by Celia Kyle
“Birch doesn’t get worried, but right now he’s worried.”
“Concerned,” the grizzly snapped, and curled his lip, flashing a fang.
“Concerned, then,” Declan drawled, rolling his eyes.
Birch curled his lip a little higher before speaking again. “Over the last several years, tips about Unified Humanity and assignments to take them out from headquarters have tapered off.”
Declan nodded. They had lessened over time. “Because we’ve been making a difference.” Pike snickered, and he shot his brother a dark glare. “Something to share?”
Pike remained silent.
“There’s someone inside SHOC feeding information to Unified Humanity. That same person is limiting what information agents receive.”
Declan’s heartbeat stuttered, and his lungs froze. Abby shuddered in his arms. He pulled her even closer, tucking her head against his shoulder. The others…weren’t happy.
To say the least.
“What the fuck?”
“Fuck that.”
“No fucking way.”
Birch held up a hand to silence them all. “I had my suspicions, which is why I sent Pike in to UH.” The grizzly nodded at the other wolf. “Pike gave me—us—the tip on FosCo. Our arrival, Abby’s discovery, and SHOC’s response prove there’s someone on the inside feeding intel to Unified Humanity.”
“Who?” Declan wanted to bathe in their blood and feed their bodies to natural predators.
“We don’t know,” the grizzly snarled. “Yet. Foster’s death meant we couldn’t get any info from him, and he was the closest link between SHOC and UH. The traitor is safe—for now. He—”
“Or she,” Ethan grumbled, and everyone focused on the lion with narrowed eyes. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He frowned at them all. “The chicks in the pride do the heavy lifting and conniving. Never met a bigger group of feline bitches in my life. They will tear your shit up and smile while doing it. Just sayin’.”
Birch picked up where he left off. “He or she is out of reach right now, but FosCo wasn’t the only big business wrapped up in Unified Humanity. Pike gave us another name—a name that won’t go past our team until we figure out what the hell we want to do next.”
“We?” Declan raised his eyebrows in question.
“We.” Their team alpha gave Grant a blank stare. “We’re going to talk about a democracy since going against UH while there’s a traitor in SHOC might end up with some of us six feet under.”
“Sweet.” Grant punched the air. “First order of business, I want to be in charge of location selection for all future operations.”
“Grant,” Birch snapped, and the wolf immediately straightened, any hint of a smile vanishing from his expression. “This isn’t the time for fun and games. We do this, we do it knowing that shit is gonna keep getting flung at the fan and we’re the fucking fan that’s gonna end up covered in it.”
“I’m in.” Abby’s voice didn’t waver, and she straightened in Declan’s lap. “I know I’m not an agent, but if you’re taking votes, then I’m in.”
“Abby,” Declan murmured, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her close, but she wouldn’t have it.
“No.” She brushed off his hold and turned to face him. “Unified Humanity needs to be stopped. If there’s someone inside SHOC helping them succeed…we—you guys—have to do this.” His mate lowered her head, soft forehead pressed to his own while she whispered. “There can’t be any more children like me, Declan. Not if there’s something that can be done to stop them. Can you imagine another child out there in a burning house? Praying for their lives while they’re locked in a cupboard? The fire…”
“Shhh…sweetheart.” He cupped her cheeks and brushed away her tears. Declan lifted his head and let his gaze sweep the others, satisfied when they all gave him a brisk nod. “We’ll do what we can to stop them and find the traitor.” He directed his next question to Birch. “Where are we looking first?”
“Foster supplied the cash to Unified Humanity. Thanks to Pike’s intel, we’re going after the brawn next. We’re hoping that will lead us to the brains. Somewhere in there, we’ll find out who in SHOC is blocking us at every turn.” Birch leaned over the table, gaze intent. “Take some time to get your head on straight because once we’re back on deck, things are gonna get real ugly, real quick. This shit ain’t gonna be easy.”
Declan grinned, and the team spoke as one. “But it sure as fuck is gonna be fun.”
Dangerous, too, but at least he’d have Abby at his side. He could face anything as long as he had her in his life…and in his heart.
Read on for a peek at Cole’s story in TIGER’S CLAIM, coming in early 2018.
Chapter One
Cole figured Birch wouldn’t appreciate him blowing up a mansion overflowing with humans.
