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“You’ve—”
“It won’t be pretty, but I can do it,” I said over Declan. “Give me permission, Raven.”
“Okay,” Raven whispered. The gravel and grit in her voice made the single word barely discernible as she rapidly lost the battle against her wolf.
“Happy memory, Raven, happy memory,” I repeated. I hauled Declan back with me as fur rippled across her skin. “And we’re out of time. Back up, back up, back up. Cade, keep her distracted!”
If he heard me, I didn’t have a clue. He shifted fast, tail rigid and dusty blond fur ruffled.
“What the fuck do I do?” Declan asked.
“Don’t get killed and keep her occupied,” I said. “I need to get my shit from my Jeep.”
“What shit?”
“You wanted to know what the fuck I do for a living? You’re about to find out.”
As Raven’s wolf ripped its way to the surface, I took off across the yard at a dead sprint. Thank fuck, I had my Jeep. I would’ve been fucked otherwise.
Snarling, growling, and more angry fucking sounds erupted behind me. I could only imagine what the fuck was happening. I’d parked near the end of the drive, and I skidded around the side.
The thing about my job was I fucking lied. To everyone. Bounty hunter? Sure. But only every once in a blue moon when I wanted to make some fast cash. Catching humans was a fucking piece of cake.
My real job dealt with rogue shifters and magical creatures—the kind of shit the humans didn’t know about and couldn’t hunt. The kind that targeted humans and used their monstrous side as a weapon. Me? I was damn good at tracking them down and taking them in. Ruthless. But I was also fucking equipped like no other—that did more for me than my personality ever did.
I yanked up the floor of the backseat to reveal a stash of carefully curated weapons and gear. I only had fucking minutes to get what I needed.
Bite-proof shirt and gloves? Check.
I’d have to leave the pants. Stripping out of my shirt was about all I had time for.
Snout-guard? Got it.
Magical sizing catch-all noose? Probably a smart fucking idea.
Electrical additive for my gloves? Yeah, I’d need those.
Dig-ins for my boots? After being tossed by a fucking bear, those were a goddamn necessity.
No gun. I couldn’t do that shit to Raven.
But a knife? Magical and guaranteed to never kill?
I wasn’t about to leave my fucking baby behind. The last thing I wanted to do was stab her, but if I had to, I wouldn’t hesitate. Stab wounds healed. Death was fucking permanent.
A loud snap and painful howl was my cue. Hopefully, I didn’t fucking need anything else. Everything had its place in my utility belt, making it easy to stash them. I slammed my door shut and ran like hell.
Cade was down—how injured was something I couldn’t think about. Declan had shifted and was doing his fucking best to keep her distracted.
It. Keep it distracted.
That distinction needed to be very fucking clear in my head. This wasn’t Raven I was dealing with. It was a feral shifter—deadly, vicious, and sorely outweighing the rest of us.
That thought made my blood run hot, adrenaline and excitement blending together. I fucking loved every second of hunting. The rush it gave me was indescribable.
Sam stood on the porch, syringe in hand. There was no fucking way I could hold it and subdue the wolf. Too much shit at once.
“Be ready to run that to me!” I ordered as I sprinted past and hoped to fuck that he heard me.
