The Tomcats Tame the Domme [The Shifters of Catamount, Texas 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Josie Hunter

  Her thigh slid through the slit in the dress, a long road leading to perfection, and the smell of her pussy hit him like a sledgehammer. She’d have captured his complete attention a year before because there was nothing like a serpent-shifter woman. They were among the most beautiful and sexy women in the world. Dangerous, sometimes deadly, and this one was no exception, but she was no Rosa. His woman had him wrapped around her heart.

  “Please come in,” she crooned, gesturing toward the bar. “We’re primarily a serpent club, but cats are certainly welcome.” Her dark gaze crept down his entire body, branding each inch along the way. “Especially big, handsome panthers like you.”

  She smiled at him with dark red lips then snapped her red-tipped fingers. A waiter wearing a black suit glided toward him. Steve sat in one of the wrought iron chairs and ordered a Captain Morgan on the rocks. He sat back pretending to enjoy the show while he studied the scents in the club. Mostly serpent, though one of the band members was a seagull. That wouldn’t account for the musty feather smell because seagulls had their own distinct smell, a mixture of garbage and the sea. He had to give the gull-shifter credit though. They had their faults and flaws, but most of them didn’t have the balls for a serpent club. This one had boulders for balls.

  While he sipped on his drink, he watched the dark goddess talk with her musicians. Finally, her red lips touched the microphone, and her dark eyes hovered on his face as she gave him a smile and began to sing “Stormy Weather.” For a few moments, he actually forgot about eagle-shifters as he listened to her voice fill the room like a seductive dream. It felt good to be out of his own head for a little while.

  Several songs and glasses of Captain Morgan later, he headed toward the back looking for the restrooms. He found four doors, two of which were restrooms. One had frosted glass with the word Office etched into it, and the fourth was a plain wooden door. Both were locked tighter than a nun’s legs. He went with his gut and pressed his face to the doorjamb of the room that said Office. He inhaled that musty bird smell, and he also got a faint whiff of something else…the arousing, seductive aroma of a female. Definitely more than a human woman, but he couldn’t quite lock on whether or not it was Rosa. What scent he’d managed to capture seemed distant and elusive, and the scent that should have been there—the scent of her serpent—seemed to be scorched at the edges, as though it had been burned in a fire.

  His instinct told him to tear the door off its hinges just in case, but he could open a can of really nasty worms if he were wrong. He could live with that, but he wasn’t sure anyone else could, especially his alpha. Plus, the last thing he wanted to do was put Rosa in more danger. He needed backup. They’d do this once and do it right.

  He’d been gone a while so he went into the restroom and pissed to make it look good. He flushed twice to get rid of his scent. The last thing he wanted to be was memorable if they came back blasting. Man, he hoped they did. There was nothing like a real skirmish to get the blood pumping.

  When he went back to his table, he ordered one more drink, listened to the rest of the siren’s set, and then paid his tab.

  He settled his cowboy hat on his head, and as he headed to the door, the woman met him.

  She ran her sharp nail down the front of his black T-shirt. “Please come back…Mr.?”

  He didn’t bat an eye. “Morgan. And you can count on it.”

  * * * *

  When the hotel door opened, Marcus slammed his laptop closed and shoved the piece of paper with the address into his pocket. He drained his glass, grabbed everything, and stepped into the room. Steve was stripping out of his sweat-soaked shirt.

  “Found it,” they said simultaneously.

  Marcus drew back. “What did you find?”

  “What did you find?” Steve said, balling up his shirt and hurling it toward the closet.

  “I found a business owned by a company, owned by a conglomeration, owned by—”

  Steve gestured with his hand. “Yeah, cut to the chase.”

  “Miguel Santos owns another bar in this town. A jazz club off Bourbon Street.”

  “Coral’s,” they both said.

  Steve headed into the bathroom, and Marcus heard the water running. He frowned and followed his friend into the bathroom to find him stripping off his pants.

  “How did you find Coral’s?” Marcus asked.

