When A Lioness Growls (A Lion's Pride Book 7)

by Eve Langlais

  When A Lioness Growls

  A Lion’s Pride #7

  Eve Langlais

  Copyright © March 2017, Eve Langlais

  Cover Art by Yocla Designs © February 2016

  Edited by Devin Govaere, Amanda Pederick, Brieanna Robertson

  Produced in Canada

  Published by Eve Langlais

  http://www.EveLanglais.com

  E-ISBN-13: 978 1988 328 65 2

  Print ISBN-13: 978 1988 328 66 9

  All Rights Reserved

  When A Lioness Growls is a work of fiction and the characters, events and dialogue found within the story are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, either living or deceased, is completely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to digital copying, file sharing, audio recording, email and printing without permission in writing from the author.

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Also by Eve Langlais

  Introduction

  A trip to paradise. A mystery to solve. And a seriously uptight dude who doesn’t know how to smile.

  Stacey’s been intrigued by Jean Francois since the moment she first saw his granite countenance. Then when she found out he could fly… She never was one to leave her four feet on the ground.

  While she might act like a princess, adventure is her middle name. Under orders from her king, she drags poor JF along with her to an exotic location in search of answers. On the way, they find danger—fun—clues to unravel—stupendous—and a fiery lust that even he can’t resist.

  But when it comes to getting the man to make a commitment, this fiery-haired lioness is ready to growl. What will it take to make him admit he cares? Handcuffs come to mind.

  The books in A Lion’s Pride, a Bestselling series:

  Be sure to visit www.EveLanglais for more books with furry heroes, or sign up for the Eve Langlais newsletter for notification about new stories or specials.

  Chapter One

  “Play it again.” Because once just wasn’t enough for them to truly understand what they saw.

  Without saying a word, Arik, the lion pride king, his expression quite serious, replayed the video on the large screen. For a moment, utter silence reigned, a rarity when more than a few of the pride were gathered.

  The grainy film, shot in shades of green—the taping done at night via a special filter—showed a clearing in a jungle, or so the broad-leafed foliage would indicate. Into the opening ran a woman with long flowing hair dressed in a bikini with only a filmy wrap to cover it.

  The woman on screen glanced over her shoulder, her features facing the camera, consternation clear on her face. Her bosom noticeably heaved. It was a mighty bosom. Stacey’s more modest bosom hated it on principle.

  A blur of movement at the edge of the screen and another figure moved into view. Definitely male in build and stature, but not entirely human.

  “What the fuck is it?” asked the ever-eloquent Luna.

  “It looks just like a minotaur,” observed Melly with a cant of her head, as if turning it sideways would clarify matters.

  “But with a lion head. Totally cool,” added Meena.

  “The loin cloth is a nice touch.” Stacey noticed things like fashion.

  “I’ve never heard of a minotaur with a lion head.” Noted with clear confusion.

  “On account minotaurs specifically have bull heads.”

  “But do they have bull-sized balls?”

  “Does it fucking matter?” Luna snapped. “It’s obviously not a bull head, therefore not a minotaur.”

  “What should we call it then? A liotaur?” Joan tossed in her two cents.

  The shouts of “Brilliant”, and the high-fives aimed at Joan, some of them slapping harder than necessary, solved the question of what to call the man on the screen but still didn’t answer any questions.

  “Is it real or a hoax?” asked Teena, who had to stand since the chair she’d tried to sit in unexpectedly collapsed.

  Arik shrugged. “No idea. The footage isn’t clear enough to tell if it’s a mask or not. I will, however, note that I’ve never seen or heard of a species with only a lion’s head before.” Technically, any shifter with enough control could do it, but why only settle for the head when four legs with a tail was so much more awesome?

  Raising the remote, Arik pressed a button and replayed the video again, slower this time, frame by frame, so the group could lean close and take in every detail.

  The ladies that made up the crew of Baddest Biatches—now superheroes courtesy of some zombie ass-kicking caught the previous month on video—sat around mulling the footage and what it meant.

  No surprise, they couldn’t contain their curiosity.

  “What do you think happens after he carries her off?” Joan mused aloud.

  “I’d say that’s pretty obvious. What else does a man want a woman for?” muttered Luna with a good dose of sarcasm. “Or should I draw a picture for you?”

  “Oh hell no. Not with the pictures again.” Reba’s nose wrinkled. “Your artistic skills leave much to be desired.”

  “What are you talking about? I am an excellent artist.”

  “Of stick people and squiggles.”

  “Maybe if you had some imagination you would understand talent,” Luna growled.

  “If you call that talent, then I’m an excellent singer.”

  “How about we focus on the video and not your monthly tournament of Win, Lose, or Claw?” suggest Arik.

  “I think we should address it because she and her stick people keep making us lose,” Joan accused with a pointing finger.

