"No. Drink it outside. Or better yet, use it to kill the grass in the driveway."
"Right ya are, sir." The black-haired man throws off a mock salute. "You're the alpha."
"I'm not your alpha," I call as I head to the kitchen. Breakfast. Food. Normalcy. Go through the motions, even if normal is a foreign country I'll never visit again.
"You're the king of the beasts, aren't ya now? If you're in a pack, you'll be at the lead."
"We're not a pack." I open the fridge and grab the first thing that looks good-a container of milk. I tip it up and drink straight out of the carton, ignoring Parker leaning in the door.
"Ready for the big fight?"
I grunt.
"Another grizzly shifter. This one from Saskatchewan or some Godforsaken place. I swear all they do in the lumber yards is fight."
"Good." Less chance my lion will kill them.
"Betting's pretty evenly split," Parker muses. "The bruins are the only ones who can take you."
A plastic container filled with some sort of homemade biscuits sits on my counter. I tap it. "What's this?"
"Scones. Laurie made them." As soon as he says it I smell the feathery scent of the owl shifter along with the sharp sugary tang of the baked good. I open the container and take two.
My pocket vibrates and pull out my phone. A text from an unknown number.
Layne and I are driving over. We have intel for you.
I type back, I'll be at The Pit. And because I can't stop myself. What intel?
Kylie got a hit on a woman living in Temecula. Going to confirm now, but we think it's Denali.
Denali.
RED. Black. The cell door opens, I stand at ready. The guards come in, weapons trained on me. I expect them.
I don't expect her. The scent of cinnamon fills the air. Cinnamon… and arousal.
"NASH? NASH?"
The memory goes dark, and ebbs away, leaving Parker's worried face. Behind him, Declan and Laurie stand at the door, staring at me.
The world tints red for a second. My lion trying to take hold. These flashbacks are unmanageable. I'm barely sane on a good day. What will happen if it is Denali?
"I gotta go." Two steps to the door, and I reverse, grabbing another scone and holding it up for the tall man to see. "Thanks. These are good."
The owl shifter blinks at me from behind his Coke-bottle glasses.
I leave out the back door.
Nash
THIS TIME OF DAY, The Pit is mostly deserted, which is a good thing, my lion is riled up enough at the lingering smell of shifters. I let him out and prowl around the grounds. We're far enough in a run-down industrial district that no one will see a lion pacing the perimeter of a dingy warehouse. No one comes back here but shifters, and the shifters who come here will recognize me. This is my territory. My kingdom. I let my mad lion mark his territory, slinking along the chain link fence that surrounds the parking lot, then I shift and put my clothes back on. I head inside for a drink, trying not to think of how pathetic I've become.
A few minutes later, a blond man steps inside, sniffing the air. At the bar, I raise my glass in invitation. He nods and steps back, allowing his companion to enter before him. A striking, young Asian woman with long dark hair approaches. She stares right at me. I meet her gaze in mild challenge. She's a new shifter-one of the more successful creations of Dr. Smyth's, and dominant. My lion normally would challenge her boldness, but right now he doesn't see her as a threat. This is a meeting of allies, and he knows he's about to get what he wants.
Sam sits. Without a word, he lays his phone on the bar, screen up. There's a picture of a woman leaving a house, her face half shuttered behind the screen door.
My chest tightens. Denali. The room blurs, turning red.
Sam puts a finger on the screen and swipes to show me the rest. Denali headed down the drive, entering a car. Long legs in cutoff shorts, a plain white tee showcasing lean taut arms. "My contact took them this morning. Confirmed the address of the house. She seems to be living there." Sam slides a piece of paper to me, but I can't tear my eyes away from the picture. In every photo, there's a serious expression on her face-not quite sad. Distant.
"Is this her?" Layne asks.
"Yes." I find my voice. "It's her." Denali. Mine, my lion roars, shaking the bars of his cage. He wants to come out and go on the hunt. Find Denali, make his claim. Mine.
Crimson clouds my vision. I blink, and everything goes black.
I raise my head, realizing I've been silent for a few minutes. The air is thick with tension. Layne's eyes are shifter bright. They know I'm unhinged. Hell, I could've killed Sam last year when he decided the best way to enlist my aid in finding Dr. Smyth was to go a round in the ring with me. He brought up Denali and I partially shifted right there in the cage. Put my claws right through him. But he survived, and we got Smyth. And this is what he promised me in return-finding my mate.
"Sorry it took so long," Sam says. The hair on his arms stands on end, but his voice is calm. He might not be the biggest shifter, but he's a cool head under pressure. Unlike the rest of us. "I thought for sure we had her last time."
My fist clenches and I have to work to relax it. "She probably moves around a lot." She'll be hiding like we are. Always looking over her shoulder. Never knowing if someone who wants to do more testing will show up.