Chapter One
Isaac took one last look in the mirror hanging in his living room before he left to meet up with Danny. His best friend wanted to hang out at Frothy Pine tonight, a tavern filled with predatory shifters who might use Isaac as a snack, and not in a good way.
Even if it was, Isaac would come home alone, the running theme of his life over the past sixteen months.
He rubbed his sternum, the ache unbearable at times. How could he despise and crave someone in equal measure? It had been over three weeks since the last time he’d—
Stop!He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.Remember the reason. Ignore the ache.
His thoughts landed back in the present when the other side of his apartment door grew teeth. Metal scraped against metal in the lock, followed by a soft click that meant someone had gotten through the first deadbolt.
Backward steps carried Isaac toward his bedroom, each footfall measured against the creaking floorboards he’d memorized years ago. Left foot on the third plank from the wall. Silent. Right foot diagonal to avoid the loose board near the coffee table. His bedroom door stood open at the end of the hallway, fifteen feet that might as well have been fifteen miles.
Another scrape, but no soft click, which meant the second tumbler hadn’t given way. Yet.
Slipping into his bedroom, Isaac eased the door shut behind him. No time to grab anything. His phone was already tucked inside his back pocket. The window sat across the room, its frame painted shut last winter when the landlord had done his half-assed renovations.
Working his fingers under the sash, Isaac pulled upward. Paint cracked, loud as gunfire in the quiet apartment. He froze, listening. The scratching at the front door had stopped.
But a lifetime of survival kicked in. Gut instinct said he already knew who it was. It screamed for him to get ghost as quickly as possible.
Do not let them corner you. Do not trust anything they say. And for fuck’s sake, never, ever go back willingly.
Almost two years of freedom, and it was ending with a fucking lockpick ruining his Friday night plans.
Yanking harder, Isaac forced the window open with a grinding protest of wood against wood. Cool night air rushed in, carrying the smell of garbage from the dumpster below. Eighteen feet down to concrete. Not ideal, but better than getting caught by Whichello’s henchman.
One leg over the sill then the other and Isaac balanced on the narrow ledge. The fire escape was three windows over, too far to reach. Below, a narrow awning jutted out from the first-floor apartment. If he could drop onto it then roll to the edge...
A whispered squeak, but the door had definitely opened. Old wood never lied. Then a floorboard betrayed them, stepping on the same spots Isaac had carefully avoided. The loose board near the coffee table creaked loudly, someone moving through Isaac’s space like they belonged there.
Move. Now!
Isaac pushed off from the window with a half-assed prayer. Physics grabbed him by the ankles like,surprise, idiot. Air rushed past him for a heartbeat before his feet hit the awning. The aluminum groaned under his weight, but held. Momentum carried him forward, shoulder screaming, body rolling wrong. Gravity still clocked in.
“Really?” a familiar voice called from above. “The window? How very action movie of you.”
Marcus. One of Whichello’s favorite enforcers. Built like a brick shithouse with the personality to match.
Isaac scrambled to the edge of the awning and dropped the remaining eight feet to the alley. His knees buckled on impact, palms scraping against rough asphalt. Blood welled up from a dozen tiny cuts, but adrenaline kept the pain at bay.
“Whatever happened to basic manners?” he yelled toward his window where Marcus was leaning out. “A simple ‘hello, we’re here to kidnap you’ would’ve been appreciated.”
“We’re here to kidnap you.” Marcus rested his forearms on the sill. “Boss just wants to talk.”
Isaac didn’t want to hear anything Whichello had to say.
“Tell him to send a text like a normal person,” he hollered, already running toward the street. His beat-up Honda sat parked at the corner. The keys were still in his pocket.
Footsteps pounded behind him. Not just Marcus. At least two others, maybe three. Isaac’s red panda stirred under his skin, wanting to shift, to run faster than human legs could manage. But shifting in the middle of downtown would cause more problems than it solved.
Reaching his car, he fumbled with the keys. The lock clicked open just as a hand landed on his shoulder.
“Hey, beautiful,” another enforcer, this one named Dimitri, said. “Miss me?”
Isaac took a step back.
Strong fingers wrapped around his upper arm, not painful but definitely not a suggestion.