  “The same way I find everything. I physically tracked the feather smell. How did you find the owner of the club?”

  “The same way I always do. I tracked through a maze of Internet protocols and documents.”

  “You’re losing your instincts,” Steve said. “Give in to the wild, Marco. The animal will always be there for you.”

  “Yeah,” Marcus said, “my animal would like to run amok like yours, but Robb, not to mention the alpha, is going to want some sort of proof before we barrel into a business and shoot the place up.”

  Steve stepped into the steamy shower. “So we’re shooting things up tonight? Cool deal.” He poked his head around the edge of the shower curtain. “I figured you’d pussy out and want to cyber stalk them or something.”

  Marcus tossed a balled-up washcloth at his head. “I’m leaving the plan up to Robb. He’s running point.”

  “Well, shooting works for me if nothing else hits him. Just give me a minute. That place was hot as fucking hell.”

  * * * *

  Talon put the last of the supplies he needed on the tray and turned to open the door. As he did, he saw his brother coming down the narrow hallway—walking. Strutting was more like it. The only thing that had kept Raptor remotely under control had been his need for the wheelchair. Now that he could walk, they were in for a world of hurt. Since he’d been in Viper’s hands, his brother had fallen out of the crazy tree and hit every branch on the way down. The inability to shift, not to mention losing the use of his legs, had made him the mayor of Crazy Town. Honestly, Talon didn’t think there was any coming back from that. If Raptor had his leg power back—not to mention the run of the place—Talon was going to have his hands full. Man, he needed a different job.

  “Congratulations, brother.”

  For the first time in over a year, they stared directly into each other’s eyes, and Talon saw the darkness brewing in his brother. It was more than a matter of having a few screws loose, or being a bit on the batty side. His brother was gone. The twin he’d spent his entire life with, his best friend, the only reason he’d done such horrible things for Viper over the last year had been expelled from this body. What stood in his place was someone Talon had extreme trouble comprehending, and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to.

  “The boss called today,” Raptor said, patting his shirt pocket. “Told me where the chemicals were that would reverse my problem.”

  “Both problems?”

  Raptor nodded with a smile, and within a moment, he’d been enveloped in a golden shimmer and an eagle had taken his place. The bird opened his beak and began to emit a series of high-pitched whistles and squeaks. He lifted off in a rustle of feathers and flew to the end of the hall and back. After showing off his regained shifting ability, Raptor’s body shimmered, and he returned to human form once more.

  “I can’t wait ’til this business is over and I can fly! Man, that’s going to be great.”

  “It is,” Talon agreed. There was nothing like flying.

  “Boss says I should stay healthy indefinitely,” Raptor said as he pulled his pants back on. “But he told me to take some extra vials just in case. He also gave me some instructions.”

  “Pertaining to what?” Talon asked.

  “Not your concern, brother,” Raptor said. “You’re on orderly duty. Just go check on the little lady and get tonight’s vials. After that, you’re off duty.”

  Talon didn’t like the sound of that.

  Chapter 13

  As the three men walked to the corner on Bourbon Street, Steve listened as Robb discussed possible strategies for getting through the offi
ce door to see whether Rosa was indeed being held at Coral’s.

  “We’ll need a diversion,” Robb said.

  “We might be able to simply break the glass in the office door and check out the situation,” Marcus said. “With any luck, she’s right inside.”

  “That would be a bit too easy,” Steve said. “I sensed the room itself was a gateway into another area. The smell was very faint.”

  “The sleeping-with-my-wife diversion usually works pretty well,” Robb said. “As a tactical maneuver, it gets a lot of folks involved and concentrated in one area.”

  “And then what?” Steve asked. “One of us will just stroll through the bar and carry her out the door?”

  “No, that’s probably not an option,” Robb said. “I want to scope out the street a bit better. See our best options. Check out the back of the building and see if there’s a way in back there.”

