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Predator's Rescue

Page 1

by Rosanna Leo




  Predator’s Rescue

  Gemini Island Shifters, Book 7

  Rosanna Leo

  Published: 2016

  ISBN: 978-1-62210-338-6

  Published by Liquid Silver Books. Copyright © 2016, Rosanna Leo.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Manufactured in the USA

  Email support@liquidsilverbooks.com with questions, or inquiries about Liquid Silver Books.

  Blurb

  Tiger shifter Jani Fodor should have washed his hands of Fleur Bissette long ago. However, when she disappears from the shape-shifter sanctuary on Gemini Island, he can’t forget her, and launches a fraught two-week search to find her. He thinks she’ll be grateful but the petulant she-wolf resents his intrusion in her life.

  Jani recently liberated Fleur from a vicious cult of shape-shifters, where she was brainwashed by the sadistic August Crane. The wolf shifter terrorized their friends at the Ursa Fishing Lodge and Resort on Gemini Island. Labeled a “bad girl” all her life, Fleur knows she’ll never fit in with the good guys at the Ursa, no matter how much Jani tries to convince her of their regard. Besides, she can’t stay with Jani. Although he’s the closest thing she’s ever had to a friend, their chemistry is explosive in the worst way.

  When a new menace arises, in the form of a vicious drug dealer with a grudge, Jani is adamant Fleur accept his help to rehabilitate her addict mother and remove her from the influence of her dealer. Fleur accepts Jani’s assistance but as they work together, friendship erupts into passion. Neither can deny their lust-struck spirit animals, and before long, they realize their connection runs deeper than they ever expected.

  Despite the threats posed by the drug dealer, the worst danger of all dwells inside Fleur. Haunted by the spirit of August Crane, Fleur is inundated by visions that torment her. She is consumed by guilt and plagued by old hostilities. Can this bad girl make good? And is Jani’s love enough to save her from her demons?

  Dedication

  So many people have helped and encouraged me on my writing journey but I’d like to thank Nita Banks (The Book Chick) and Joni Gooss (Luv My Books) for being such champions of my books. Since the day you ladies discovered my romances, you have shared them with so many readers. I thank you for your support and friendship.

  Acknowledgements

  I’d like to offer a hearty “thank you” to the members of my street team, Rosanna Leo’s Pride, for all the love and laughs. Thanks to Eniko Tolnai, for sharing information on the Hungarian language (especially the naughty words). Two of my readers helped me with naming characters for this book. Thank you to Heather Hand for naming the dastardly Wilf, and thanks to Barbi Davis for allowing me to use her name for the character of Barbi Bissette. As always, I’d like to thank the fine team at Liquid Silver Books for nurturing me as an author and for treating me like family. Many thanks to my editor JoAnne Soper-Cook for polishing my work and for appreciating my “Canadianisms.” A hearty thank you as well to author Em Petrova, for casting a final glance at the manuscript and sharing her feedback.

  Chapter 1

  JANI Fodor strode into the bar, expecting trouble. He knew he’d found it when every delinquent there turned to gape at him. He smelled it in the sweat and beer-stained upholstery. The cockroach beating a hasty retreat toward the door only confirmed it.

  The only people who frequented this pit were shapeshifter thugs. And her.

  He swallowed, tasting Fleur on the tip of his tongue. She was near, or at least, she had been recently. Her green apple scent still clung to the air. Or was it possible it clung to him? He wasn’t sure anymore. He’d made so many mistakes in searching for Fleur, he didn’t know if he should rely on his senses any longer.

  He breathed in deeply, relying on his tiger instead, trusting its intuition. His pretty she-wolf might not be in the common area of the bar, but she was close. He spied a couple of closed doors in back. Private rooms? They wouldn’t be private by the time he finished here.

  Resisting the urge to tear those closed doors off their hinges, he sat at the bar and ordered a beer, taking stock of the situation. His back itched with all the gazes turned his way. He’d counted about fifteen shifters in the room, all dressed like bikers who hadn’t seen showers in months.

  Not good odds. For them.

  In his experience, even one pissed off shifter could take down several of his kind if given the right motivation. He had plenty.

  Leveling his gaze at the bartender, Jani ignored the anxious frisson traveling along his spine.

  The spirit animal inside him made its frustration known in a low rumble. Just kill them all.

  Now, now, Jani replied. Let’s try to be civilized first.

  “Haven’t seen you here before,” the bartender lisped through his missing teeth, setting a beer before him.

  Jani didn’t touch the drink. Call him a snob but he didn’t like drinking from slimy glasses. “Where’s Fleur?”

  The bartender grabbed an empty glass and wiped it with an even dirtier cloth, staring at everything but Jani. “Looks like it might rain. They called for five centimeters on the weather report.”

  Jani’s tiger bristled, even more eager to knock heads. He bit back the urge to lash out and continued on the diplomatic tack. “Is that so? Sadly, I didn’t come here for your thoughts on precipitation levels. Where is Fleur Bissette?”

  The bartender shook his head, as if he didn’t speak the same language.

  “I’ve asked around and I was told to come here.”

  The man’s watery brown eyes seemed to grow more watery. “I don’t think I can help you.”

