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  My fingers creep up and check for my collar. It’s still buckled snug around my throat. I sigh, sinking further into the passenger seat.

  I do what I do best and stay meek and quiet for the first few minutes of the ride. I should be frantic leaving my master’s neighborhood with a strange shifter. A huge, angry shifter who hasn’t stopped growling since he unlocked my cage, scooped me into his arms and carried me from the house to the truck.

  The road flies by before I have the courage to speak up. “Are you okay?”

  “What?” He looks startled.

  I shrink deeper into my seat. “You’re growling.”

  He grimaces and rubs his chest. “Yeah. My bear didn’t like how you were being kept.”

  I almost agree with him out loud, but a twinge of guilt keeps me from speaking against my master.

  “Did my master send you to get me?”

  The big guy looks away and I know his answer before he tells me. “No.”

  I chew on this for the next few miles. I’m pretty calm, all things considered. But then, I’ve always rolled with life’s punches. When you’re a submissive shifter, there’s not much else you can do. The world is big and bad and the animal inside me likes to hide.

  Now she’s alert, taking stock of our surroundings without the usual fearful edge. The truck is big and loud but doesn’t smell like the big shifter bear beside me.

  “This is a nice truck,” I say.

  “Not mine,” he grunts. After changing lanes, he offers more. “I stole it. I only had my bike and didn’t want to wake you.”

  I glance out the window at the exit signs flying by. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Somewhere safe.”

  Safe. The magic word. My fox relaxes. She doesn’t retreat, but I’m filled with the happy drowsiness that I rarely feel and always seek. My fox is usually on such high alert watching for predators, it takes the controlled pain to quiet her, to let me sleep. Even in subspace, she’s silently watching and waiting, filled with disappointment for a master that won’t appear. A good master. Someone who will protect us and keep us safe.

  The sun cresting over the mountains means it’s morning.

  “How long did I sleep?”

  “Fuck if I know,” he sounds angry, but my fox is tuned into the loud rumble in his chest, and she knows the anger isn’t directed at her. “I arrived and you were alone. Why the fuck did your master leave you after a scene? Not just alone, but in a fucking cage?”

  “My fox doesn’t always do well when I’m asleep. She’s scared.” Scaredy fox, I call her.

  “You don’t belong in a fucking cage,” the male says, his voice mixing with his bear’s in a nearly unintelligible growl.

  I bow my head and the rumbling in his chest subsides.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he mutters. He spares me a quick glance. His eyes are a mix of brown and gold, his bear making his presence known.

  “You don’t scare me,” I assure him, my heart light and free when I realize it’s true.

  “Here.” The bear hands me a bottle of water. “You need to drink something.”

  I recognize the bottle as one of Augustine’s fancy imported waters. My vampire master wouldn’t waste something so fancy on me. I don’t know if I can tell the bear that.

  With a grunt, the bear pushes the water on me, and I don’t protest. I’m parched. The water is cool, almost sweet, and I drain the whole bottle.

  “He shouldn’t have left you,” the big man mutters. I gnaw my lip, studying him out of the corner of my eye so he won’t notice. He’s a big guy with a battered face and scars like I’ve never seen on a shifter before. His scent is large and in charge—a sign his bear is close to the surface, and super dominant.

  Despite the tension in his giant body, he smells…safe. My fox leans into the smell, savors it. Either she’s clueless, or she’s reading him as someone who will protect us. I really, really hope it’s the latter.

  “Is that why you took me?” I venture. “Because I was in the cage?”

  He glares at the road. Yellow eyes, glowing with his bear. “I’m taking you somewhere to clean you up and let you heal and rest.”

  I swallow. Not sanctioned then. Augustine won’t be pleased. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t blame me, or take out his displeasure on my ass.

  My captor gives me a sharp look as if he knows my thoughts. “You know Frangelico?”

  “Yes,” I whisper, shrinking in my seat at the name of the vampire king.

  “I work with him. He wants me to look into your master.”

  This doesn’t reassure me a bit, but I know better than to ask about the affairs of vampires. “Don’t you mean for him? You work for the vampire king?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “You said with.” Implying they were equals.

