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Authors: Kris Norris

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BOOK: Snared
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His concern escalated when he skidded to a halt as Rogan stopped suddenly at the next bend. Quinn bit back the curse poised on his tongue and eased forward, joining his friend at a large tree. He didn’t speak. He’d known Rogan long enough he could read the man’s body language.

Rogan barred his way, motioning at a series of boulders fifty yards off across a small clearing. Quinn scanned the area, finally noting two dark silhouettes moving through the tree line before ducking behind the rocks. He nodded and pointed at a copse off to their right. Though it’d be risky covering the open space to reach the patch of bushes, it’d give them a clear view of the rocks once they reached it.

Rogan grimaced but nodded, mouthing the countdown. When he reached one, they both ran, racing for the small thicket just as the sky opened up and rain pelted the ground. They ducked into the underbrush, water soaking through their shirts. Thunder roared overhead, followed by a streak of light. Quinn bit back a growl. Now was not the time for another thunderstorm.

“This storm is going to ruin everything.” Rogan turned to him, wiping his hand across his face. “The lightning’s going to set us off like a firecracker.”

“At least they can’t hide any better than us.” Quinn clenched his jaw when another round of thunder rolled above them. “But I agree. This couldn’t get much worse.”

Rogan glanced over at the rocks, squinting against the rain. “You know I want to catch these creeps as much as you do, but…” He looked back at Quinn. “It’s not worth making some poor decisions over. We’ll get another chance, and I have a feeling these guys aren’t going to come along quietly.”

“No kidding.” Quinn sighed. “Sorry. I just hate getting beaten. But you’re right. They’ve got at least one rifle between them…maybe more. Considering the charges we can levy against them, it wouldn’t surprise me if they took this pursuit up a notch.”

Rogan nodded, but Quinn saw determination set his jaw.

Rogan looked at the boulders again. “Poaching is one thing. Taking a shot at us is something else. How about we try one last push—cut them off at that outcrop and see if they’ll come to their senses. If not, at least we’ve got some cover.”

Quinn shrugged. “You’re the guy with the plan. Lead on. Just be careful. You’re much too heavy to have to drag out of here.”

Rogan slapped him across the shoulder before taking one last look at where the men had taken refuge. He motioned forward with his hand as he sprinted up the edge of the clearing, ducking into the forest near the rocky wall. Quinn followed close behind, his heart hammering in his chest as he pulled in behind Rogan. While Quinn thrived on the chase, knowing things could turn deadly left a lump in his chest. He’d only ever had to pull his weapon once, and he’d hoped to never have to repeat that scenario. Yet, he had a bad feeling these men were far more desperate than Rogan thought.

“Well, this is it.” Rogan palmed the handle of his gun, but didn’t draw it. “Once we jump out and ask them to play nice, there won’t be any turning back.”

“Then let’s make sure we do this right.” Quinn matched Rogan’s stance, wrapping his left hand around his weapon. “Ready?”

They moved as one, stepping out from behind the rock, hoping a streak of lightning didn’t give them away before they were ready. They moved with steady determination, leaving room to dive back if the situation changed. One of the men had his back pressed into the largest boulder, but the other had seemingly disappeared.

Quinn halted and scoured the area. He’d clearly seen both men move behind the rocks, and not knowing where the second poacher was didn’t sit well with him. A branch cracked off to his left, and he turned, drawing his gun only to dive for cover as the end of a rifle poked out behind one of the rocks. Rogan shouted in the distance, and Quinn turned to see his friend rolling behind a tree on the opposite side. A loud blast sounded above the thunder, and Quinn heard the bullet ricochet off a rock far too close for comfort. He growled and cocked his gun when the telltale roar of a wild cat echoed in the sudden stillness.

He pushed to one knee, still half-hidden behind a rock, his gaze snared by the lithe movement of a bobcat as it leaped across the boulders, landing square on the shooter’s back. The force of the blow took both the man and the cat to the ground. The poacher let out a strangled cry as the cat landed gracefully beside him, turning instantly and sinking its teeth into his arm. The man dropped the rifle and pulled against the cat’s hold. The bobcat growled before releasing its grip and standing over the gun. It hissed, baring its teeth as the fur rose along its back.

