His Darkest Hunger (Jaguar Warriors 1)

Jaxon gritted his teeth, trying to hold the beast down and keep his composure. Declan O’Hara wanted to have a pissing contest, but he had no time for that kind of shit. ?

?I’m in a small town called Winterhaven. It’s located in northern Michigan. I found Libby.”

There was a pause once more as his former teammate took a few moments.

“And she’s still alive?” The voice was harsh, deadly cold.

It was Jaxon’s turn to pause as a host of emotions washed over him. “I came here specifically to put a bullet between her eyes, but yeah, she’s still alive.”

“And the reason for that is?” Declan’s manner had wintered even more as the barely concealed contempt they all felt for Libby rose to the surface.

“Something’s not right here. I was sent this intel on a secure channel. I didn’t take the time to check it out, so I can’t even tell you where the hell it came from. What I can tell you…is that things are not what they seem. She has no clue who the hell I am, and someone just tried to take the both of us out.”

Jaxon paused, tight-lipped with anger at the audacity of the unknown assassin. His voice became harsh and he growled into the cell phone. “I need you to find out where that intel came from. This was a setup. It’s not about Libby. It’s about me. Someone wants me dead, and I aim to find the bastard before he gets another shot at my ass.”

“And what about Libby?”

Jaxon paused before barking into the phone, “Leave her to me. She has a lot to answer for, and trust me, she will pay for her complicity in Diego’s murder.”

“Right, sure. So where we gonna run this investigation? I’m assuming you want to keep it on the down low.”

“Meet me at the loft in twenty-four hours. Call ahead and let Cracker know you’re coming. You still in touch with Ana?”

“Yeah, she freelances with us every now and again. I can’t promise, though. Not sure she’s even in the country.”

“Call her. I’ll expect to see the both of you tomorrow night.”

Jaxon clicked the cell and shoved it back into his pocket. He listened briefly as the sound of police and emergency response teams intermingled with the shrieks and cries of the scared patrons inside the diner.

The lonely wail of a wolf lit the night sky, and suddenly the beast inside him became painfully agitated.

Jaxon took off at a run, climbing the fire escape until he was on top of the roof. He crouched down low, senses quivering in the cold night air. Reaching into his bag, he retrieved a small pair of night vision goggles and began a scan of the area along the embankment, where he’d set his sniper gear up less than an hour ago.

No movement could be discerned. Whoever took the shots had probably disappeared as soon as they’d been fired. He would have known his aim had failed, his cover blown, and retreated.

Savagely, Jaxon snarled as his body hummed in anticipation. It had been far too long since he’d hunted. Running to the far side of the building, he leapt over the side and landed over twenty feet below. He paused, scented the air, then broke into a run.

The heavy satchel slung from his shoulders was not a concern, as his long legs quickly carried him down the small valley and up onto the high ridge that followed the western side of Winterhaven. Once on top, he turned back toward town, ignoring the chaos that he could see inside the diner, and began to calculate distance and angles.

Once he was satisfied, he picked up the pace and found himself close to the area he had chosen earlier that night.

He dropped to his knees, his eyes searching the ground for clues. There was nothing there. This indicated a professional. Anger rode him hard; anger at himself. He’d put his own life in jeopardy because his entire psyche had been torn into knots at the thought of seeing Libby again.

At the thought of killing her.

He inhaled deeply. The scent of the sniper filled his nostrils, and he growled loudly as the lingering odor left a trail he could follow easily.

Jaxon’s skin began to burn once more, and this time the energy would not be denied.

With a mighty roar, he grabbed his satchel and quickly found the safe cache he’d carved out of the ground several hours earlier. Throwing his gear inside, he stripped his body of clothes and boots, tossing them in along with the rest.

A large moon hung low in the sky, its soft glow caressing the hard lines of his body, the only witness as the change came over him.

Long fingers of mist swirled and clung to his limbs as bones popped and muscles elongated. His skin rippled and fell away, leaving a thick coat of glossy black fur in its place. When the mist cleared, a large jaguar barked a warning, his cry echoing loudly in the quiet night air.

The beast shook out his powerful limbs and quickly ran to the area where the sniper had been. He inhaled his enemy’s scent deep into its lungs. The stink of a human male filtered through his nasal cavity, and the great beast took off, running hard.

The scent was still fresh in the air and on the ground, and he followed it easily. The sniper had packed up quickly and was already on the move. The cat knew he needed to cut him off before he reached his vehicle.