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Chapter One
Frank Cole leaned against the door of his Border Patrol SUV waiting for an invisible witch.
It had been a long night, his knee ached up into his tailbone, and he hadn’t gone wolf in over a week. He needed to shift.
He’d gotten the call ten minutes ago from Lauren, but the last thing he wanted to do was set eyes on her again.
She’d said it was urgent.
He’d refused.
She’d begged.
He’d told her to forget it.
Then she’d told him the kidnap victim was a sixteen-year-old girl, taken off the front porch of her alter transition house. She’d only been in Five Bridges a month.
So, here he was with flashes of pain shooting up the back of his leg and spasming his lower back.
He’d chosen the meet-up spot to keep the conversation private, a place called Broken Bridge. He also didn’t want any of his fellow Border Patrol officers knowing he was seeing Lauren tonight. When he’d dated her for three months earlier in the year, few had approved his choice. There were more wolf-murders in witch territory than in any of the others.
The sky was clear in late June and the intense summer heat had arrived. But the air was dry as a bone in Phoenix because the monsoon season hadn’t yet begun. The weather was balmy so late at night.
His patrol shift was over and he still had a couple of hours before dawn. He had time to help Lauren out, but he o
nly said he’d listen to her. However, the thought of being this close to her again chapped his hide. He’d broken with her two months ago and had promised himself he’d never see her again.
A breeze blew across the wasteland behind him, a place called the Graveyard. The wind came from the east, and carried the scents of desert and death.
The Graveyard was located in the center of Five Bridges. It served to keep the five alter territories separate as did the massive bridges that allowed a careful flow of vehicles between them. The alter species didn’t do a lot of mixing-and-matching. They were just too different from each other. Battling usually followed proximity.
Broken Bridge was one of hundreds of smaller, makeshift bridges that had been built to span as many gullies. A brief war eleven years ago and a rocket launcher had torn the bridge up. It was surrounded by thickets of small, jumbled palo verde trees that never got enough water.
Another breeze. Another scent, only this one was fully Lauren, a blend of citrus and tropical fruit. They could have made margaritas with what this woman gave off. When they’d been lovers, he’d teased her about it, then used his tongue to grab as much of her flavor as he could.
He shifted his stance. He’d never known a woman like Lauren, not before his alter transformation two years ago, not since.
But she was a witch and in one terrible move, she’d proven how much he couldn’t trust her. The break had been final. He was still mad as fire.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I know you’re there. Show yourself, witch.”
When she emerged from her protective shield, she was only eight feet away. He grew grimmer still as this evidence of her level of power made itself known. But for a moment, her beauty struck him hard all over again.
She had a heart-shaped face with molded cheeks and full lips. She wore her thick light brown hair in layered waves just past her shoulders. Her brows were arched over eyes an unusual shade of violet. Tonight, she wore her favorite get-up. Jeans, snug t-shirt and running shoes. The sight of her curves, which he knew well, hit him in the gut.
The time he’d spent with her had felt like forever.
Then she’d ruined it with one touch of her killing power.
