Rise of the Jaguar

by Elizabeth Kelly

  “Stay here,” he said. “I’ll teleport them out and be back -”

  “Wait!” Em grabbed his arm as her nostrils flared. She looked around wildly. “I can smell -”

  There was a soft thwump sound. Clay stared at the dart sticking out of Emerson’s chest. She touched it before looking up at him with wide eyes. “Clay?”

  Pain radiated across the back of his skull before the world went black.

  “Heads up,” Mal said. “We have a van pulling in behind the warehouse.”

  Kat crowded up to the window next to Ronin as Bishop looked over Mal’s shoulder.

  From the second floor of the abandoned building, they had the perfect view of the loading area of the warehouse. Outdoor security lights flicked on before a second set of lights on the building buzzed into life. The large metal loading door rose with a squealing, rumbling sound that Kat could hear even through the thick pane of glass.

  The van parked to the left of the loading bay, and two men stepped out. She squinted at them, even though she had no idea what Grimes looked like. But Mal and Bishop had seen him when they helped Bren rescue Kaida and her clan members. She tapped Mal on the shoulder. “Is he with them?”

  “No Grimes,” Mal said.

  “I would have been surprised if he showed up,” Bishop said. “He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’ll keep doing the dirty work, not after he nearly died dosing Kaida and the others.”

  “Anyone see Granger?” Ronin scanned the half a dozen men who walked out of the loading bay.

  “No,” Kat said. “Which is also not surprising.”

  The four of them watched as a short and stocky man with dark hair and wearing a work shirt that said “Granger Shipping” across the back approached the two men from the van. They spoke briefly before the men opened up the back of the van. Large cardboard cartons were packed to the top.

  Ronin whistled under his breath. “That’s a lot of fucking serum going to New York.”

  “There are a lot of anti-paranormal groups in New York,” Mal said grimly. He already had his cell phone in his hand, and he pressed a button before holding it to his ear. “Bren, it’s me. Yeah, they just showed up, and they have a van full of the fucking stuff. They’re starting to unload it into the truck now. Call your friend.”

  He ended the call and stuck his phone back in his pocket. Ronin took Kat’s hand. “We should have brought popcorn to enjoy with the show.”

  She smiled at him, but it was half-hearted. Her worry for Em ate at her stomach lining. Ronin squeezed her hand. “She’ll be okay, Kitten.”

  “Yeah, I know.” She checked her phone for about the fiftieth time, but there was no text from her sister. She thought about texting her before putting her phone away. She’d seen way too many movies where someone’s phone rang at the worst possible moment.

  She leaned against Ronin, watching as the men unloaded the van, carrying the cartons one by one to the truck they’d backed out of the warehouse.

  Fifteen minutes ticked by. The men pulled the last of the cartons from the van to load into the truck. Where the fuck were the cops?

  Bishop said, “Mal…”

  “I know,” he said and called Bren again. “Bren, where are they? On their way? That’s great, but they’re almost finished loading the truck. If they leave before the cops arrive, we’re fucked.”

  “They’re putting the last few boxes in the truck,” Ronin said, an edge to his voice.

  “Fuck,” Mal said. “Bren, if the cops aren’t here in the next five fucking minutes, the damn truck will be gone.”

  He listened and then said, “Sitting tight isn’t an option. No, it isn’t. If this serum leaves the warehouse, shifters all over New York are fucked. I won’t let that happen.”

  He ended the call, shoving his phone into his pocket and ignoring it when it immediately buzzed again. “Bren says to sit tight and that they’re on their way. He told me specifically that we were not to engage with them.”

  He glanced at the others. “I won’t sit here while they drive away with shit that will harm my kind.”

  “Right there with you, boss,” Ronin said. “We just need to delay them a bit, right?”

  “Yes,” Mal said.

  Ronin stood. “Great. I’ll go have a chat with them.”

  “Ronin, no,” Kat said as she, Mal, and Bishop followed him down to the first floor. “There are half a dozen men, and we have no idea if they’re shifters or humans, or if they’re carrying weapons, or -”

  “Which is why it’s perfect that I go in first,” he said. “We’ll find out if we’re dealing with shifters or humans and, knowing my ability to piss people off, most likely discover whether they have guns.”

