side. “Whose car is it?”
“Dutchy’s.”
“Dutchy? But how?”
Blood roared in his ears as his bear reared up. Something was definitely wrong. What could have happened? Think. “This morning, she—” Then he remembered. “J.D. had her car. Fixed up a leak for her and rotated her tires, then was going to bring it by this morning.” This morning. After their huge blowup. And now …
“Krieg? You all right?”
She’d been so mad at him.
Asked him to leave.
But why was her car here?
He swallowed hard, ice forming in his stomach. “She came up here … to see me.” Despite his hurtful words and his refusal to open up to her, she was coming to him. But she never made it.
“Where is she, then?” Milos asked. “Why would she come up here to see you, then abandon her car when she got stuck? Couldn’t she have walked up the road to your cabin? From the faintness of their scents, they’ve been gone for hours.”
“I don’t know.” Krieger curled his fingers into fists. “But I’m gonna find out.” And if someone had taken her—hurt her—they were going to pay.
“I’m gonna call HQ,” Damon said. “Have them call her or her aunts to see if she’s made it back. J.D., too.”
“You do that,” Krieger said. “But I’m gonna search the area.”
“I shall join you as well,” Milos said.
“I—fine, I’m not gonna argue,” Damon said, resigned. “If it were Anna Victoria, I’d do the same. Stay safe, and if you find anything you can’t handle, come back. We’ll call for—”
A loud rustling made all three men tense up. They looked at each in silent communication, their animals ready for a fight as they all turned toward the direction of the sound. Slowly, they crept toward the bushes, watching and waiting for whatever would come out.
Meow!
A small, furry ball leapt out from the foliage, headed straight for Damon. “What—oh hey!” The chief easily caught the creature. “It’s you,” he said, chuckling. He lifted the thing up and stared into its face. “I was so worried about you. Where have you been?”
“Damon?” Krieger frowned. “You know this”—he squinted at the thing as it was so tiny—“cat?”
The creature glared at him, light hazel eyes flashing, then let out a hiss.
“Shh … don’t be like that,” Damon tucked the fur ball into the crook of his arm. “Sorry. She’s sensitive about her animal.”
“Who’s sensitive?” Krieger exclaimed, losing his patience.
“This is—ow!” Damon cried out as the cat dug its claws into his arm. “Well, if you’re going to be like that, fine.” Placing the cat on the ground, he took his shirt off and lay it next to the creature. “Turn around,” he ordered Milos and Krieger.
“But—”
“Just do it, okay?”
Milos and Krieger looked at each other, shrugged, and did as Damon asked. Seconds later, a familiar voice broke the silence of the night.
“Krieger, you overgrown teddy bear!” J.D. screamed. “How dare you call me a fucking cat!”
Whirling around, he stared at her, not quite believing it, even though he’d seen it.
“Now, now, J.D.,” Damon began. “You know not everyone knows what you are.”
“What are you then?” Krieger asked. Because she sure looked like a fucking cat.
“FYI”—J.D., dressed only in Damon’s shirt that came down to her knees, sauntered over to him, hand on her hips—“my animal is felis nigripes. Also known as—”
“The African black-footed cat,” Milos finished.
“Thank you,” J.D. said with a grateful nod.
“So … you are a cat,” Krieger concluded.
J.D.’s face twisted in annoyance, and she let out a snarl. “Don’t you know anything? My animal is the deadliest feline in the world. Sixty percent success rate, averaging ten to fifteen prey a night. That’s one every fifty minutes.”
“One what? Cricket?”
“Why you—” J.D. leapt at him, but Damon quickly wrapped his arm around her waist and swung her back.
“J.D.,” Damon warned. “Stop. What the hell are you doing up here prowling around in your animal form anyway? And where’s Dutchy?”
J.D. stopped struggling and wrenched herself from Damon’s arms. “Fuck! Sorry. Got distracted.” She lifted her head up to meet Krieger’s eyes. “They have her locked up.”
“Who?” Krieger’s voice boomed as rage tore through him. “Who has her?”
J.D. quickly recounted what happened to them and what they had discovered about the poachers, confirming Milos’s theory that the disappearances were indeed connected. “I tried to get her out,” she said with a sniff. “But the door was locked and too heavy. She said I needed to come here and get help.”
“Goddammit, I’m gonna kill all of them if they hurt her,” Krieger growled. His