  Steve and Marcus turned left at the corner and strolled on past the open French doors of Coral’s. There was very little light on the side street, and when they reached the alley, they entered near darkness. Wrinkling their noses against the putrid smells, they skirted around some piles of trash that hadn’t quite made it to the Dumpster. Not that it would have mattered because the smells were pretty potent.

  “Indian restaurant nearby,” Steve muttered. “Not sure which smells worse, the before or the after.”

  Marcus grimaced. “Both.”

  There were several doors that could have been back entrances to Coral’s, and Steve tried to envision the layout to decide which door to try. He’d reached toward the door in the middle when he heard the sound of a woman’s voice.

  “Turn around slowly.”

  “Damn trash,” Marcus muttered. “We should have smelled her.”

  Steve turned, and Marcus did the same. Though the light was dim, they had no real trouble seeing in the alleyway. A small shape stepped from the shadows, and a girl stood before them. No, not a girl. She was a very small woman, no more than five foot two, and she couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds. Steve put her at about twenty-three if she was a day. Her light blonde hair looked to be pulled back into a knot at the nape of her neck. The black bodysuit she wore said superspy, but the black glasses she wore said geek. He had to admit she was a knockout in that bodysuit. It hugged her in all the right places. The glasses though…

  “Lost, little girl? The library’s probably on the other side of town.”

  “Aren’t you a funny man?” she said drolly.

  “Love the catsuit, but isn’t it a bit hot?” Steve asked.

  “Love the hat,” she said, “but isn’t it a bit rednecky?”

  “Ah, now don’t go hurtin’ my feelings. We’re gettin’ along so well.”

  His gaze went up and down her body, taking in the curves, the small swell of her hips, the high, firm breasts. She stood her ground and let him inspect her, her brown eyes alive and bright behind those black frames.

  “Yeah, I really dig the outfit,” Steve said, “but it’s missing something. Where’s your stocking cap?”

  She waved her hand. “Oh, it’s far too hot for a hat.” She put her hand on her hip. “When you’re done inspecting me, you two can take off. This alley is currently off-limits.”

  “I was going to say the same thing to you, honey.” Steve gestured with a nod toward the end of the alley. “Beat it. The grown-ups have things to do.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that.” She took a step toward them, reached into her cleavage, and pulled out a small ID wallet. She flipped it open, and her badge flashed in the dim light.

  “Homeland Security?” Marcus asked. Steve watched as his friend’s gaze drifted down her petite form. “Why don’t I believe that?”

  “You don’t have to believe it,” she said. “You just have to leave.”

  Marcus snatched the wallet out of her hands, and Steve inspected it over his shoulder.

  “Stephanie Cooper,” Steve said, letting out a big sigh. “Well, Ms. Stephanie Cooper—”

  “Agent Cooper,” she said with a sneer.

  “Agent Cooper then. We’re also here with the blessing of Homeland Security, so you can beat feet and let us do our work.”

  “Where are your credentials?”

  Steve tapped the side of his head. “Right here, doll, but I’m afraid they’re not accessible to you.”

  She clenched her jaw and took another step forward. That was when Steve saw the rope slung over her shoulder.

  “So a cute little bunny like you is going to do…what?” He glanced up. “Scale one of these buildings? You’re kind of a young kid to be planning a heist.”

  “None of the above, panther, but I’m seriously considering kicking your ass.”

  Marcus put his arm in front of Steve’s chest when he took a step toward her, but Steve pressed forward anyway. “The day I let a lepus shifter kick my ass will be the day I—”

  “The day you what?” asked a deep voice.

  Steve whirled around so fast his hat flew off his head. He came face-to-face with the tallest, creepiest-looking son of a bitch he’d seen in just about forever. The dude was almost seven feet tall and slender, but his skinny body didn’t detract from his tough vibe. His red hair stood up in thick spikes all over his head, and he had the biggest ears Steve had ever seen. His hands were like two paddles, matching the big feet at the end his long, spindly legs. His big brown eyes were bright and alert, like Stephanie’s.

  “Let me guess. Jackrabbit?”