After Cole got out of the building, of course. No sense in killing his own tiger-shifting ass, after all. He only wanted to take out the humans who were desperate to see all shifters six feet under. They’d conveniently gathered in one place. Almost like they were asking to be turned into crispy critters.
It’d give him a chance to test the new charges he’d devel—
“Request denied.” A low growl from Birch—man, the grizzly was cranky—filled his ear. The team’s newest com device was tiny as hell—developed by his werewolf teammate Grant—and crystal clear. Unfortunately.
Cole lifted his glass of bubbling champagne to his lips and pretended to take a sip to shield his mouth as he spoke. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Nah,” Ethan—the only lion shifter on the team—drawled. “You just have that ‘let’s bring this building down’ look in your eye.”
Cole grunted. “I always do.”
He specialized in explosives, after all. It’d been too damned long since he’d watched anything disappear in a scattered wave of fire and concrete.
Two women wrapped in sequins and glittering jewels slowly strolled near, their gazes stroking him from head to toe. The blonde licked her red-painted lips, while the brunette gave him a look that promised a good time.
Yeah, he looked damned good in a tux if he did say so himself. He hated the penguin suits, but they had their uses in this kind of setting. They went with the polished floors, sparkling chandeliers, and millionaire crowd.
He lowered his glass and tipped his head to the women. “Ladies, good evening.”
The blonde wetted her lips, an obvious tease. The brunette’s mouth tipped up in a small smirk, and a glint of desire sparked in her eyes. He forced himself to appear interested when all he wanted to do was toss them both through the nearest window.
The only reason they were here at this Unified Humanity event was because they hated shifters.
“I don’t think we’ve met before, Mr.…” The brunette’s voice trailed off in obvious question.
“Turner.” His lips curled in a smile. “Cole Turner.”
“Bond. James Bond.” Grant’s deep voice—the pain-in-the-ass werewolf—reached him through the com. “Lame, man.”
Cole continued as if the jerk hadn’t spoken in his ear. “And you lovely ladies are?”
The brunette held out her hand first. “Olivia Walters.”
He gently grasped her fingertips and brought her hand to his mouth, brushing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “It’s a pleasure.”
In more ways than one. She was beautiful to look at—even if her father was an evil monster. More important, she was the first step in getting close to said evil monster. It’d only taken him four months of coming to these blasted hoity-toity parties—rejoining the old-money class he hated—to finally get invited to a Walters gathering.
Cole released Olivia’s hand and turned to the blonde. She was pretty in an understated way, and it didn’t take him long to realize nibbling her lower lip wasn’t meant to entice him. Her hand trembled as she held it out for his.
Huh. A nervous murderer. Interesting.
“
Charlotte—”
Olivia nudged Charlotte away, the woman’s hand dropping from Cole’s before his lips had a chance to brush her skin. “Cole…Can I call you Cole?” Olivia didn’t wait for a response. “Are you associated with the Turner Group?”
Cole parted his lips and drew in the surrounding scents. His tiger padded forward from the back of his mind, anxious to help so they could get the hell out of there. He tasted each flavor and easily identified them. Excitement. Anticipation. Arousal.
Gross.
“I am.” Unfortunately. He flashed her his most disarming grin and fought to suppress the churning in his gut. He hated his connections to the Turner Group, but they were undeniable and—right now—useful. “I’m the youngest of the Turners. My older brother is the president. The rest fall in line after him.”
Olivia giggled as if he’d said the most amusing thing in the world, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes. “And what do you do for the Turner Group?”
Cole winked at her. “I’m the independently wealthy black sheep of the family.”
Even if he had black-and-orange striped fur instead of wool.
“I’ve always enjoyed spending time with the naughty ones.”
“Olivia,” Charlotte broke in, and Olivia shot a glare at her friend. “Your father is looking for you.”
Olivia gave him a smile. “I’d love to finish this conversation later. If you’re not here with anyone, perhaps we can find each other again.”
Grant snorted in his ear and singsonged, “The chick wants some tiger dick.”
“The night is, happily, my own.” He winked.
She stepped closer, fingers skating down his lapel. “Excellent,” she purred. “I will see you later this evening, then.” With that, Olivia slowly turned away from him. “Come along, Charlotte.”
He kept his gaze on the two women, watching Olivia slice through the crowd with practiced ease while her little friend scurried in her wake. A waiter drifted past, and he reached out, snagging another glass of champagne.
Cole brought the glass to his lips and spoke to the others. “I don’t stick my dick in crazy.”