The poacher cradled his arm against his chest as he stared at the bobcat for one long moment before backing up and disappearing into the encroaching forest. Quinn pushed to his feet, glancing over at Rogan as the man did the same, his gaze focused on the cat. Quinn looked back, stunned by the sudden turn of events. He took a step forward and the bobcat looked back at them, its green eyes glowing in the rising moonlight. He stopped, unsure of what to do next.

Rogan moved in beside him, his confusion clearly etched on his face. “What the hell just happened?”

“You mean besides the bad guys getting away?” Quinn shook his head, still staring at those jade eyes. “I know it sounds crazy, but I think this cat just saved our lives.”

“If you think that sounds crazy, then you’re gonna love it when I tell you that I’m pretty damn sure it’s the same cat we saw by those tripped snares a few days ago.”

“The same cat—”

“See the markings…they’re way too similar to chalk up to coincidence.” Rogan shook his head. “I just don’t get it. It’s almost as if it knows us…that it’s following us.”

Quinn sighed, not sure if Rogan’s observation relieved him or scared the hell out of him. He studied the animal, wondering why it was just standing there staring at them with the poacher’s rifle poised beneath it when the sound of a diesel engine drifted to them on the wind.

Quinn turned to Rogan, pointing through the trees where the moonlight illuminated another clearing. “That must be their truck. If we hurry, we might get the license number.”

“What about the bobcat?”

Quinn gave Rogan his signature look. “It’s free to follow us, I guess.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Rogan grunted. “You’re right. Let’s get those bastards. We can figure this out later.”

Quinn nodded and gave the cat one last glance before rushing up the small incline toward the humming sound. Just their luck the rising moon was nearly full, lighting the way like a beacon. He crested the hill just as a truck tore down a small, dirt trail, nothing more than a splattering of mud discernable on the tailgate.

“Damn it!” He kicked at the mud. “After all that—nothing.”

Rogan’s heavy breathing sounded beside him as the man pulled up short, staring at the retreating vehicle. He grunted and patted Quinn on the shoulder. “Can’t win them all.”

Quinn started to speak when a dark blur dashed past them. He grabbed Rogan’s arm, not sure if he’d gone completely crazy. “What the?” He blinked. “Please tell me I didn’t just see that bobcat run by.”

“I swear it’s chasing that truck.” Rogan grabbed Quinn’s shirt and tugged. “Come on. There’s something weird going on and we’re going to get to the bottom of it.”

Quinn followed Rogan as the man ran up the trail, veering off to his left when the cat disappeared down a small path. He didn’t know how his buddy tracked the animal with only the moonlight to guide him, but Rogan stayed on its trail, dodging left and right as if he could sense the cat’s movements. Quinn was just about to tell Rogan to stop when a loud snap sounded ahead of them followed by the roar of a cat.

The men raced to the next opening, stopping short. Before them, a large net swung in the steady wind, bouncing on a rope tied to a high branch. Inside the woven prison, the bobcat hissed, chewing unsuccessfully at the squares. Quinn stared at the illegal contraption, a sinking feeling twisting his gut. While the animal was likely unharmed, there wasn’t a safe way to release it without using the tranq gun.

Rogan kicked at the mud. “Damn it. Not only did those jackasses get away, but their bloody trap just snared our kitty.” He turned to Quinn. “You know there’s only one way to get her free.”

“It’s not like we haven’t tranquilized animals before, buddy.”

“Maybe not. But somehow this feels…”

“Wrong,” said Quinn.

“Disloyal.”

Quinn scoffed and wiped the rain from his eyes. “It’s an animal, not a pet.”

“But it saved our butts back there.” Rogan sighed. “I know it sounds silly, but…I just wish there was another option.”