  “Put it away or I’ll tear it off.”

  “I’d like to see you try,” said Joan with a smirk.

  Luna stood, every inch of her bristling.

  “Enough,” roared Arik.

  The squabbling women quieted, but Luna indicated with a tilt of her head that she and Joan would continue the discussion outside. Joan smiled. A Bad Biatch never walked away from a battle—unless she just had her nails done and the French manicure had cost a fortune. Then, a woman might choose to focus on what their king was trying to impart.

  “Is that the entire video?” Stacey asked.

  “Yes. And before you ask, it arrived anonymously with only a sheet of paper.” Arik held up the empty white parchment, whose letterhead read simply: Club Lyon Resort.

  “Isn’t that resort one of ours?” Stacey asked.

  “It is indeed. Club Lyon was acquired by the pride’s corporation. After extensive renovation, it finally opened thirteen months ago.”

  Luna frowned. “Hold on a second. If this happened on a pride-owned property, how come we’re hearing about this anonymously?”

  “That is a very good question. One that needs an answer.”

  “I know the answer.” Melly’s hand shot up. “No one wanted to tell the boss because they were afraid he’d kick their ass.”

  “That is a distinct possibility. And one that
I will address. However, this abduction situation also needs to be looked into. Once I received this video, I had Leo do some digging.”

  “That’s my pookie,” Meena exclaimed. “Always with his books and research. He’s so smart and hot.”

  Someone made a gagging noise. “Would you stop it already? We get that he’s taken. No need to shove our faces in it.”

  “It’s always good to remind you single gals that he’s mine, and you all remember what happened to the last girl who tried to touch him.” That girl ended up in traction and bald. The most unnerving part of the attack? Meena did it with a smile.

  “Back on track, ladies.” Arik snapped his fingers and earned a few snickers, probably because he’d called them ladies.

  Stacey flicked her hair back over her shoulder. Only one real lady in this room.

  “What did Leo find?” Luna asked.

  “It appears women have been disappearing in and around the island for over a year now,” Arik noted, pointing to a folder on the table. “In most cases, the women are found, safe and sound, a few days later, with no memory of where they’ve been. It gets chalked up to an island adventure that got a little wild. No big deal usually except this seems to be happening almost exclusively from our resort, and we have this.” He pointed to the screen and indicated the paused image of the liotaur.

  “You say the resort never reported anyone as missing. How do we know she was even staying there?”

  “Right after I docked them all for negligence, Leo accessed their database and confirmed she was a guest.”

  “Is she human or shifter?” asked Melly.

  “Shania Korgunsen is twenty-three years old and is of mixed blood but non-shifting.” Which meant one human parent, one shifter parent. Even if unable to transform, the girl would be a carrier of the gene.

  “How long since she disappeared?” Luna asked.

  “Room records show Ms. Korgunsen has not been to her room in two days.” Arik slammed the table. “Two freaking days and no one reported it to me, and by all indications, no one has been able to find any trace of her.”

  “Don’t we have any trackers at the resort?” Reba asked. Her nose wrinkled. “Surely someone out there has a nose to pick up the tracks.”

  “You would think that someone could find something, but because of a heavy rain shower, we can’t even confirm Ms. Korgunsen was in that clearing, despite the visual evidence.”

  “And you’re sure no one has seen or heard from her since she was kidnapped?”

  “Maybe she’s dead.” Melly, their resident B-grade-horror-movie geek, drew a line across her throat. “Shredded to pieces during the throes of his passion.”

  Joan snorted. “Or maybe she loved it so much she chose to stay with leo-dude.”

  “Either way it doesn’t matter. I won’t have this happening. Our reputation, and even our secret, is at risk. If someone is abducting women, then I want it stopped, and I want the names of those covering it up.” Arik almost roared, and the Baddest Biatches took note of their king’s demand.

  A dangerous mission in paradise? A hot dude and a mystery?

  The volunteers were quick to shoot hands in the air, screaming, “Me, I’ll do it.”

  Fights also immediately broke out.

  Luna lunged across the table in order to muffle Reba, shouting, “She can’t go. She promised to handle the visiting bear contingent next week.”

  To which Reba replied, “Luna can’t go either on account she’s pregnant!”

  Luna’s mouth rounded into an O of shock. “You bitch! That was supposed to be a secret.”

  “As if you could hide your widening ass.”

  “You’re just jealous because I have an ass.”

  “I’ll do it!” Joan offered.

  At this, Melly shot her cousin a glare. “You are not leaving me here alone to deal with Grandmother while Mom is on a cruise.”

  “She loves you.”

  “Last time I checked in on her she made me trim her claws—with my teeth!”

  As they all argued their merits, Stacey shook her head. None of them were going because she had them all beat. She closed the file that she’d snared while everyone yapped and yodeled.