“The crazies are fun, though.” Ethan sighed. “They’re real freaky. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“Grant, identify the girl’s friend,” Birch said, as if they hadn’t ever been talking about fucking. Like always. “Put together a file. Charlotte seemed to like our boy.”
Cole slowly made his way along the outer edge of the crowd and turned to face the wall, gaze on some overly expensive—probably priceless—piece of shitty artwork. “She seemed like she’d piss her panties if I talked to her.”
“I thought you were into that.” Declan—the recently mated wolf on their team—just had to open his mouth.
“Nah, that’s your brother,” Cole murmured, and returned to his slow meandering.
“Don’t knock it till you try it.” Pike, Declan’s brother, spoke up.
Before that moment, Cole didn’t imagine their team could be quiet all at the same time, but…yeah. No one had a response to that, it seemed.
“Pike. What the fuck?” Disgust laced Declan’s words.
“Declan, don’t judge. Remember what the psych said when you asked about how you like to tie Abby to a tree?” Pike’s words were followed by Declan’s growl. “He said your kink is not my kink and that’s okay.”
“Grant.” Birch sighed. “Do you have that data on Charlotte?”
“Working on it. This conversation is funny as shit though. And did I mention I’m out of soda? ’Cause I’m out of soda.” That wolf and his junk food.
Their team alpha’s low growl—a real one that told them to shut the fuck up—silenced them all.
Cole took advantage of that bit of quiet. He drew his tiger forward to make his hearing even more sensitive. He listened to the murmured conversations as he drifted past one group after another.
He hated the entire scene—trophy wives, pompous executives, and bratty daughters hunting for a rich husband. More than one looked at Cole like he was rich husband material.
Rich? Yes.
Husband? A mate, maybe. Someday. A day far from right now and only after he found someone exactly like…
Like a woman who was already mated to one of Cole’s teammates, which made her off-limits.
He was an asshole, not a homewrecker. Even if he did feel a pull toward a certain cougar shifter.
Cole listened to the discussions with half an ear, gaze traveling over the people he neared. He mentally went through Grant’s research, identifying the humans he came across.
Net worth of…forty million. The next person was only twenty-five million. There was a woman who’d married well whose husband had died early. She was worth a hundred fifty million and had Walters closing in on her.
Yes, Walters needed money—a lot. It was only a matter of time before he believed Cole was the one to give it to him.
Olivia wandered up to her father just before he reached the widow, and the two exchanged a few whispered words.
“Looks like she’s telling Daddy about our boy,” Birch murmured, and Cole grunted.
Yeah, when James Walters cut Cole a quick glance before he refocused on Olivia, Cole knew he was their topic of conversation.
Cole took another sip of sparkling champagne. “Time to play hard to get.”
There was no sense in making it easy on Walters. Rich men were used to having to pander to richer men. Cole had triple the net worth of anyone else in the building. Easily.
He changed direction and carefully cut through the crowd, passing off easy smiles whenever someone looked his way. He lost himself among the penguin suits and glittering dresses, allowing the humans to swallow him in their presence. He kept a sedate pace, weaving between people until he finally reached the opposite side of the ballroom.
He turned and leaned against the cream-colored wall, taking another sip of champagne. The shit was nasty. What he wouldn’t give for a beer.
“How’s Papa?” Cole murmured.
“He left the widow, and it looks like Daddy and daughter are hunting you,” Declan answered.
“Good.” He’d stay put for a little while. Just long enough for them to catch sight of him before he changed position once more.
Except…All it took was a single flash of color—a cream gown with touches of red—that drew his attention from his mission. It drew him to her—a stranger with long red hair, sparkling green eyes, and kissable lips.
She was gorgeous. She was tempting. She was…a shifter?
About the Author
Celia Kyle is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, ex–dance teacher, former accountant, and erstwhile collectible doll salesperson. She now writes paranormal romances for readers who:
1) Like super-hunky heroes (they generally get furry)
2) Dig beautiful women (who have a few more curves than the average lady)
3) Love laughing in (and out of) bed.
It goes without saying that there’s always a happily-ever-after for her characters, even if there are a few road bumps along the way. Today she lives in central Florida and writes full-time with the support of her loving husband and two finicky cats.
Learn more at:
Twitter: @celiakyle
Facebook.com/authorceliakyle
CeliaKyle.com
