by April Zyon
EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2016 April Zyon
ISBN: 978-1-77339-037-6
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Editor: Jessica Ruth
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
THE JAGUAR’S MATE
Shifters-Match.com, 3
April Zyon
Copyright © 2016
Chapter One
Holding the mug in her hands, Quinn looked out of the large picture window of her living room and into the brilliant summer day and smiled. She loved this time of year. Not only was she was out of school, but this was the time of year where life was in full bloom.
She lifted a hand and waved at one of the kids who’d recently graduated from her sixth grade class. Sometimes it was heartbreaking to know that the shy little fledglings would one day walk into the large ocean of middle school. She did all she could to prepare them, not only with her curriculum but also with the things she taught them in how to deal with larger crowds of people, how to be giving and, most importantly with some of the kids, how to control their tempers. She didn’t know why, but some of the kids had serious issues with their tempers and that worried her.
Looking at the clock, she stood and brushed her hands down her pants. “Okay, time to get ready.” She checked her phone to make sure that her date hadn’t canceled on her and when she saw he hadn’t, she smiled. “So far, this dating site has been pretty nifty. I have no idea why I never get a second date, but here is hoping that I get one from this guy.”
The site was www.shifters-match.com and she’d met a number of great guys that she had gone out on dates with, but oddly enough at the end of all of the dates most of the men had said something very similar to you aren’t the one, which Quinn had always felt was odd but what did she know? At least they all seemed to become friends and pseudo-siblings to her, so that was kind of cool.
She lifted the phone and shot a text message to the man she had been talking to on the phone, computer, and via text message for the past few months to ensure that they would be able to meet this time.
So nothing else is standing in the way of us finally meeting, right? No emergencies popping up? I don’t have any and I’m only going to answer your e-mails and text messages, so things are good on my end.
It had been very odd. Each time they’d tried to meet, something had come up either in her life or his and they’d had to cancel their dates time and time again. In fact, this would be their thirteenth date made, so she was hopeful that maybe thirteen would be the proper number.
She took her mug to the kitchen and washed it, then headed to her bedroom to get dressed. A loud ping had her pausing in the doorway, though. An e-mail. Quinn frowned but hurried to the laptop and took a seat at her desk. Her stomach clenched as she saw who the e-mail was from. She scanned the message once, then twice. She re-read the words once more and felt a chill racing up and down her spine.
Ms. Pugate,
I’m sorry to tell you that Fredrick Wilkinson II has escaped the maximum security prison he was held in two hours ago. There is a manhunt on for him. I will be there by tomorrow morning to ensure your continued safety. In the meantime we ask that you remain in your home. I will also contact the local sheriff and ask that they make additional rounds near your house. However, your cover will be held in complete confidence. We have worked with this sheriff before and he is as good as his word. WITSEC is committed to your continued safety and security.
Sincerely,
Joseph Goodman
It shook her to her very core that the man she had helped put in jail was free and out doing God only knew what. She lifted a hand and touched the scar that ran from her neck to between her breasts. Then she clicked reply on the e-mail and typed four small words.
I will be ready.
She just hoped they understood that she wasn’t leaving what she considered her home now. She’d made friends here, had a home here, and come hell or high water she was going to stay this time. She was tired of being terrified. She just sent up a silent prayer that she wasn’t signing her own death warrant with this.
Sitting back, she chewed her lower lip. Going out tonight was now out of the question. She’d have to reschedule, again. Was it even fair to try to start a relationship since a man she had helped put in jail had escaped and would likely be looking for her. Shit. No, it wasn’t. Lifting her phone again, she brushed away angry tears and hated herself for doing it but knew she had to.
She stood and began to pace once more. She walked back to her laptop and looked at the e-mail from Joe, then at her phone. Quinn rubbed her forehead and knew that she was going to have one hell of a headache because she was grinding her teeth from her indecision. She wanted to meet this man. She was desperate to meet him and wanted to spend time with him and see if there really was the ten there that the app rated their relationship to be.
But each time she touched her scar, she realized how much danger she would be putting the man into. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t see him hurt. Taking a deep breath, she picked up her phone. She hated to lie. She bit her lower lip as she began to tap out a message to the man she had wanted for several months.
Take that back. I’m so sorry but I’m not going to make it tonight. I’m…
She had to stop and think about it. Shit, what could she say? What could he believe?
I’m sick.
That sounded so lame and she knew it, but it was the safest thing for him. Anyone around her would be collateral damage if he found her.
I’m so sorry. I hope you understand. If you want to stop trying to meet me I totally get that. I’m sure that you’ve had a lot of women contacting you via the site and I don’t want to stand in the way of you possibly finding the perfect one for you.