  “For, with, what the fuck difference does it make?” He shrugs. I should be frightened out of my mind that I’ve annoyed him, but instead I want to giggle. I duck my head to hide my grin behind the thin fall of my hair.

  If he notices my amusement, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead he brushes a big hand over my hair. I still, letting him pet me.

  “Red,” he says.

  “What?” I never question dominants, but I can’t help it. His tone was deep and growly, with a touch of something more. Reverence. Or longing.

  He doesn’t explain the ‘red’ comment. Instead he says, “I watched you last night.”

  “Oh.” I scan my memory of the past night’s events. My fox helpfully supplies what she noticed—a dark, brown gold shape just outside of the spotlight, waiting in the shadows. A big, strong presence. Safe. “I remember you. Or at least, my fox does. She likes you.”

  Something in his shoulders relaxes. “Good. I’m glad.”

  I want to ask where we’re going, but instead I yawn.

  “Sleep, kit,” he says. I love that he calls me by the name for a baby fox. It makes me feel babied. Protected. There’s a dominant push in his voice that’s impossible to disobey, even if I wanted to.

  “Okay.” I snuggle against the seat. The last thing I see is his big hand checking to make sure the heat vents are on and directing them toward me, then dropping to tug the blanket tighter around me.

  “Thank you,” I murmur. “Feels nice.”

  His bear rumbles again. Go to sleep. It says. I’m going to take care of you. Just relax and let go.

  So I do.

  Grizz

  Stupid. So fucking stupid.

  I’m not in the business of collecting liabilities. I’m a hunter. I learned my lessons young. A hunter never leaves tracks. Not if he’s hunting a predator, and I hunt the most dangerous predators in existence.

  But the second she dragged herself from the cage into my arms, she became too important to leave behind.

  Besides, she’s my best link to Augustine. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself, although how the hell I’m going to hunt a vampire when I have to babysit his pet fox, I have no idea. I wasn’t thinking when I stole her from the vampire’s home. Not with my head at least.

  The blanket slips off her shoulder and I can’t concentrate. I wonder how that creamy skin would feel under my lips. I’ll bet it’s so damn soft. I brush the back of my knuckles over it.

  Fuck—she’s chilly! I tug the blanket back over her. The heat is on full force in the cab, but the poor female’s body is small and frail. Damn vampire locking her up like that. She’s too fragile to handle that sort of neglect. Too pale, too thin.

  While I fiddle with the blanket like a girl with her dolly, the truck drifts outta its lane into the path of an eighteen wheeler. The driver honks and I bite back a roar. Don’t wanna wake my sleeping beauty. Instead, I glare at the driver with mad bear eyes.

  Fates, the kit isn’t even awake and the bear is fighting to protect her. Keep it up and she’s gonna think I’m her knight in shining armor. That’ll be a mistake. I’m no one’s hero.

  I don’t sit easy until
I pull into my hidden drive. My den is tucked into the side of a mountain. Nothing fancy, one of those nuclear bunker type places, except the side sticking outta the hill has a few windows. I don’t sleep exposed. Too dangerous. I learned that the hard way a couple hunts ago.

  When I crack open the truck door, my little fox doesn’t stir. The walk to the house is easy with such a light bundle. I stash her in my bedroom and my bear finally relaxes, seeing her tucked up tight in the dark, warm cave of my bed. She curls right up like she’s in animal form, her little fist resting against her lips. She wasn’t sleeping so deeply when I opened her cage, but then I remember—I gave her an order. A dominant push, without meaning to. I’m so used to being the biggest, baddest alpha around other dominant predators, I forgot to temper my power. She took my order to heart, like a good little submissive.

  What will she need when she wakes up?

  I head back into the kitchen. My last grocery run, I grabbed a couple bottles of orange juice. Must have been trying to look normal, add some basic items to my cart full of meat. I don’t really drink the stuff.

