Chapter 1
Two years later…
Heinrich Schleichender—Hank, to his American friends—started his final descent into Big Wolf Airport in Texas.
He hadn’t been able to come back this way for far too long.
The fact that he’d been given a mission by his Alpha that would take him through this part of the world for the next few weeks, perhaps months, made his beast half’s fur ripple with satisfaction.
He’d been trying to get back to Texas for the past two or three years, but circumstances had been against him.
With the rise of the Venifucus—an evil order of mages intent on destruction—Hank had been called on, time and time again, by his friend and Alpha, Mark Pepard, to spearhead investigations and negotiations all over the world.
That Hank was multi-lingual, one of the top pilots in the Clan, and a trusted associate of the leadership meant he was much in demand.
When a delicate touch was called for to set up sensitive deals, Hank was the go-to guy.
Clan business had kept him busy. So busy, in fact, that he hadn’t been able to get back to Texas at all… until now.
Hank had never been able to forget the woman he’d met here in Big Wolf, Texas—Tracy.
The Alpha wolf’s daughter. They’d spent one passionate night together before duty to his Clan had called him away.
Things had been in an uproar for a while in the Jaguar Clan led by billionaire Mark Pepard.
Hank had spent most of the last few years flying special missions for Mark, on behalf of the Clan.
This mission, in fact, was another one of those special tasks set for Hank by the Alpha.
He was to open negotiations with a small jaguar Clan based in Arizona, inviting them to take their place in the larger group that was centralizing operations on Jaguar Island.
Of special interest were two of the stronger Alphas in the Arizona group—a pair of fraternal twins who had Special Forces backgrounds and were currently working freelance as mercenaries.
Mark wanted their skills, and he wanted all the jaguars to know they had a place on the island, if they wanted it.
He’d been slowly reaching out to the family groups and Clans that remained after urbanization and drug wars had killed far too many of their people.
Mark had bought the island and secured it.
Now, he was bringing in more jaguars to make their homes there—safe from the dangers of the human world, while the Clan rebuilt its decimated numbers.
They could use more men with skills like Pax and Ari Rojas, along with the rest of their Clan members in Arizona. It was one of the larger groups, but it still wasn’t huge. They, too, had felt the impact of the drug wars that took out so many of their people.
As the drug cartels took over vast stretches of jungle, they pushed out the jaguars who had lived there.
At some point, with nowhere left to retreat, the jaguars tried to fight back, but their solitary lifestyles and the need for territory of their own had left them all too vulnerable.
No matter how strong a particular shifter or family group was, once a sufficiently large number of humans with automatic weapons arrived, they didn’t really stand a chance.
The story had repeated itself all over South America for decades.
Some survivors regrouped in the United States.
Some had been in the States all along. The Arizona group was a mix of native and immigrant populations, and it was Hank’s task to make it clear that all jaguars who served the Light were welcome on Jaguar Island.
Negotiations would be tricky, though. Cats were generally solitary and territorial.
Any family group that had stuck together the way the Arizona Clan had usually had large stretches of territory for each family member, so nobody felt crowded.
The Arizona Clan was of particular interest to Mark Pepard and the larger Jaguar Clan, though, because of those two soldier-of-fortune brothers.
Their skills and connections could come in very useful, if they could be persuaded to work for the good of the Jaguar people as a whole.
Which was Hank’s mission. It might take multiple trips out to Arizona.
Everyone knew cats were fickle, and it sometimes took a bit of time to convince them to do what you wanted them to do.
Nobody knew that better than another jaguar.
Hank had been chosen because he had Mark’s confidence, trust, and was known to be a careful, patient predator when he was on the stalk.
Pax and Ari Rojas might not realize it, but they were most definitely being stalked…for the good of their species.
“Clear for landing,” came the instruction from the Big Wolf Airport tower over Hank’s headset.
He was on approach, and it wouldn’t be long before he set down and taxied to his assigned parking space. Then, he’d arrange for refueling and stop for some lunch at the famous Big Wolf Barbeque restaurant near the airport. He couldn’t wait to get on the ground and see if maybe Tracy was around.