  “I hate this plan,” Kat said as they stopped at the front door of the building. “What if they just shoot you when they see you?”

  “It’ll be fine, Kitten,” Ronin said. “I always come back, remember?”

  She shuddered, and Ronin pressed a kiss against her mouth. “Stop worrying, gorgeous. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

  The four of them stepped out of the building and into the darkness. Kat leaned against the building next to Mal and Bishop, watching as Ronin slipped around the side of the building and crossed the parking lot that separated their building from the warehouse.

  Mal nudged her and pointed to an abandoned car in the lot. Rusted holes punctured the side of it, and it sat on four flat tires. Ronin walked past the car, and, keeping low, Kat, Mal, and Bishop ran to the car and crouched behind it.

  They were close enough to the warehouse now that she could smell the men. They were all human, and her jaguar growled softly when the van started and the doors slammed.

  “Fuck,” Mal breathed as the van drove out of the loading zone and onto the road. Its taillights grew steadily dimmer until they disappeared. Snow started to fall, and Kat brushed the flakes from her face as she peeked over the hood of the car. Ronin was only a few feet away from the six remaining men.

  Mal and Bishop peered over the car with her as Ronin said, “Well, hey there.”

  The men turned and stared at Ronin. Kat’s jaguar snarled when the man in the Granger Shipping shirt pulled a gun from his waistband and pointed it at Ronin. Her jaguar tried to surge forward to protect her mate, and Kat held her back with grim determination.

  Ronin held up his hands. “Whoa, hold on there, boys.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” the man said.

  “I’m Ronin. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “This is private property. Get the fuck out of here before I put a bullet in your brain.”

  “That’s an awful lot of hostility toward a guy who’s just looking for a Taco Bell,” Ronin said. “Swear to God, my lady told me it was on Windmere Street. You think you can point me in the right direction? She’s knocked up, and she’s gonna get real cranky if I don’t bring her some tacos.”

  Mal and Bishop stared at her with identical looks of shock before their gazes dropped in perfect synchronization to her stomach. Kat rolled her eyes and mouthed, “I’m not pregnant,” before turning her gaze back to Ronin.

  He grinned at the men, his hands still in the air. The men stared silently at him before the leader said, “Get the fuck out of here, man. I won’t tell you again.”

  Ronin raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t be like that, sweetheart. I’m just a boy, standing in front of a boy, asking him to share his tacos.”

  “What the fuck?” the man said.

  “C’mon, like you don’t know Notting Hill. Don’t tell me you haven’t watched it a dozen times. I know the face of a closet romantic when I see -”

  Kat clapped her hand over her mouth, her jaguar screaming in rage when the man shot Ronin in the head.

  Ronin collapsed to the ground like a punctured balloon, his face pointed in their direction. She stared into the empty eyes of her mate as her jaguar screamed again and surged forward.

  The man kicked Ronin in the thigh before tur
ning to the others. “Get him in a truck and dump him in the east river.”

  Her body rippling and shaking, fur sprouting from her skin as her clothes ripped with a soft purring sound, Kat retreated and let her jaguar take control. Her clothes fell in tatters as she shifted fully, and she ran gracefully across the lot toward the man who had killed her mate.

  She could hear the heavy thud of Bishop’s grizzly and the lighter step of Mal’s wolf behind her, but the only thing she could focus on was the man who had killed her mate.

  He turned just as she leaped for him. His eyes widened, and a scream pealed from his throat. He fired off a wild shot as she landed on him and drove him to the ground, knocking the gun from his hand. It slid under the truck out of his reach, and the man screamed again. She could smell smoke in the air and see the flickering light as Ronin’s body burst into flames.

  She let the human squirm out from under her and flip to his belly. She flicked her paw across the back of his calf before he could stand, happily trilling when blood bloomed through his pants and dripped onto the pavement. The man screamed again and dragged himself forward on his belly, snot and tears sliding down his face as he looked over his shoulder at her.