Quinn patted Rogan on the back before unholstering his tranq gun. “It’ll be fine. I’ll only use enough juice to give us time to get her out of the tree and safely out of sight in one of the caves we passed. She’ll wake up and head home as if nothing happened.”

Rogan nodded, but Quinn could tell the man was still hesitant. Though he’d never admit it, he felt the same way. Something about this animal seemed different—as if he knew it.

Quinn shook the thought from his head as he aimed and fired. The dart hit the bobcat square in the flank. The animal roared and increased its efforts on the rope, only to gradually slow down until its head finally went limp. Quinn sighed and took a step closer when his mouth hinged open in shock. He grabbed Rogan’s arm, pointing at the net as the cat began to change. Strange popping sounds drifted along the wind as the animal’s legs twitched in its sleep, transforming from paws into feet as the fur receded, leaving behind silky-looking skin.

Rogan breathed in sharply, his voice higher than usual. “Holy fuck. Please tell me you saw that.”

He didn’t wait for Quinn to answer as he ran to the net, spinning it around until a familiar face gleamed in the moonlight. Quinn inhaled roughly as Rogan stepped back, seemingly speechless. It wasn’t until a small moan escaped perfectly sculpted lips that Quinn found his voice.

“Tayen.”

It was all he could say…all that needed saying. He stumbled forward, tracing a finger along her jaw as he reached the netting. Her skin felt cool and soft, like a river rock smoothed by the water. Questions swirled in his head, but he didn’t even know where to begin.

Rogan stood beside him, twirling a lock of hair around his finger. “This explains a lot…and nothing at the same time.” He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “My grandparents used to tell us stories about shape-shifters…but shit. I never thought they really existed.” He turned to Quinn. “Damn, do you think this means Bigfoot is real, too?”

“Only you could find humor in this.”

“At least now we know how all those traps got tripped, and why she didn’t want to go out with us.”

“We’re just assuming…” Quinn waved his hand at the net. “
This
…has something to do with it. We can’t be certain.”

“I’m certain of one thing. Our little kitten here has some major talking to do once she wakes up.” He nudged Quinn. “I have a feeling this is going to take all night. Best we get her back to our place before she has a chance to run off.”

“Oh, she’s not going anywhere until we get some straight answers.” He smiled. “I’d say her running days are over…in more ways than one.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

Tayen moaned, rolling to her side as she struggled to open her eyes. Her head felt heavy and it took several tries before she was able to push onto her elbow and gaze at her surroundings. Though she’d never seen this particular room before, she knew exactly where she was. The place was infused with Quinn’s scent. It practically hung in the air like a sensuous fog, and it was all she could do not to stay there, endlessly inhaling the erotic aroma. But it wasn’t only Quinn’s fragrance she smelled. Rogan’s was entwined through the room, and while it was more diffused than Quinn’s, it had the same affect. Her body heated in response, making her acutely aware that she was naked below the sheets.

She pulled at the blanket, trying to remember how the hell she’d gotten there. Images blurred with flashes of light and rolls of thunder as she tried to shuffle the memories hanging just out of reach. She replayed the previous night—the boys asking her to dinner, the emergency call that had left her both relieved and disappointed, the radio blaring in the stillness, the poacher taking a shot at Quinn…

Tayen bolted to her feet, not caring when the sheet billowed to the floor, pooling at her feet in a sea of white cotton. Now she understood why she was there, and why the only thing she was wearing was the worried furrow on her brow. In her haste to get the boys off her trail, she’d gotten snared by a poacher’s net. And with the men only moments behind her, there hadn’t been enough time to shift back before they’d burst into the small clearing. Then Quinn had taken it upon himself to become her savior, except that the tranq dart had resulted in her changing back…in front of both of them.

Her stomach rolled at the thought. While she knew she’d have to share her secret with them if she ever hoped to take their relationship a step further, having it happen in the middle of a thunderstorm while trapped in a net hadn’t exactly been the reveal she’d been hoping for. She sighed, not sure if she should be angry or scared.

BOOK: Snared
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