He would try to be casual, but the way his inner jaguar was sitting up in eagerness of the hunt was something he suddenly found hard to control.
His inner beast had never forgotten the pretty wolf woman, strange as that seemed.
His cat admired her and wanted to play with her wolf form.
Run and stalk, roll in the tall grass. Hank shook his head.
His cat had never found a playmate outside their own species before, but then again, his cat side was a lot more playful than most.
His Clan mates teased him about the way his cat form was always ready to play.
It wasn’t the norm for solitary cats, but it fit Hank’s unusually positive personality.
His family had gone through a lot of dark stuff in the past. Perhaps Hank’s sunny outlook was a result of that.
He couldn’t be sure. He hadn’t been alive for the wrong turns taken by some of his ancestors, but he’d decided early on that he could either live his life feeling ashamed of the decisions they’d made or forge a new path for himself, firmly on the side of Light.
He’d chosen the latter, and after initial hesitation, Mark Pepard had accepted him into the Clan.
Hank had proven himself, over and over again, until the last of Mark’s doubts had been erased.
Hank had the approval and confidence of the highest ranks in the Clan.
Anything others might still say about his ancestors might sting, but he knew who he was, and he wasn’t like them at all. Not one bit.
With a few more radio transmissions and a bit of maneuvering, Hank was on the ground at last. He parked the small plane where instructed and grabbed his duffel bag.
He had come prepared to bribe Tracy’s little brother with the latest video game, if necessary.
If not, he’d still give the kid the early release version everyone was clamoring for—that Hank had gotten before release through his contacts.
Kevin was a good kid. He deserved a treat, even if it turned out he wouldn’t help Hank stalk his sister.
But Hank had an idea where she might be.
The whole family worked either at the airport or the restaurant.
Their father was the Alpha and owner of the two very successful businesses, as well as being the mayor of the town the Pack had built around itself.
The Big Wolf Pack was employed in all the Pack businesses, particularly the Alpha’s family and inner circle, who tended to run things.
Last time Hank had checked—only a week ago—Tracy had been the general manager of the restaurant.
It was likely she’d be there, since it was around lunchtime on a weekday.
The place would be busy, but maybe she’d take a few minutes to talk to him.
That goal firmly in mind, Hank headed out of the airport and over to the restaurant.
*
“Em, honey, come back here,” Tracy called after her adventurous daughter, who was running off, yet again, pushing through the forest of people’s legs, in the front lobby of the restaurant. It was one of her favorite games, and the Pack indulged her a little too much, in Tracy’s opinion.
Emma’s little blonde pigtails bounced as she made her way forward.
She was an adorable baby. Fair skinned and with dark blonde hair that was a mix of her mother’s chestnut and her father’s golden blond.
But, only Tracy knew that little secret.
Nobody in the Pack knew who or what Emma’s father was, or what he looked like. Just Tracy.
Emma was out of sight, and Tracy sped up to catch her wayward two year old.
She spotted Em, stopped against the legs of a man, clinging to the poor fellow like a burr.
Thankfully, everyone present was Pack. At least, Tracy thought they were all shifters, if not all members of her Pack.
Though…there was a tantalizing new scent at the edge of her perception.
With all the wolves waiting to be seated—a party of fourteen had just come in from the airport and wanted to sit together—it was hard to discern the new shifter scent, but as Tracy drew nearer to her daughter, the scent became sharper.
It was familiar, somehow, and her inner wolf sat up from her lazy doze in Tracy’s mind and started to look around through Tracy’s eyes. Something was…
Sweet Mother of All.
The Pack members parted before her, clearing a path to her daughter, clinging to a man Tracy hadn’t seen in more than two years. Closer to three, actually.
Hank. The golden-haired sex god Tracy had never forgotten.
Her baby’s father.
The baby he didn’t know about.
Hank looked up, a happy smile on his face that he’d been giving her daughter when the crowd hushed. Their eyes met, and his smile got even bigger. He was pleased to see her, but would he be so pleased once he realized she was a mother and not free to play with him the way she had years ago?