  Her jaguar snarled at the loud pop of gunfire and the angry roar of Bishop’s grizzly. She bared her teeth at the human, and he shrieked when she pounced on his back. She bent her head, saliva dripping from her fangs as she prepared to deliver the death bite to the back of the squirming, squealing human.

  “Kitten, stop.”

  Ronin’s low voice broke through her blood lust. She looked to her right, her jaguar purring to her mate as Ronin crouched naked beside her. He petted her side then smoothed his hand along her cheek. “Don’t kill him, Kat.”

  She growled her unhappiness, and Ronin stroked her forehead. “He’s not worth it. Let him go, honey.”

  Grumbling, she moved off the human. He stayed where he was, blood flowing from his leg as he whimpered quietly with his face pressed against the pavement. She shifted to her human form, not caring that she was naked. She needed to touch her mate.

  She wrapped her arms around Ronin’s waist. “Are you all right, my mate?”

  “Fine.” He stroked her hair as sirens whooped in the cold air. “I need to help Bishop.”

  “What? Where is he?” She turned, searching frantically for Bishop. The grizzly paced back and forth in front of the remaining men. They were crowded up against the side of the warehouse, and they stared with wide and frightened eyes at Bishop as he roared angrily at them. Blood dripped down his side and matted his dark fur. Ronin approached the men and held his hand toward the closest one. “Hey, new friend, I need to borrow your jacket for my lady over there.”

  The man’s gaze skittered toward her, and Ronin shook his head. “No peeking at her smoking hot body. Just hand over the jacket.”

  The man gave him his jacket, and Ronin handed it to her before moving closer to the still pacing Bishop. “Big guy, how about you shift and let me see the damage. What do you say?”

  Bishop snarled at him. Ronin took a step back as Mal shifted from his wolf to his human form. He picked up the gun lying on the ground near Bishop and set it on the hood of the truck. “Don’t get too close to him, Ronin. He’s pissed.”

  Kat zipped up the jacket before approaching Bishop. “Bishop, honey, you need to shift. Ronin needs to heal you, and the police are nearly here. You shouldn’t be in your grizzly form when they show up. C’mon, big guy, shift back.”

  Bishop growled, and she patted his shoulder through the thick dark fur. “C’mon, Bishop. You need to shift.”

  With another low growl, Bishop shifted to his human form. Kat stared at the blood that ran down his side.

  “It’s nothing,” Bishop said. “The bullet grazed me.”

  He shook his head when Ronin approached him. “Don’t you dare fucking cry on me.”

  Ronin laughed. “Aw, c’mon, it’ll be fun.”

  “Cry on me, and I’ll break your arm,” Bishop said.

  Ronin took a step back. “Man, Papa Bear gets cranky when he’s been shot.”

  The sirens blared their arrival. As the cop cars pulled into the lot behind them, Ronin grinned at Kat and put up his hands. “Hands up, hot stuff. We don’t want them shooting us good guys.”

  She put her hands up as Ronin leaned closer and said, “Sweetheart, there are bound to be a couple of female cops, and you know they’ll be checking out my naked ass. Try not to Kitten out on them when they do, all right?”

  Bishop and Mal joined them with their hands raised. Kat raised her hands a little higher, and said, “No promises, pretty bird.”

  Chapter 26

  Emerson stared in numb disbelief at the dart in her chest. She plucked it out, staring at the green liquid that dripped from the end before letting it fall from her nerveless fingers. Fear rising within her, she called for her jaguar. The fear turned to bright panic when nothing happened.

  Sweet one! Sweet one!

  Her jaguar made a mournful cry, the sound muffled and dim. Emerson could barely feel her, their connection severed by what felt like a thick pane of glass. She called for her jaguar again, swallowing down her own cry of grief when her jaguar cried out for her.

  Shh, sweet one. Shh. You’re all right.

  She became aware of two things at once. Dax was there, and he crouched over an unconscious Clay with his big hands wrapped around Clay’s throat.

  Horror washed over her as Dax growled. “Fucking asshole. I never liked you, you arrogant prick. I’ve dreamed about this moment, about how it would feel to watch you die beneath my hands.”