  A few minutes later, there’s a glass of juice waiting on the bedside table for when my guest wakes up. I unscrew two of the three light bulbs outta my bedside lamp and click it on, a sorta makeshift night light. In case she wakes up and gets scared.

  I stand at the foot of the bed and watch her sleep, barely daring to breathe. Her red hair fans out on the pillow, copper lashes rest on her porcelain skin. The beautiful fox looks good in my bed. Feels right.

  Her little nose scrunches. A toe twitches, dislodging the blanket. Immediately, I tuck the comforter more tightly around her.

  Fuck. I am so fucked.

  I get the hell outta there before I spend a half hour sitting beside her, watching her sleep. I knew my bear would fall for a girl one day. Never figured it’d be this bad.

  Back in the kitchen, I pull out a couple packs of meat from the freezer so they’ll be ready for breakfast. Or at the rate she’s sleeping, lunch. No worries, it does me good to see her resting like that.

  I could use some shut-eye, in a minute I’m gonna slip back in there and join her. First I gotta tie up some loose ends. I pull out my burner phone and dial a memorized number.

  “Jay-sus, Grizz, it’s before seven in the mornin’.” The chipper Irish accent has a murderous edge.

  I glance at the clock. “Seven’s not that early.”

  “It is if ya went tae bed three hours ago. We had a fight last night. Nix the Kid against this big bruisin’ gorilla brawler. Not as good as ya, but still, went twelve rounds—”

  I clear my throat as a signal that I’m interrupting. Declan will go on forever when he’s worked up, and his accent gets so thick I can’t understand him anyway. “Gotta job for you.”

  “What am I, a handyman?”

  “A favor then.”

  The Irishman sighs. “All right then.” He owes me more than a few.

  “I was on a job this morning, and I had to stash my bike and ‘borrow’ a truck. Need you to pick up my bike and meet me.”

  “Let me guess, we’ll take the truck in trade, while it’s hot.”

  “I’ll put new plates on it. You can take them off before you leave it for the cops.”

  “I know, I know, this isn’t my first rodeo. Fine. How soon do ya need it done?”

  Another glance at the clock to calculate sleeping time, waking time, making breakfast. “Four-thirty. Fight Club.”

  Declan sucks in a breath. “Is that wise? Word on the street is the wolves consider you their enemy.”

  The wolves. Sooner or later I’m going to have to deal with them. “I’m not. Not unless they make one of me. And they don’t wanna do that.” Trey might, but his alpha, Garrett, is smarter.

  “Word on the street is you’re working for the vampires. Not just any vampire. The king of the vampires.”

  I growl in answer. I don’t like people knowing my business.

  “Is it true? You’re employed by the king?”

  “The king and I have an arrangement,” I tell him. I don’t know why—I don’t answer to him. But I need Declan as an ally.

  “The wolves aren’t likin’ it,” Declan goes on lecturing me about vampire/shifter politics. “The treaty’s still new but some shifters feel you’ve chosen sides. And anyone sidin’ with the vampires isn’t tae be trusted—”

  “You gonna meet me at the Fight Club or not?”

  Silence.

  “Declan…”

  “Sure, sure. I’ll see ya then. Keep your panties on.”

  I growl again and hang up. Head to the door to lock up and check my security system. Vampires don’t hunt during the day, but they have money and money buys lackeys. When I’m satisfied everything’s locked down tight, I head back to bed. Day’s shaping up to be full, even without dealing with my rescue. The thought of her makes me soften, and I tread lighter so I won’t wake her. I’m not gonna touch her, just lie beside her.

  But when I get to my bedroom, the blankets are on the floor. The glass of juice is drained, empty like my bed. My fox is gone.

  Chapter 3

  Jordy

  I crouch behind the blue truck, holding my breath. When I woke, I was so disoriented, I thought I had crawled out of my cage and lain down on a bed in my master’s house. I was up and out from under the covers like they burned me. No telling what Augustine would do if he caught me taking luxuries he didn’t dole out. He’s not bad as far as masters go, but he definitely likes complete control.