Part of her really hoped that he would want to still see her again, and the other part hoped that he would move on so that he would find happiness. She looked at his profile picture again and sighed. Damn he was a beautiful man, and he hadn’t pressed her for a photo. He hadn’t questioned her not putting an image on the site, and that was something that had her liking him all the more. Yep, she was going to hell and knew it, but such was her shitty life since that moment more than fifteen years ago.
For the next hour, she walked around in a daze. She drank no less than six cups of coffee, all different cups, all made one after the other. She folded and unfolded the same blanket that was on the back of the couch five different times, then tossed it into the corner. Quinn looked up and out of the large picture window again and sighed. She longed to go out and feel the sunshine, to be a part of the community that she belonged to, but she couldn’t, not with danger lurking God only knew where. Instead she walked to the window and closed the blinds, then the heavy drapes, and cried.
Chapter Two
Hanging up the phone, he scrubbed his hands through his short brown hair and tugged on the strands. There were days Piran hated dealing with people, and today was one of those days. A shipment he’d sent to a client was currently lost in transit. How it had happened, he didn’t know, but given the size of the fucking crate it shouldn’t be this damn hard to find.
To top it off, his receptionist slash office
manager was out sick with a bug, so he’d had to handle all the calls she normally took care of. Without her for a day he was way behind schedule on the latest piece. Best-laid plans and all that jazz.
The only good thing was the day would soon end and he’d be able to meet up, finally, with a woman he’d been attempting to take on a date for months now. They’d had a hell of a time trying to get together, but tonight was going to be lucky number thirteen. Or rather the thirteenth attempt—and the one to succeed.
He didn’t know much about her beyond her profile. Hell, he didn’t even know what she looked like since she didn’t have a picture up on the site. But what he did know about her and what he’d discovered through their texts, e-mails, and phone conversations had him excited.
He checked his cell, then stuck it into his pocket before turning the office phones over to the automated system and going to lock the doors. He still had a few hours before he needed to get home to change, and he was going to get some actual work done. Piran was the creative genius around this place. It was why he’d hired Marcy to work out front. She was much more personable, had a way with people, and didn’t snarl at them like he tended to do. Like he’d done at least twice today.
A quick look outside before he pulled the blinds assured him there was no one around. He hoped everyone would get the hint and leave him alone to work. Wouldn’t actually matter once he got into it. There wasn’t much short of a bomb going off that could pull him out when the creative juices were flowing.
Piran grabbed a couple bottles of water, then went into his workshop. The scents of different woods greeted him, followed by the sharper notes from the stains and varnishes he used. Running a hand over the bedroom set he had another varnish coat to add to before shipping, he moved to the piece that was his current focus. A custom sleigh bed.
The couple who’d ordered it had sent him various pictures of what they liked in a sleigh bed. They’d also sent along a special request for the center of the headboard. The scene that would dominate the piece was tranquil and would look amazing when it was completed. Unfortunately, the chiseling took time and patience. Patience, he had in spades. Time, sadly not so much.
Picking up a tiny chisel, he turned on his work lamps and wheeled his stool into position. Piran used the remote to turn on his music before bending over the cherry wood and continuing to bring to life the herd of deer around the pond. Some were on watch while others were drinking or eating. According to his clients, they’d taken the picture during a camping trip years before and it had always called to them. Now they would forever have the image in a three-dimensional form. His hope was that they’d eventually pass it down to one of their children, who would equally treasure it.
Piran was vaguely aware of time passing. The songs changing on his iPod were one clue, the other the quiet ticking from the clock up on the wall. But it took the alarm on his cell phone several attempts to pull him from the zen-like state he slipped into while working with wood.
When he finally did clue into his ass vibrating on the stool, he stretched slowly to work out all the kinks. Tugging the annoying item from his pocket, he shut it off, then chugged down a bottle of water. He had plenty of time to get home, shower, and change before meeting with Quinn at the restaurant.
Forty minutes later he was climbing from the shower. He dressed quickly, then scooped his phone up from the dresser. His gut clenched when he saw the red light blinking. A text had come through. He exhaled, relieved, when he read the text. She wasn’t canceling their date. He couldn’t stop the smile from tugging on his lips at her checking in to make sure all was well on his end. Relief coursed through him. He stood there for several minutes with a goofy grin on his face, reading and re-reading the text message she had sent him before he decided he needed to answer her.
Fingers on the keys, he thought a minute before typing out his reply. He sucked at this whole texting thing, but he did it for this woman. Someone he’d never even met. He received another text from her before he could hit send, causing him to mutter. She’d better not have sent anything through that would make him have to alter his message.
Quickly reading the new message, and the one that followed, Piran felt his stomach bottom out. Son of a bitch! They’d been so close. Pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, he fought to breathe.
Quinn was right. He had several woman attempting to hook up with him. But none felt right like with her. He couldn’t explain it, and likely would sound crazy trying to, but he really liked her. While she might not be the one for him, he wasn’t snobbish enough not to enjoy spending time with her, at least once. They had connected on some level during all the back and forth before the big meet.
