After Carlos had left with his foot soldier, Mia wriggled against her restraints in a further attempt at escape. The coarse ropes dug into her wrists and ankles, leaving what she was sure from the pain would be more angry red welts. With every ounce of her strength, she attempted to morph into her leopard form, but the restrictive ropes made the shift unbearable. The sensation was like fire against her skin, a raw, tearing pain that quickly overwhelmed her resolve. Halfway through, she was forced to revert, gasping in agony and frustration.
She was still breathing heavily, exhausted from her effort, when the door creaked open, casting a slice of light into the room and revealing two guards. Their faces were set in stern lines, eyes devoid of any empathy. They untied her, but their touch was rough and hurried, making her wince.
They led her down a narrow corridor that was dark and stuffy and the sound of cockroaches scuttling about her feet sent shivers down her spine. The smell of mustiness, of old wood and stagnant water, permeated the air. She could feel the grit underfoot, and every step was a reminder of her captivity.
Finally, they ushered her into a tiny windowless bathroom. The space was stifling, and the single flickering bulb barely provided enough light to see. A moldy scent hung heavily, and the clank of the toilet’s old chain echoed in her ears.
As she emerged, a desperate plan formed in her mind. As she opened the door to step back out, her instincts kicked in, and she launched herself at one of the men, punching frantically. But they were prepared, likely having dealt with numerous escapeattempts before. The two of them quickly overpowered her. The punches she took to subdue her were painful. When her lip split, she tasted the sharp metallic tang of blood, and a sharp pain radiated from her eye, which quickly started to swell.
Dragged roughly back into the main room of the warehouse, Mia felt a mix of despair and anger. But she also felt determination. She would get out of this situation somehow. She refused to be held captive for much longer—regardless of what the attempt cost her. She knew that Carlos had no intention of letting her go anyway, especially when he realized that her father didn’t care enough to come for her.
The damp corridor felt longer on the way back. With each step Mia took, the more the weight of her captivity pressed on her shoulders. The air grew tense, thick with anticipation.
The taller guard, who had a deep angry scar running down his cheek, glanced at her. “Behave,” he growled, his heavily accented voice a gravelly warning.
She met his gaze defiantly, her eyes glittering with a mix of fear and determination. “Why are you doing this? Do you even know who I am? Do you even care?”
The other guard, stocky with dark eyes that seemed to constantly evaluate her, smirked. “We know exactly who you are, little leopard.”
Without pause for thought, Mia moved, and the suddenness of her attack caught even her by surprise. Lunging at the taller one, she aimed a knee at his groin. But he deftly sidestepped, his smirk growing more pronounced.
She wasn’t done yet. Twisting swiftly, she aimed a punch at the stocky guard’s nose. There was a satisfying crunch, and he staggered back, cursing.
But her moment on triumph was short-lived. The taller guard lunged at her from behind, grabbing her arms and pinning them. She struggled, using her legs to kick out, but he was too strong. The stocky guard recovered quickly, his face contorted in rage. He landed a hard blow to her face that caught her in the same eye he’d hit earlier. Pain exploded through her senses, and she cried out.
“Enough!” the taller guard snapped, his grip like iron on her arms. He pushed her further into the room, his voice dripping with menace. “Try that a third time, and your punishment will be worse.”
As they threw her back onto the chair, she gasped for breath. Her lips trembled, not from fear, but from the effort to hold back a growl. She’d lost this fight, but her spirit was far from broken. They retied the ropes at his wrists and feet and then left her alone with her angry thoughts.
Mia had only intended to take a few minutes to recover from her exertion and for the injuries she had sustained to stop throbbing before she attempted her next escape, but she must have nodded off because when she opened her eyes, the warehouse was flooded with daylight. How long had she been asleep?
She moved her wrists, pleased to note that although still a little sore, they no longer felt as if they’d been scrubbed with sandpaper and when she scrunched up her face, it was only mildly painful. The eye which had been swollen shut had healed somewhat too, enough that she could see clearly out of it again.
Carlos’s silhouette darkened the doorway before he stepped into the swelteringly hot room. He watched Mia, a smirk playing on his lips, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
“Your father will be here soon,” he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement.
Mia furrowed her brow, confusion clouding her mind. “What are you talking about?”
He leaned in, his face inches from hers, the smell of stale tobacco clinging to his breath. “He’s agreed to the trade.”
Shock reverberated through Mia. The idea that her father, the distant and cold Ethan, would risk himself for her was unimaginable. It was...impossible. But then another thought struck her, and clarity rushed in. Her father wouldn’t come for her. But someone else would.
It had to be Max. Mia’s heart raced. Max was alive. The thought brought a flood of relief, momentarily overpowering her fear. But that relief was replaced by dread as Carlos continued.
“Now that he’s close by,” Carlos sneered, drawing out his words, “I guess we don’t need you anymore.” He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in. “We only needed you for proof of life to lure him out here. But now,” he mused, pulling out a sleek, black pistol, “you’re disposable.”
The cold metal glinted ominously in the dim light. Every instinct in Mia screamed at her to fight, to run, but the ropes held her firmly in place. Her leopard roared inside her, urging her to shift and attack, but she’d tried once and the ropes had made it impossible. Her skin prickled, and her senses heightened—the musty smell of the warehouse, the noises from the rainforest outside. The room, her world, seemed to narrow down to just the gun and the man wielding it.
Chapter Seventeen
Max
The flight toChichén Itzá from San Antonio on Ethan Johnson’s private jet had been painfully long. Max had spent the entire journey staring out of the window, his stomach twisted into knots. If the cartel members had harmed a single hair on his mate’s head, he was going to personally tear every last one of them to shreds.
Several cartels were in dispute over the Yucatan Peninsula. Generally, the area was safe for tourists, but Max and his fellow CIA officers were headed directly into cartel territory. The Yucatan’s geographical location made it an ideal strategic area for both drug and human trafficking coming from Central America, South America, and the Caribbean. Max had visited the area once during his time working for the CIA, but he had never ventured into the stomping ground of this particular cartel before. They were rumored to be the most brutal and deadly in the area.
Of the nearly five thousand wild jaguars that made their home in Mexico, it was thought that around eighteen hundred of their numbers lived in the Yucatan Peninsula. Max couldn’t help but wonder how many of those were jaguar shifters. He had been inside a couple of cartel territories before, he’d also been inside the territory of a myriad of terrorist cells in the middle east, but this was different. Not only were the stakes a hundred times higher because his mate was being held inside, but he could potentially be walking into a territory that housed dozens of men with very similar abilities to his own.