  The big male who took me away on the other hand…I don’t know what he wants. He was there in the club. And later, in the house, his footsteps approached slowly while I shivered in the cage. The heat of his anger washed over me and my fox reacted the opposite of how she felt when faced with other angry dominants. Submissive, not fearful, but free and easy, as if his anger was a warm den I could curl up in and hide.

  Then I literally woke up in his den. Master Augustine will loan me out, share me, send me as a package to stay overnight with someone he wants to reward—but all those times were with vampires. Even the time when—

  Don’t think about that.

  Master Augustine never loaned me out to a shifter before. As far as I know, he disdains shifters, even though he owns one as his submissive. I shouldn’t be here. The longer I stay, the angrier my master will be. I have to go, no matter how good the bear makes me feel.

  I’m not just worried about punishment at the hands of my master now. I’m worried about my life. Augustine is to be feared, especially when he believes he’s been betrayed.

  And then there’s what the big bear said on the phone a second before I snuck past: The king and I have an arrangement. That should be enough reason to leave. No shifter tangles with a vampire and wins, but this guy sounds like he’s struck a bargain with one. If there ever was a sign I should skedaddle, that’d be it. I can’t get involved with vampire turf wars. My master won’t like it. I’ve got to get back to him and explain what happened. I’m not even sure what happened, but maybe on my way back I can think of something.

  I peer over the truck bed back at the house. It looks like a long box, one half stuck in the mountain and dark as a basement, the other half—the kitchen and large living room sticking out of the red rock. Big picture windows and a stunning view. Light, lots of it. I noticed as I was leaving. I even thought I wouldn’t mind claiming it as a den.

  My fox is stalling.

  I just have to take off down the long drive, except that’d be the most obvious escape route.

  Maybe I can climb down the mountain. I go to the edge and look over all the red stone. My fox might blend right in.

  I take a step and a big hand closes on my nape.

  “Gotcha,” the bear growls. He moves quiet for such a big guy.

  My body jerks once, my feet scrambling uselessly. The big man turns me to face him, clamping me to his hard body and I go limp. All the fight goes out of me, submission so programmed into me I
hardly know how to resist. But if truth be told, I’m relieved to be caught. I’d rather be enslaved to this grizzly bear than with a cold, punitive Augustine any day. Not that I think he’s enslaving me. There’s way too much kindness in him for that. He believes he’s protecting me, helping me. He just doesn’t know how ruthless Augustine can be. What he’ll do when he gets me back.

  “That’s right,” his deep, delicious voice rumbles in my ears. “No running. Not from me.”

  He throws me over his shoulder and I remain limp, arms hang down as he strides away from the overlook’s edge. I’m eye level with his behind, and boy, is it a nice one. I probably shouldn’t be checking out my captor, but his backside and thighs fill out his ripped up jeans perfectly.

  He carries me across the parking lot, past his big shiny truck and into his house. “No use trying to escape. You’re gonna be with me awhile.”

  Okay, maybe I am his slave now. And that shouldn’t make me so terribly excited.

  I wait for him to drop me to the floor and punish me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he tromps down the hall, stopping a moment. A thud and his boots hit the floor. He took the time to toe them off. He strides to the room where I woke up and lays me on the bed.

  He leaves a moment and I lie there, blinking at the low ceiling. I realize I’m toying with my collar, and I lower my hand.

  A few minutes and he returns, shutting the door to close us in a warm, dark cocoon. Automatically my head tips back and I show my throat, acknowledging him as dominant. It’s always nerve-wracking to expose my throat to an apex predator, but I have to do it. Instinct is a bitch. With any luck this will appease him. In a perfect world, the submissive act is one of ultimate trust. I expose my neck, the ultimate show of faith. Offering my life if he wants to take it. I should be more afraid than I am, but something about him soothes my fox. In a perfect world, a dominant protects the weak. Maybe this one will protect me.

  A hiss of indrawn breath and strong fingers wrap around my chin. “What is this?” A rough thumb traces my shivering pulse. His anger vibrates through me, but somehow my fox knows it’s not directed at me. I lie docile in his grip, obedient when he tips my face up to meet his blazing eyes. He’s close to shifting.