Maybe it was a sign from the universe that he should finally heed. His jaguar didn’t agree and it let him know in no uncertain terms. Figured the cat would like her. She had a voice that made a man imagine many a scenario. Most involving no clothing whatsoever.
He picked up his phone to shoot her a message. He wasn’t going to give up, not with his gut and his cat both saying to meet this woman. They’d figure it out in time and that’s all there was to it.
Sorry to hear you’re under the weather. I’m very sad we’re not going to meet tonight. In fact, I think I might actually be pouting. Yup, the mirror confirmed it, I’m pouting. I’m also not giving up, Quinn. We may not have met but I already like you from what little we’ve shared up to this point. If you want someone to bring you soup say the word. I’ll even bring cookies.
Piran paused with his thumb over the send button, then added a little heart to the end. He pressed send before he could think about it anymore. It was done, sent, and he couldn’t take it back. He hoped it would make her smile and not creep her out.
Shoving a hand through his wet hair, he looked around his bedroom. Well, now what the fuck was he supposed to do for the night?
Chapter Three
When Quinn saw the text from Piran, she felt sick. God, she hated lying to this man. She wanted to tell him everything—absolutely every detail of what was really going on—but she couldn’t. She couldn’t put him in danger like that. Even though she felt as if she had known him her whole life, she couldn’t see him being harmed.
I wouldn’t want to get you sick, cookies are amazing however.
She hit send instead of the delete button. “Fuck a damn duck,” she muttered. It was out there, though, and she couldn’t pull it back. Dammit.
What if I’m not the person you think I am?
There, that was the truth. In reality she wasn’t Quinn Ash. She was Judy Pugate, and she was a woman in Witness Protection for her testimony in putting away a child trafficker, a horrible man who’d taken the innocence of so many children, a man she had called Dad. Yeah. Life was so peaches and cream for her.
I like you, Piran. I truly do. I’ve enjoyed our conversations and have loved talking to you but what if…
She hit send before finishing, rising to her feet and going to the front door when she heard the bell ring. Seeing the sheriff, she opened the door and nodded at him. “I see you received the message from my handler?”
“Can I come in, Quinn?” he asked her.
“Sure.” She moved back and put her phone in her pocket.
“Have they caught him yet?” she asked before any pleasantries were exchanged. “Or has my handler asked you to talk me into leaving and changing my name again?” She ran her hands through her short hair in frustration. “If he’s asking you to do that, tell him no. Just plain no.” She then looked up at the man. “Sorry, I’m rambling on. I was supposed to go out tonight. Then I got his e-mail and, well, now here you are.”
The sheriff gave her a sympathetic look and shook his head. Opening his mouth to speak, he paused, then snapped it closed and frowned. He looked around, tipped his head, then gave her a direct look. “Is there someone else here or do you have a radio on? I swear I’m hearing someone calling your name, but that can’t be right.”
“No, no one is h
ere and I don’t have a radio on.” She shifted, then felt her phone. “Oh fuck me.” She prayed, really heavily prayed, that she hadn’t done what she thought she had. She hadn’t locked her phone in the middle of her text to Piran. Quinn pulled the phone from her back pocket and saw it was live and active. She stared at the phone like it was a snake in her hands. Piran was calling her name and she didn’t know what to do. Did she hang up? Did she make up another lie? God, what did she do? She looked at the sheriff in askance, hoping for guidance in how to get out of this holy mess she’d created.
“Up to you, but I’d answer him before he really gets upset.” Piran sounded about halfway there already if his tone was anything to go by. “Why don’t you talk to him and I’ll do a quick walk-through to give you a minute?” The sheriff popped to his feet and got out of there, leaving her with her phone in hand directly connected to a man she’d had such hopes for.
“Piran.” She sounded breathy, but that wasn’t her intention. She felt her heart breaking because he now knew she had lied to him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to butt-dial you. I guess you can tell that I’m really not ill, and I’m so sorry for the lie but it’s safest.” She curled up on her chair and put her forehead on her knees, with the phone tucked in against her ear.
“I don’t care about the lie, Quinn. Well, I do but that’s beside the point for the moment. What the hell’s going on? And don’t tell me nothing, because given what little I caught it sounds like something big. Talk to me, please?” He sounded much calmer now that she was talking to him.
“The long and short of it?” she asked while curled in on herself. “A man that I helped put into a maximum security prison for the rest of his life escaped earlier today. The sheriff is here at the request of my Witness Protection handler. I don’t want to move again, but if they don’t catch him soon I may not have a choice.” Holy hell, had she just said that to him? Christ on a fucking cracker, she was never supposed to give up her secrets, never, and yet here she was giving them up to a man she had never met face-to-face.
