Connor ignored the mountain lion and continued to hunt for any trace of the shooter. A piece of clothing, shell casings, anything. For a couple of hours, he and his friends circled the area but found nothing other than stale scents. A light dusting of snow had already fallen, and any remaining scents had already faded. Connor hated to return emptyhanded, but he wasn’t sure he had a choice.
In front of the last cave, he shifted and whistled to his friends. Ryland was first through the trees, his enormous bear brushing against the large ferns at their bases. As it walked into the clearing, its paws crushed the undergrowth. Jani’s tiger was right behind him. It made almost no noise, stalking as if it had been born to the task. They both shifted.
“I found nothing,” said Jani.
Ry shook his head. “Same here. The bastard covered his tracks.”
In frustration, Connor banged his hand against the cave opening. “Fuck.”
“Connor,” said Ryland. “We’ll find him. I’ve already told the police everything that happened. They’re stepping up their own patrols on the mainland, and I’ve asked Drew to send me some shifter officers to hang out on the island for the next while. If thesehuntersput even one wrong foot forward, we’ll get them.”
Connor paced in front of the cave, kicking up some of the snow at his bare feet. He didn’t even care that his skin was pink. He was too angry to feel cold. “I just wanted to be able to give Elaine some assurance. She’s been doing better lately. I don’t want her to have a setback.”
“She won’t,” said Ryland.
“I can’t explain it, guys,” said Connor. “I don’t like this. My cat is in turmoil. It keeps telling me to protect Elaine, that she’s in danger. And this isn’t just me being overprotective toward a friend. Something’s wrong. I just don’t know how to connect the dots.”
He paced a few more feet, and a new scent reached his nostrils. It was faint, but his feline senses honed in on it. It was coming from under his feet. He stopped walking and inhaled. The others did the same, gathering around him.
“I smell it too,” said Jani.
“Gunpowder residue,” said Connor.
Ryland crouched at Connor’s feet, breathing in and out. “And something else.” He dug in the snow and produced what looked like a torn piece of beige fabric. He looked up. “I know the scent attached to this. It belongs to one of my waiters. John Page.”
John Page. Connor swirled the name around in his mouth.
It tasted like betrayal.
“Where does he live?” Connor seethed.
Ryland stood and shook his head. “Oh, no, my friend. I won’t have you running off like some half-cocked vigilante. If John is involved, the police need to talk to him.”
“Ry…”
“It’s not up to me,” said Jani, “but I think you should tell Connor where the little fuck lives. Nothing wrong with a little vigilante justice. It’s all some people understand.”
Ryland made a face. “Look, John hasn’t been a model employee, but he’s still on my team. If he’s involved, I guarantee he’s not the brains of this operation. Sure, we could take him out tonight, but it wouldn’t solve the problem. Another hunter could show up tomorrow. We have no clue how big this thing is.”
“But—”
“Connor, I get it. If someone wanted to hurt Lia, you’d have to hold me back too. But let’s do this right. I’ll head back to the office and pull up John’s personnel file. He lives on the mainland, if I’m not mistaken. I’ll get the police to pay him a surprise visit. He might be able to tell us who runs the show.”
Although Connor’s inner predator preferred to go after John Page itself, Connor agreed with Ryland. If Page was indeed part of an illegal hunting operation, there were others involved.
They would all pay.
