Page 21 of Targeted By Fate
“Do I get to keep that gun?” I never thought I’d ask for a weapon, but I never thought I’d mate into the mob either, so there was that.
“No. You’re not ready for that yet.” He pressed his forehead to mine.“But soon… soon you will be.”
“Are we coming back here tomorrow?”
“Yes and no.” He put the gun away and brought me back up to the second floor, which was filled with dummies and punching bags and those things you see at the end of a football field that players ram into. I was so outside my element. “Tomorrow we’re coming here, and I’m going to teach you how to take someone down using your hands. Because?—”
“Because my cat is so weak?”
“No. Your cat isn’t weak. But there are times when you don’t want to allow another to shift and acting quickly is key. And there are many humans in this city. Shifting in front of them would be bad.”
I hadn’t even considered that, I was too quick to jump to being butt hurt.
“Do you think I’ll be able to handle this?” Suddenly, my confidence faltered. Now I was worried. Could I handle this life?
“Yes. Fate made you mine for a reason. I promise you, Kitten, I’ll teach you how to keep yourself safe.”
“And you too.” I tapped his nose. “I want to keep you safe too.”
He shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Yes, and me too.”
I wasn’t sure he believed it, but I was going to make it true. Because he deserved a mate who could handle this life—and give back as much as they took.
And I was determined for that to be me.
11
BOAZ
I was so impressed with my mate. He trained in human form and learned hand-to-hand combat. He could use a Glock and now hit bullseyes 99% of the time. But most importantly, we had trained his beast to sniff out drugs, orthedrug: Duskthorn.
Duskhorn was basically the only thing he could scent and I hated that for him. The doctor assumed it had something to do with being drugged and the synthetically enhanced addictive nature of it. Everything we learned about this drug made us more determined to eradicate its distribution in our city and ideally everywhere.
In cat form, he was a sneaky little feline. Whereas a wolf was almost impossible to disguise in the city, no one paid attention to a stray cat. Keane became our lookout and was able to feed us vital information about the Ironclaw pack and their drug dealings.
We were able to disrupt the supply chains by going to the source: the harbor. A cat wandering the docks and onto ships, one who had been trained to sniff out drugs, was invaluable, though I worried the vessels would set sail with my mate onboard.
They were storing the drug in a warehouse near the dock, but it caught fire and the fire brigade took all night to put it out. That was thanks to my sneaky mate and his beast who set the contents of the warehouse alight.
But while the drugs were cremated, many of the Ironclaw members who harbored and sold them were alive. One more ship docked, and Keane detected Duskthorn on board. That vessel had already departed from its origin port before the warehouse was destroyed, and the captain had no choice but to continue the journey.
With Alpha’s approval, my brothers and I and handful of trusted pack members were entrusted with ending the trade.
We hid on the docks, in amongst the metal shipping containers, piled three and four high. One by one, the Ironclaw shifters carried crates from the bowels of the ship to a container on the far side of the dock. They were wary, treading softly and looking around them as if they expected to be intercepted. Also their scent was heightened, signaling they were scared, and even though the night was cold, their reeking body odor drifted to us on the breeze.
We had the advantage as the Ironclaw shifters needed their skin to transport the goods. Wolves were for tracking and fighting but not for moving crates. If they hadn’t invested so much money in the drug deal, they may have shrugged off the loss of the warehouse and its contents. Or perhaps their Alpha and his Betas were just greedy and didn’t mind losing pack members in a war, as long as they eventually made money.
Keane was crouched low beside me, and I squeezed his hand before he shifted. If the Ironclaw guys caught a whiff of his scent, they’d recognize it as shifter. But I sprayed him with a combination of pheromones and ammonia, basically artificial cat pee. Oof. What a stink!
His purpose was to distract the Ironclaw gang which would give us an advantage.
“What the fuck?” One of the Ironclaw shifters dropped his crate, and it toppled into the water. The others hunched over, their crates thunking on the gangway or deck, and someone fired a shot.
“Stop with the gunfire,” a voice hissed from the gangway. “It’s a damned cat. Probably looking for rats.”
Considering they’d lost the warehouse and its contents, they weren’t being overly careful, but they must have paid off the security people—or perhaps just offed them.
“Keep moving. Our boss will be pissed if we’re late, and Rolo, you have to retrieve that crate.”