  “Of course, you can. I smell her perfume. She’s been here.” He motioned to the doors in back. “I could save you the trouble of telling me. I could poke around instead.”

  “Look, buddy. I don’t know anyone by the name of…what did you call her, Fleur?”

  Jani took a breath, fearing his flared nostrils might actually make him resemble the angry tiger crouching inside his human body. “Let me explain something. Not only was I sent in the direction of this bar, I was told to talk to the bartender. So unless there are a few more urine-peddling publicans behind this counter, it would seem you are my man. My source said Fleur recently picked up a couple of waitressing shifts here. In fact, she served him just the other day.” He sighed in melodramatic fashion. “Which makes you a terrible liar, my friend.”

  The bartender’s gaze landed on the tense muscles at Jani’s shoulders. “Listen here, friend. I don’t want any trouble.”

  “I’m not offering it to you, unless of course you continue to lie.”

  A few of the men in the back of the bar stood and meandered close to Jani, listening to the exchange, clearly hoping to see a fight. With his tiger shifter senses, Jani could almost hear the quickening of their excited pulses. They wanted a brawl? Good. He was in the mood for one too.

  The tiger inside him snarled, eager to spill blood. His spirit animal was mad. Ever since Fleur had run away and ever since he’d lost her scent, the animal had been ravenous. Neither of them trusted her on her own. She was confused, distraught.

  Although she might not be willing to admit it, she needed him.

  He spun around on his barstool and leaned back on the bar. “Ah, more new friends. How kind of you
to welcome me.”

  One of the men, a grizzly shifter, spat on the floor. “This ain’t no welcome, kitty cat.”

  Another shifter, some kind of mangy wolf, sniffed. “Where are you from anyway? You talk funny.” He elbowed his buddy. “He sounds like Count Dracula.”

  Jani resisted the urge to slap him. As chief advisor to the Grand Prince of the federation of Hungarian tribes, he commanded respect back home in Budapest. Of course, these hicks from backwoods Northern Ontario wouldn’t understand. “None of your business.”

  The first man, a great oaf if Jani had ever seen one, picked at Jani’s jacket lapel. “We don’t like foreigners who ask questions.”

  Once again, Jani’s temper flared but he swallowed his simmering rage. He stood and raised his voice so he could be heard over Loretta Lynn’s tinny warbling as it emanated from the jukebox. “Now I’m going to ask everyone in this shithole one more time. I’m looking for Fleur Bissette. Where is she?”

  There was a crash and a feminine cry from behind one of the closed doors. Jani didn’t hesitate. He launched himself off his stool and toward the door, already on the verge of shifting. His tiger hairs danced in anticipation under his skin, ready to burst through his pores.

  The two men who’d approached him grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him back.

  “Hey, asshole,” the grizzly man shouted. “You’re not allowed back there. Private parties only.”

  Jani glanced at the hand on his shoulder and then at the man. “One warning. Take your hands off me.”

  The idiot snorted and looked at his pal. “Why waste your time lookin’ for Fleur anyway? That girl’s nothing but trouble. Trouble loves her. In fact, she’s probably spreading her legs to trouble right now.”

  Jani reached for the man’s arms and spun him around. “What did you say?”

  “It’s all the bitch knows how to do. That’s all women like her are good for anyway.”

  Jani reared back and let his fist fly, cracking it against the man’s face. The grizzly shifter flew across the room, hitting the back wall, collapsing to the floor. The grim satisfaction of seeing the man crumple overrode any pain in his knuckles. In fact, it felt so good to hit the jackass he had to hold his hand behind his back so he wouldn’t hit him again.

  No one, no one, insulted Fleur. The man was lucky Jani didn’t kill him for the slight. Fleur had been called too many names in her time, and he’d made it his mission to see she was never belittled again.

  Jani nodded toward the other men. “Don’t even think of stopping me.”

  He tried the closed door, relieved to find it unlocked. He flung the door open and his tiger senses homed in on her immediately.

  Fleur had clearly been serving drinks to the small group of shifter bikers inside, but one of them had gotten a little too close to the new waitress. Her tray of drinks lay on the floor, smashed, and one of the men had her over his lap. His large hand caressed her ass as she squirmed in his grip.

  As time seemed to freeze for Jani, Fleur turned to glance at him. She mouthed his name.

  The silent plea made his heart twist in his chest. Had she actually spoken aloud? He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t hear her voice. His ears were ringing too much as his tiger roared her name.

  Her dark eyes seemed to grow darker, black with emotion, but he didn’t take time to analyze the sentiment flitting behind her irises.

  With a noise that must have sounded more animal than man, Jani raced toward her and pulled her off the man’s lap. He moved her toward the door, so she wouldn’t be hurt in the melee. He then turned to the shithead who’d grabbed her, a growl emanating from his furious core.

  The biker, startled and likely drunk, didn’t react quickly enough to shift. Jani hauled him off his chair and thrust him toward the wall.

  “Jani,” Fleur called, her voice loud and clear now. “Don’t. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “His hand was on your ass. I know enough.”

