Midnight Wolf (Shifters Unbound #11)(3)



“No offense, Haider, but piss off. I’m clocking out and going home.” Angus moved to the computer on the desk to tap out his code to finish his hours, but Haider spoke again.

“Your son. Ciaran.”

Angus stilled, his fingers hovering above the touch screen. “What about him?”

“He isn’t home. My agents have orders to look after him until you bring in Tamsin Calloway.”

Angus didn’t hear anything after the first few words. He launched himself over the desk and into Haider, slamming the man against the nearest wall.

“First rule,” he snarled, his face changing to the beast between his human form and his black wolf’s. “Don’t touch the cubs.”

“He won’t be hurt,” Haider said, calm for a man with a wolf’s claws around his throat. “If you cooperate.”

“Fuck you, dickhead—” Angus’s words cut off in a crackle of electricity and searing pain as his Collar and the Taser in Haider’s hand went off at the same time.

Two hours later, Angus walked into an illegal gaming den down in the bayous, acting on a tip Haider’s agents had received. For the last week or so, Tamsin Calloway had been seen hanging out in the area of Houma and smaller towns, coming and going, up to something—who knew what?

She’d been visiting this old plantation house that held card games in one of its back rooms—the games were known to local police but deliberately ignored. Someone along the line was probably getting a kickback.

Angus drove from New Orleans in the car Haider had lent him, a pathetic old station wagon from the last century. Angus had taken one look at it and objected in disbelief, but Haider said, “She won’t notice you’re Shifter in this. We need a quick capture. Do everything right, and you and your cub will be going home together tonight.”

Angus only kept himself from strangling Haider by reminding himself that Ciaran’s life hung in the balance. Shifter Bureau might not go so far as to kill a cub—such an act would have repercussions, even for Shifter Bureau—but they could take Ciaran away from him, foster him with a Shifter family far away, forbid Angus to see him again.

Might as well send him to dust, Angus thought bitterly. He didn’t have much in his life anymore besides Ciaran. His son was his whole world.

Angus parked the car in a closed-down gas station a little way from the plantation house and proceeded on foot. He reasoned he didn’t want to come out dragging his quarry to find himself hemmed in by other vehicles. Or maybe he just didn’t want to be laughed at, a big bad Shifter emerging from a faded, wood-paneled station wagon.

Cars and motorcycles were parked haphazardly in the dirt around the house, showing he’d been right about the possibility of getting blocked in. Popular place.

Old plantation houses in this area either became tourist attractions, if there was money to fix them up, or slowly fell apart in the hands of private owners. This one looked to be in better repair, its columns ghostly white in the fog, lights flickering in its windows.

Angus moved stiffly, his nervous system recovering from the multiple shocks from his Collar and the Taser. Haider hadn’t needed to tase him, but the man was a bastard. Angus had known as soon as Haider mentioned Ciaran that he’d be chasing down the Shifter woman. He’d attacked Haider to make him understand what would happen to him if Ciaran was harmed in any way. There was no need to subdue Angus to get him to obey.

A guard stood inside the door of the plantation house, a human who was almost as large as a Shifter. He gazed at Angus with narrow eyes until Angus gave the password. Haider had known that too.

Again Angus wondered why the hell Haider hadn’t simply sent in a bunch of Bureau commandos with black fatigues and tranq rifles to grab her. The man wasn’t telling Angus everything.

As Angus stepped inside the dimly lit interior, he saw that this place was more than a backwoods casino. To the right of the main hall was a large living room, lit with darkly shaded lamps. People lounged on sofas together—very close together. From the scents Angus caught, they were human and Shifter.

Humans and Shifters were upstairs as well, from the scent of things. Interesting. Was someone running a brothel or was this a house where humans and Shifters could mingle without anyone getting in a twist about it?

A black-skinned Shifter came down the stairs, the man almost as tall as Angus but not as big, his muscles more ropy. Angus placed himself in front of him.

“What are you doing here?” Angus asked in a quiet voice. He didn’t say the Shifter’s name, though he’d known it for years—Reginald McKee, currently second in command in his Shiftertown. Names and ranks might not be a good thing to throw around here.

Reg halted on the bottom step, looking, if anything, embarrassed. “Just hanging out. You?”

“Looking for someone.” Angus kept his voice soft as a breath. Reg, being Shifter, could hear him, but anything louder and every other Shifter here would too. “Shifter female.”

Reg huffed a laugh. “Can you be more specific?”

Angus leaned forward and whispered the name into Reg’s ear. Reg looked thoughtful, then shook his head. “No idea, my friend. Sorry.”

“Help me look?”

Reg’s amusement died. “Why? Her mate pissed off at her or something?”

Angus rubbed his hand over his uncombed hair. “It’s complicated.”

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