her animal that huge that its bulk would break through metal? “Maybe you should take your clothes off first?”
“No need.” J.D. opened her mouth and let out a sharp hiss as her incisors elongated. Fur popped up on her face. Dutchy scooted away, closing her eyes to give J.D. some privacy. She waited for a deep roar. For powerful paws to slam on the ground. To her surprise, nothing happened. “Huh?” Opening her eyes, the only thing she saw was a heap of J.D.’s clothing in front of her. “What the—”
A small bump moved around from under J.D.’s shirt. It wiggled and twitched until something popped up from the neck—a small, feline head with tawny fur, a brown nose with white whiskers, and huge, light hazel eyes.
Dutchy blinked. “J.D.? You’re a cat?”
The animal hissed at her and shook its head.
Well, you sure look like a cat, she thought silently. J.D.’s animal—whatever it was—was about the size of a small domesticated cat. As it emerged from the pile of clothes, she could see the rest of its body was covered in irregular black spots, while stripes ringed around its neck and legs. It was such an unusual coloring for a cat, plus its tail was much shorter too.
J.D.’s animal sniffed around the bottom of the steel door. Flattening itself, the feline pushed its head through the small gap, then squirmed out.
Hope soared through her chest. “You did it!” Dutchy exclaimed. “That was amazing! Er … what are you?”
“No time to explain.” J.D. said through the door. “Shit!”
“What’s wrong?”
“This door … it’s built right into the stone. And there’s a lock. Fuck!”
Her stomach sank. “J.D. … you have to go.”
“Go? I can’t leave you! I’ll find the key and—”
“There’s no time,” she whispered. “They could come back and find you. Please. I’ll be fine.”
“If they realize I’m gone and you’re still here—”
“They won’t,” she insisted. “They said they won’t check on us until morning. You’ll be able to head back and get help by then.”
“But—”
“Please, J.D.! You know it’s the only way.”
The silence from the other side of the door lasted for a few heartbeats. “All right. You hang on tight, Dutchy. I’ll get help and come back for you.”
“I know you will.”
“And when I come and rescue you, we can go have drinks in The Den.” She could almost see J.D.’s smile. “You’re part of a very special club now.”
“I am?”
“Yeah,” she said with a chuckle. “The only ones who know that I’m a—”
“You can tell me later. At The Den,” she said. “Now go.”
“All righty. Sit tight, Dutch. I’ll bring the cavalry.”
“See you, J.D.”
Dutchy sank down to the ground and hugged her knees to herself. Oh God, please don’t let them come back before J.D. gets help.
Those men … she couldn’t believe they’d been hiding out here the entire time. And what for? Hunting down shifters and selling them? To whom? She shuddered to think of the fates of those three others they had already succeeded in capturing. And what they might do to her in the morning.
J.D. would come back with help. But then, the mountains were huge, and J.D. had never been this far up before. I have to be ready. She’d never had to fight before—but as a fox, she’d done plenty of play fighting with the other kits in her skulk.
Her vixen relished the idea of a fight as it licked its lips. She may not be a bear or a wolf or another apex predator, but she had bite. I’m not giving up so easily. No, not when she now had so much to live for. Her mate. She would go to Krieger, apologize for what happened, and tell him she loved him.
Chapter Seventeen
Krieger had never been the type of talk about his feelings with anyone. When Damon first started visiting him, it was mostly his former commander who did the talking. Krieger hadn’t felt the need to open up, but Damon’s presence and friendship had inspired him to change. And now, maybe the chief was right. It was time for him to lighten his burden.
“If she found out what happened … what I did to those two innocent men, she’ll never look at me the same way,” he said. Seeing as Damon didn’t have to go back home until after dinner, they cooked a couple of steaks and then sat out on the now-darkened porch, drinking the last of the beers from the fridge.
“She’s your mate,” Damon says. “She’ll understand.”
“But what if she doesn’t?