  One of the other men was foolhardy enough to try to stop him. He tried to yank Jani away but Jani snapped his arm back, using his elbow to hammer the man in the face. Cradling his bloody nose, the man retreated.

  Jani turned his attention back to the shifter who’d groped Fleur. “That was the last time you ever touch her.” Bracing himself, he head-butted him. A sickening crack sounded in the room. The man moaned, his eyes rolled back, and he dropped to the floor.

  Ignoring the pain exploding through his forehead, Jani marched toward Fleur, picked her up, and hauled her over his shoulder.

  “Hey. Put me down! You have no right.”

  No right. He might have laughed if he wasn’t concerned about getting her out of there in one piece.

  Holding out his free arm to warn off any others who might consider having a go at him, Jani carried the writhing Fleur out of the room and out of the bar. His heart thumped against his chest just from holding her. Granted, he hadn’t quite envisioned holding her like this, her ass high in the air near his face, but it pleased him more than he cared to admit out loud. Something about the scenario made his inner caveman very happy.

  His spirit animal crouched low inside him, its flashing tiger eyes locked on her round bottom. Just a little nibble?

  No, stupid cat. Leave me alone.

  She tried to wrench herself out of his grip. “Jani Fodor, if you don’t put me down right now, I’ll scream.”

  “Do you expect me to believe those degenerates would rush out here to help you?” He trudged toward the parking lot and the pickup truck he’d borrowed from Ryland Snow. Not exactly the cherished black Maserati GranTurismo he kept at home in Budapest, but it would have to do.

  “I mean it, tiger man. I’m in the middle of something and you’re ruining it.”

  “And you’re in danger of ruining your life,” he replied through gritted teeth, using his free hand to swipe at the trickle of blood dripping from the wound in his forehead. “I’m not going to stand back and watch you do it.”

  He hauled open the passenger side and tossed her in as gently as he could, slamming the door behind her. As he expected, Fleur scrambled over to the driver’s side, intent on escaping, but he raced to the other side and beat her to the punch. He slid in, blocking her exit, locked the doors, and thrust the key into the ignition.

  She reached for the passenger door but he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. “I swear to God, Fleur. If you keep struggling, I will tie you up and put you over my own knee.” He nodded to the space behind the seats where he’d stowed a few coils of rope.

  Fleur’s eyes widened in defiance and a hint of intrigue as she examined the ropes. “You don’t have the balls.”

  “Don’t test me, little wolf. I warned you some time ago I keep my promises.”

  “I’m supposed to be working. Don’t you care I’ll lose my livelihood? They’ll fire me.”

  “Good. You don’t want that shit bar on your resume anyway.”

  “You just don’t get it,” she persisted. “I was doing something important back there.”

  “Oh, forgive me. I didn’t know serving tequila to hoodlums was considered such important work. Someone call Doctors Without Borders. They got it wrong. Perhaps it’s not too late for them to change their mission statement.”

  “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

  “And you, Fleur,” he countered, his voice rising, “have no fucking clue.”

  Her breath escaped in a defeated puff. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Back to Gemini Island, of course. Where you belong.”

  Fleur’s eyes narrowed and her generous lips compressed. “I don’t belong there. I never belonged there. Oh, and by the way, I hate you.”

  Although his tiger sulked at her words, Jani knew she spoke out of anger and did his best to ignore her as he peeled out of the bar parking lot. Blood gathered in his eyebrow, close to seeping into his eye, but he used the back of his hand to give his
head another swipe. The contact caused his aching brain to throb even harder.

  Perhaps he should just bleed out and teach her there were consequences to her actions. No. She’d simply step over his corpse and continue on her path to damnation.

  He had to be insane helping this woman. He’d thought so the first time he came to her aid and clearly he’d only grown more deranged.

  Only this time, he suspected his mania had less to do with good intentions and more to do with Fleur’s delicious scent and how good her ass felt under his hand as he carried her.

  Her choice of attire did nothing to appease his nerves either. Currently clad in a tight denim miniskirt, a clingy tank top, and high-heeled ankle booties, she looked like a biker’s wet dream come true. She’d never been one to wear blazers and blouses but he’d never seen her dress so provocatively. It made his hackles stand on end, mostly because the feline demon inside him wished she would dress that way for him. His possessive animal side didn’t want her parading in such tight clothing. Sure, in the privacy of his own room, his woman could undress all she wanted, but he didn’t want her putting her wares on display for a bunch of drunks.

  What am I thinking? She’s not even my woman.

  His tiger objected with a silent roar.

  Jani removed his light jacket and handed it to her. “Put this on. You’ll catch your death in that pitiful excuse for a shirt.”

  “Listen, buddy. You don’t get to insult my style.” She rolled her shoulders back, which only succeeded in thrusting her nipples toward the sky. “And you can keep your jacket. I didn’t ask for your help.”

  Holy Mother, if he had to stare at her ample breasts the entire journey back to the island, he’d end up doing a mischief to himself. He could already feel the imaginary noose tightening around his neck. This woman tried his patience like no other. “Fine. Stay cold for all I care.”

  Perhaps the September wind would teach her a bit of humility. He’d hoped she would have learned that lesson already.

 

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