Tropical Lion's Legacy (Shifting Sands Resort 9)

She had glimpses of the boat as she wove her way down through the resort, and saw it slipping quietly away from the dock as she desperately ran.

By the time she got to the dock, the boat had already passed the reef and she could barely hear the roar of the engine over the sound of the surf. It didn’t pull south and round the tip of the island, but headed north, and she stared after it in consternation.

Alice forced herself to think logically. If the boat had been going for the mainland, it would have gone the other direction. The only other place it could go was the abandoned installation on the other side of the island.

She set her jaw and bolted for the top of the resort, taking the steps two at a stride.

Scarlet was not in her office, but Alice went in anyway. Her bear’s hackles rose at once; this was risky and they both knew it. She stepped behind the desk, wondering if she dared to actually ransack it for the keys she was after.

Before she could work up the nerve, a silhouette appeared in the doorway, tall and ominous.

“Can I help you?” Scarlet sounded as serene as if she hadn’t just caught Alice creeping around in her office.

Alice braced herself for a fight. “I need the Jeep,” she said, balling her fists at her side. She didn’t phrase it as a request.

“Graham,” Scarlet said, eyes narrowing. “He’s... not here.”

“The boat,” Alice said shortly. “I saw someone dump him in the boat and go north.”

Scarlet gave a sound that was half growl and half a sigh of great wind. “I can’t go there,” she said, sounding frustrated.

“I can,” Alice said fiercely.

“You’ll need help,” Scarlet said, pulling a key down from a hook beside the door.

“There’s no time,” Alice said, reaching out her hand. The sense of urgency, of loss, was rising like a storm in her chest.

Scarlet was standing between her and her exit, the key closed in her fingers, and Alice started to bristle. “I have to go,” she snarled.

Scarlet’s green eyes drilled into her and for a moment Alice had to wonder what it was that kept the woman from the other side of the island, what could be possibly be strong enough to resist that will and the terrible power behind it.

Before she could gather herself to fight the woman who was standing between Alice and her mate—however helpless a fight it might be—Scarlet dropped the key into her outstretched palm. “I care about him, too,” she said simply, and stepped aside.

Alice was bolting before she could make any sense of that, key cutting into the palm of her hand.

The drive across the island was considerably less enjoyable than the same trip had been a week before. Gone was the cheerful comradery, and the leisurely pace. Gone was the sunlight, and there was no laughter at Alice’s lips as she pushed the Jeep as fast as she dared over the pitted road.

It took what felt like an eternity to get there, and Alice could only stew over the memory of Graham’s limp body being dropped into the boat, and mourn the comfortable feeling of him in her head that she hadn’t realized was her new normal.

The open gate to the compound caught her entirely by surprise and she drove in with more speed than she meant to; only afterwards thinking that she ought to have pulled the Jeep over and attempted some kind of stealth. There were lights past the house, and Alice could hear unexpected music and crowd noise over the Jeep’s engine.

Two guards suddenly loomed into the light of her headlights, bearing rifles.

“Ah, hi!” she called cheerfully, wishing she’d thought her plan through a little more thoroughly. She climbed out the Jeep, not wanting to shift and damage Scarlet’s vehicle if she didn’t have to.

Only then did she notice the two guards behind her, armed with nightsticks, and a chill went down her back; four guards was a lot even for her bear. “I was out driving around and got turned around in the dark,” she bluffed. “I’m a guest at Shifting Sands, do you know how I get back there?”

They didn’t look particularly convinced by her air-headed speech and one of the guards behind her suddenly said, “That’s the girlfriend of the guy I collected from the resort earlier today. Cyrus is going to want this one for leverage.”

One of the men raised his rifle and shot her.

For a split-second, Alice thought they’d shot her with a bullet and this was the end of her ill-considered heroism as well as her life. Then she realized that it had made a whooshing sound rather than a gunshot crack, and it was only a tiny sting of pain.

There was a small dart in her shoulder, and Alice rationalized that it must be a knock-out drug. She was briefly amused at the idea of a dart meant for a human having any effect on her bear.

But when she reached for her bear, ready to unleash an angry, five-hundred pound animal on the unsuspecting guards, nothing was there.

She was still reeling from the realization when they closed in on her, and her late attempt to defend herself was cut short with a staggering blow to the head from one of the nightstick-wielding guards. Before she could regain her balance, she was being bound and marched into the compound.