  She raised her hand, and her very politeness had the lionesses quieting as Arik said, “You wanted to add something, Stacey?”

  “There is only one obvious choice for this mission. Whatever is happening over there requires a certain finesse. And attributes.” She fluffed her fiery locks.

  “Are you saying he likes redheads? Easy enough to dye mine,” Joan replied.

  “Until you drop your pants and the rug below doesn’t match,” retorted Luna.

  “Shaving would take care of that.”

  “I’m not speaking of hair,” Stacey muttered. “But access. I can get into places most of you can’t.”

  “I’m capable of taking one for the team,” Joan said with a wink.

  “She’s not talking about sex,” Reba snapped. “I know what she’s talking about and so do you. You just don’t want to admit she’s best suited for this job.”

  “How is she supposed to handle a possible predatory abductor? She’s only an event specialist,” Joan argued.

  “Only?” Stacey arched a perfectly groomed brow. “I’ll have you know that my job is very complex. And that same job will get me into offices and access to people that a regular guest might not have.”

  “Because telling them you’re planning a wedding or bachelorette party is going to lead you to a kidnapper.” Joan rolled her eyes.

  “What if it does?”

  “How will you handle it? Threaten him with the mascara in your purse?”

  “Nothing wrong with looking good. You should try it sometime,” Stacey remarked with a disparaging glance at Joan, still dressed in her running attire.

  “Don’t knock Stacey’s skills. She is a member of the Baddest Biatches for a reason,” Reba stated, coming to her defense.

  Arik held up his hand. “Enough. With event coordinator status within the pride, Stacey could totally gain access to places if they thought she was there to plan a huge event,” Arik mused aloud. “It’s settled. She is going.”

  Stacey’s lips curved in triumph.

  Her victory was short-lived. “I don’t want you going alone.” The king sounded most adamant on that point.

  “Must I take one of them?” she said with a melodramatic sigh. Faked of course. If one lioness in paradise was fun, a pair of them together meant trouble with a capital T.

  “Take one of the crew and cause another international incident?” Arik laughed. Laughed for a good minute. “I think not. Not to mention sending you with any kind of male lion might spook the target. We need someone a bit more under the radar.”

  “Is Jeoff going to loan me a puppy?” Jeoff, as head of the small city wolf pack, also doubled as pride security. She could handle a wolf. Get it a nice leash and collar, bedazzled of course, for when she took it on walks.

  “Actually, I’ve got something better than a wolf in mind.”

  And by better he meant tall, handsome, and utterly repressed.

  The mission kept getting better and better. Especially since Arik handed her—albeit unknowingly—the pride’s credit card to shop for some clothes so she’d fit in. I am going to paradise. Which meant she needed a teeny-tiny bikini—the smaller, the better—plus loads of sunscreen because her fair skin would burn. Good thing Arik gave her a partner to slather it on.

  Rawr.

  Chapter Two

  This mission sucked balls already. Surely he could be doing something better with his time. Anything. Even watching paint dry sounded more fun. But no, Jean Francois was being a good soldier for his boss.

  “I need you to deliver something safely.” That was the only instruction the boss gave JF, other than telling him to wait on the airstrip outside town. An airstrip owned by the local lion’s pride. Don’t tell me we’re doing another favor for those mangy felines.

  Ev
er since they’d come to town, the local pride had been a source of annoyance. Who decided it was a good idea to give household pets such a commanding role? And why did his boss, Gaston, feel such a need to cater to this supposed lion king?

  Ever since Gaston had hooked up with that feline Reba, the boss had been doing all kinds of things that were out of character, including smiling. A necromancer smiling, and sometimes even laughing. With joy.

  Ugh. What was it about love and happiness that took a great man like Gaston and made him weak? Soft. So soft that his boss thought he should send his right-hand man on a stupid mission that involved waiting.

  And more waiting, as the appointed time of eight a.m. came and went. If JF were a less patient man, he would have left, but the boss paid for his smartphone data, so he contented himself watching an episode of Breaking Bad on Netflix.

  At about half past ten, a sports car, painted a bright cherry red, which, surprisingly enough, didn’t come with a trail of screaming cop cars, screeched to a halt outside the plane. A curvy redhead in an outfit that should never see the light of day—the dress more suited as a shirt, given how much leg it exposed—popped out of the front seat, holding aloft a box.

  At last. The package for delivery. About time.

  Exiting his car, he took long strides towards her. “I’ll take that.” He held out a hand for the box and couldn’t help but note just how big he was in comparison to the woman, something that didn’t daunt her at all.

  The darkness inside him took note of her scent—feline, no surprise, but with a hint of cinnamon spice. The aroma of her wrapped around him and made his mouth water for a bite.

  No eating the messenger. Given her red hair, she’d probably be the type to get angry while he ate.