  “We come in all shapes and sizes,” the man said. “Name’s Rusty.”

  “Well, Rusty, how is it that two rabbit-shifters happen to be in this alley?”

  “I could ask the same of two panthers,” Rusty said. “I can’t give you the details because I happen to work for her.”

  “She’s a bit tiny to be the boss of the outfit.”

  “She can hold her own.” Rusty took a step forward, his long strides reinforcing his creepiness. “But, if necessary, I kick those asses she can’t kick herself.”

  “Good to know.” Steve nodded.

  “Look,” Marcus said, “we don’t want to step on any toes here. I have no idea what you two are planning, and I don’t want to know, but we have something we need to do here. So how about just closing your eyes and letting us—”

  “No, you look,” Stephanie said, her voice hard and determined. The tone was almost scary, or it would have been had Steve not known what she was. Bunny-shifter. What a joke. “A woman is probably going to die if you two don’t find your way back to Bourbon Street. Pronto.”

  “A woman?” Steve asked. He exchanged a glance with Marcus and saw the woman and man exchange one as well. “Would her name be Rosa Santos?”

  Stephanie tilted her head. “How do you know about Rosa Santos?”

  “We’re here looking for her with another friend, Robb Jackson. We’re under the authority of the alpha of the Catamount, Texas colony.”

  “Tyler Lucas?” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.

  “The one and only,” Steve said.

  “And Robb Jackson you said?” she murmured.

  “Know him?” Marcus asked.

  “Vaguely.”

  Steve kept his gaze on Agent Cooper, not to mention her Jolly Green Sidekick, but he leaned down and scooped up his hat. “Then you’ll know we mean business and get out of our way. How did you know Rosa was missing anyway?”

  “Some men searched my apartment in Catamount.”

  “Do you know for sure Rosa’s here?” Marcus said, stepping toward her.

  Stephanie exchanged another glance with her friend. “After some research, I came to the conclusion this was the only place she could be.”

  “And what made you conclude that?” Marcus asked.

  “Esteban Santos is no dummy,” Stephanie said. “He’s not going to keep her in Miami, or anywhere near him or his headquarters. Far too many witnesses.” She gestured toward the back of Coral’s. “But this building
is owned by a company, owned by a conglomerate, owned by—”

  “Geek North, meet Geek South,” Steve said, gesturing between her and Marcus.

  His friend and Stephanie exchanged a glance this time.

  “I was feeling pretty confident she’s inside,” Steve said, “but if you’re sure, too, let’s go get her. We can share the glory.”

  He started once again to pull the handle of the middle door, but Stephanie stopped him by pointing to a small, nearly unnoticeable, window swallowed up behind a Dumpster.

  “She’s down there.”

  Marcus frowned. “How do you know that? Steve scented her in the office.”

  She shook her head. “There is no office. There are some steep steps and a narrow hallway.”

  “And you know this how?” Steve asked.

  “Because I have the blueprints.”

  Marcus slapped his forehead.

  “Take it easy on yourself, Marco,” Steve said. “You can’t think of everything.” He glanced dubiously at the window. “It’s a bit small.”

  “Which is why I’ll be going in—alone,” Stephanie said.

  Marcus said, “Oh, no, that’s not going to happen. I’m going in.”

  “Save it, hero.” Her gaze swept over both their bodies. “You’re both far too big. This is the only way in without going past the clientele or the employees.”

  “Stephanie?” Robb stepped into the alley, his forehead scrunched. He took in every inch of the young woman. “Moonlighting?”

  “Jeez.” The girl let out an exasperated breath. “Does everyone in Catamount have to find out my secret identity?”

  Steve couldn’t hold in the snicker. “Secret identity. How cute.”

  Stephanie gave him a withering look then focused on Robb. “How are you, Mr. Jackson?”

  Steve’s gaze ticked between his boss and the girl. The situation got more interesting by the minute. Usually he’d want to hear the whole story of how these two knew each other, but right now, all he really wanted was Rosa.