  She shot to her feet, the dim growls and screams of her jaguar spurring her on as she ran toward them and jumped on Dax’s back. Without her jaguar, she was dismayingly weak. She wrapped her arms around Dax’s throat anyway and dug her nails into his skin. He howled in anger and released Clay before staggering to his feet. He tore her from his back and threw her into the closest tree.

  She slammed into the trunk of the tree then dropped to the ground. The wind was knocked out of her, and she writhed in the snow, trying to gasp in oxygen as Dax settled over Clay and started choking him again.

  “Dax, enough!” Wilson’s voice rang out in the cold, crisp air.

  Dax snarled at him. “Fuck off, Wilson.”

  “We need him, Dax,” Wilson said.

  “No, you fucking need him,” Dax said, his hands tightening around Clay’s throat. “What I need is this motherfucker dead.”

  “Stop!” Granger shouted.

  Her lungs decided to work again, and Emerson sucked in a harsh breath. Dax stared down at Clay, his teeth bared and his eyes glowing bright yellow. He growled again as she dragged herself to her feet, using the tree for support.

  Before she could attack Dax again, there was another hollow thwump, and a dart appeared in the side of Dax’s neck. He howled and clawed it out of his neck before falling back onto his ass and staring dumbly at the dart lying on the ground.

  Wilson lowered the dart gun. “You gave me no choice, Dax.”

  “You darted me,” Dax said as another man wearing all black joined them in the woods. “You fucking darted me.”

  “Frost.” Wilson glanced at the man in black.

  Frost pulled out a gun and aimed it at Dax.

  Dax stared down at his hands. “You darted me.”

  Wilson grunted in annoyance before reaching into his ears and turning on his hearing aids. “What?”

  When Dax didn’t reply, Wilson said. “It’ll wear off in two days.”

  Dax stared blankly at him as Wilson said, “I told you to stop, Dax. Are we going to have a problem here?”

  The big tiger shifter continued to stare at him. He wore the same shocked expression that Emerson knew was on her face. She would have almost felt sorry for him if he hadn’t just tried to kill her mate.

  “Are we?” Wilson said.

  Dax stared at the gun aimed at his head. “No problem.”
>
  “Good. Bring Clay into the house, please.”

  Dax staggered to his feet. “Bring him into the fucking house yourself.”

  He stalked toward the house as Wilson sighed and rubbed at his temples. “So dramatic. Hello, Emerson. It’s good to see you again.”

  “Fuck you.” She dropped to her knees next to Clay and rested her cheek against his chest. She wanted to cry when she heard the steady beat of his heart and felt the rise and fall of his chest. She cradled his face in her hands. “Clay, honey, wake up.”

  The click of the gun made her throat dry up. She looked into the gun pointed in her face as Wilson said, “Step away from Clay, please, Emerson.”

  “What are you going to do to him?”

  He smiled grimly. “Bring him into the house before he freezes to death. Get up, Emerson. It’s time Clay had a reunion with his brother.”

  “Wake him up,” Wilson said to Frost.

  Frost had dropped Clay on the floor of Wilson’s office. Emerson could see the goose egg on the back of Clay’s skull as Frost left the room. There’d been no sign of Owen or Jonathan when Wilson marched her into the house, Frost following with Clay slung over his shoulder.

  A gun in one hand, Wilson leaned against his desk and crossed his legs as he studied her.

  “How did you know to come here?” he said.

  She refused to answer. A scream of rage echoed in the house, and something heavy in the room above them tipped over with a loud bang. Bits of ceiling drifted down to the floor, and Wilson sighed.

  “Fucking asshole tiger shifter,” he said.

  Emerson leaned forward in her chair, and Wilson raised his gun. “Don’t move, Emerson. I know Dax darted you, and you can’t shift, but I’m pretty sure you’re itching to claw my eyes out with those nails of yours.”

  She stared grimly at Clay, the fear and panic biting at her insides as her jaguar cried repeatedly from behind that thick wall of glass.

  “Do you love him?” Wilson said. “You look like a woman in love, Emerson.”

  “Yes,” she said. “I love him.”