Chapter 3
Elizabeth arrived home and dropped her bag onto the battered and scarred wood surface of her coffee table. Like everything in her home, once it had been new and beautiful and bright, but now it was tainted like her body and her mind. A few unexpected shifts into some big-ass scaly, motherfucking animals and she’d done the damage herself, so she couldn’t really complain. She’d fought against the fire-breather’s claim on her body, wishing like hell it had been one of the others that had surfaced instead. Even the wolf would have been better than the black dragon that singed the curtains with a simple sneeze. A wolf, lion, puma, bear, hell, she’d even been a dog and a cat when the doc had been trying to calculate the correct dosage of her meds. Her bones had contorted and twisted several times in an hour, before shifting into different forms, leaving her exhausted when it was all said and done. Which animal would appear next was anyone’s guess. Owning nice things was a thing of the past. She made herself a glass of sweet tea and grabbed the confidential police file from her bag before dropping into the earthy brown plush recliner. She kicked up her feet, ready to get down and dirty in the details.
She dug into the file, a mystery to figure out. She read the entire thing, twice. Missing people was putting it mildly. The fliers for the missing, in the back of the folder, were all women ages twenty-one to thirty-five. They’d all gone missing in a five-block radius of the Honey Pot, the notorious human/shifter shared bar in the Glades, the only one in two hundred miles where it didn’t matter what your species was. They’d take anyone’s money in exchange for the liquor. The owners were either geniuses or daft. Humans were no match for shifters that held tempers. The security guard alone would have to be one hulking beast.
About half of the women reported missing were shifters, the other half humans, leading her to quickly rule out a hate crime. There were plenty who didn’t like the idea of breathing the same air, and just as many more who didn’t really care, not to mention the groupies begging to be turned, as though it was a damn privilege instead of a curse.
There were no leads, only the gender to go on. A chill skirted down her spine. She’d been a missing woman once, and the things they’d done to her…. She clenched her teeth to avoid the shift, trying to forget the horrendous memories. If the people responsible were playing the same game and had their hands in this mess, damn right, they’d pay. She’d see to it personally.
“You’re wasting time, Hanson,” she whispered, pushing the footrest back into place. “Another one could be snatched at any minute.”
She grumbled as she headed into her room to pack her bag, making sure she had enough darts, knives, and guns to last her however long the mission was going to take. The darts she coveted were the ones they’d used to take down the biggest and worst shifters that the town of Crompton had ever seen. What she lacked in weapons, her animals would have to handle. Tossing some of her clothes, meds, and toiletries in the bag, she laid the file on top before zipping it up. A shower, another dose of the medication to mask her scent and she was out the door for her first look at the bar before any of the introductions were made.
Carrying her luggage to the front door, she gave one last, longing look around the apartment she was leaving behind. It wasn’t much, but it was hers. She closed the door, not knowing when she’d be back. If she had her way, she’d have the case solved tonight.
****
Elizabeth relaxed in her car outside the Honey Pot. She could hear the beat of the music drifting out into the warm summer night air. The full, graveled parking lot brimmed with cars and trucks. For a Thursday night, the place was packed. She checked the ammo in the clip before shoving the gun into her leg holster and adjusting her jeans back into place. She’d opted to carry her SID badge clipped to her jeans, using the flowing material of her black shirt to keep it out of sight. One last swipe of lip gloss across her lips and she snatched the clutch from the passenger seat and stepped out of the car.
Various scents assaulted her nose, and she took a minute to decipher all of the animals nearby. The stench of musky wolves, the sweet and outdoorsy tinge of bears, and...she tilted her head and inhaled deeper, trying to determine the last smell… “What is that smell?”
Regardless of what they were, she straightened her shoulders, placed a fake smile on her face, and headed toward the doors. There were a handful of humans and shifters standing outside the door. Some were flirting, some talking, and others on the side of the building could have been charged with indecent exposure. A man had a woman pressed against the wall. Their grunts filled the air, along with the musky scent of sex.It’s just a bar, full of deadly animals, but still, just a bar,she repeated in her head.
She stepped inside the building and paused as her gaze adjusted. The hypnotic music saturated her pores, tugging at memories she’d buried long ago. She wasn’t here to enjoy herself. Hell, she couldn’t remember the last time she had.
Scanning the occupants, she sized them all up, assigning a breed and the best way to beat them to a pulp, if the need arose. Several conversations had stopped as some of the men glanced her way. Gazes traveled from the red-painted toenails in her three-inch heels up to her face before the stupid ones dismissed her as a threat, returning to what they were doing. A few lust-filled gazes lingered, and she rolled her eyes. The magic drugs were working their mojo, hiding her scent.
“Excuse me.” A dark-haired woman with long, flowing hair stepped up next to Elizabeth and gave a genuine smile. “Here goes nothing.” She wiggled her brows, pressing her palm to her stomach before sauntering toward a table in a darker corner of the club.
Elizabeth moved over to the bar and slid onto an empty stool. The six-foot-five grizzly pouring a beer from the tap glanced her way and winked. “Be with you in a minute, sweetheart.”
The bartender’s blue eyes twinkled with mischief as he handed the beer to an old man seated in front of the taps. The bartender’s short brown hair was cut in military fashion. A flash of tattoos peeked out from beneath the sleeve of his shirt. There was no denying the relationship between this man and her boss. Their good looks alone confirmed that fact without her ever having to take a sniff.
He tossed the rag over his shoulder and headed in her direction. His black T-shirt stretched tightly across his broad, muscular chest. His jeans rode low on his tapered hips. She swallowed hard, trying her best to refrain from licking her lips. Getting involved with someone on an assignment wasn’t an option. For her, it might never be.
“What can I get you?” he asked in a deep baritone voice that wrapped around her body, caressing it like a lost lover. What the fuck was wrong with her?
“Just a bear.”
Sex-on-a-stick shot her a sexy, devious smile, and she realized her mistake.
“I mean a beer,” she amended and swallowed around the lump stuck in her throat. He made her nervous and antsy like nothing she’d ever felt.
He placed his palms on the bar and leaned forward as if peering into her soul. He inhaled and tilted his head, letting his baby blues caress her face, touching every inch of her down to her chest with his hungry gaze.
She clenched her legs together, fighting against his pull, against giving him any sign of interest. Her job was going to be hard enough without all of the dirty thoughts swimming through her head. Damn.
“You do have beer, don’t you?” she prodded, trying her best not to use a come-hither voice.
His lips twisted into a full grin in response before he broke her gaze, giving her room to breathe. He pulled a bottle out of the cooler next to him. Flicking off the top, he set a napkin down in front of her before placing the bottle on top.
“You’re new in town,” he said more as a statement than a question, using the same tactic her boss was famous for.
Remembering why she’d been sent was the only thing that made her hormones transform from an all-out frenzy to a dull simmer she could handle.
“Is that a question?” she asked, after taking a long pull of the ice-cold brew. The liquid cooling her throat helped ease the tension in her shoulders.
“No, I’d remember you.” He held out his hand. “My name’s Rhys.”
