Chapter 24

TWENTY-FOUR

K ira stood in front of the full-length mirror, her critical gaze sweeping over her reflection for what felt like the hundredth time. She tugged at the hem of her little black dress, the silky fabric clinging to her curves like a second skin. The daring slit up the side nearly reached her hip, offering a tantalizing peek of her toned, golden leg with every step.

She had to hand it to Gerri - the woman knew how to pick a dress that was both stylish and strategically seductive. Kira just hoped she could walk in these strappy death traps masquerading as heels. The things she did for justice.

With a final twist in front of the mirror, Kira grimaced at her reflection. “Well, if this doesn’t scream ‘honeytrap,’ I don’t know what does,” she muttered to herself, feeling slightly ridiculous in the bombshell getup.

But beneath the wisecracks and eye rolls, Kira’s nerves were stretched tighter than a high wire. This was it - the culmination of weeks of meticulous planning, endless stake-outs, and more than a few close calls. Tonight, they finally had a chance to bring down Franklin Dupont and put an end to his reign of terror over the Paranormal Dating Agency.

Kira still couldn’t believe the depths of Dupont’s depravity. His vengeful scheme to destroy Gerri’s life’s work, to shatter the hopes and dreams of countless shifters, all because the matchmaker had dared to turn him away? It made Kira’s blood boil hotter than a smelting furnace.

But anger wouldn’t serve her tonight. No, tonight called for cunning, precision, and nerves of steel. She and the boys had spent days going over every detail of the sting until they could recite the plan backward and forward in their sleep.

Nash, tech wizard extraordinaire, had whipped up a fake dating profile for Kira that was as enticing as it was bogus. “Kira Moonbeam,” he’d dubbed her, nearly falling out of his chair with laughter at Kira’s horrified expression. “twenty-two, new to the city, and looking for her one true mate. Enjoys long walks on the beach, scented candles, and men who are secretly evil masterminds.”

Rex, meanwhile, had scouted their chosen battleground with the intensity of a general planning a major offensive. Highlight, the hottest new restaurant in town, boasted a wait list longer than a shifter’s lifespan. But Rex, ever the master tactician, had pulled some strings to secure Kira a prime table, complete with unobstructed sightlines and multiple escape routes.

“Um, should I be concerned by how easily you slipped into James Bond mode?” Kira had joked, watching Rex pore over the restaurant’s blueprints for the umpteenth time.

He’d simply quirked a brow at her, his lips twitching with a hint of amusement. “Worried you won’t be able to keep your paws off me in that tux, sweetheart?”

Kira had thrown a pillow at his unfairly chiseled face, ignoring the flare of heat his words ignited in her belly.

And now, here she was, trussed up like a paranormal Mata Hari, ready to go toe-to-toe with a psychopath. She’d run through her role so many times, she could practically recite her lines in her sleep. The naive ingenue, fresh off the turnip truck and desperate for love. It made her skin crawl to even pretend to be that vulnerable and gullible.

But if playing the damsel in distress was what it took to bring Dupont to his knees? Well, hand her the fainting couch and a frilly parasol, because Kira was ready to put on the performance of a lifetime.

A sharp rap on her door startled Kira out of her reverie. She took a deep, steadying breath, squaring her shoulders like a soldier preparing for battle. It was go time.

“Knock, knock,” Nash’s voice singsonged through the door. “Your dashing dates have arrived, Miss Moonbeam. Although I must say, Rex fills out a suit better than--OW! Hey, I was just stating facts!”

Kira bit back a grin, picturing Rex’s long-suffering eye roll as he likely elbowed Nash in the ribs. Those two were a comedy act unto themselves, and she’d need every ounce of their levity to get through tonight without losing her mind.

With a final fortifying breath, Kira crossed to the door on only slightly wobbly legs. She flung it open, striking a pose that she hoped read more ‘femme fatale’ than ‘baby giraffe in stilettos.’

“Well, boys,” she drawled, taking in their equally stunned expressions with a surge of feminine pride, “ready to go catch us a bad guy?”

Nash let out a low wolf whistle, his eyes sparkling with mischief and something deeper, something that made Kira’s stomach do a little flip. “Damn, baby cakes. You clean up real nice.”

Rex, meanwhile, simply stared at her, his gaze scorching a path from her glossy curls to her strappy sandals. When his eyes finally met hers, the intensity Kira saw there nearly buckled her knees.

“Kira,” he rumbled, his voice low and rough with an emotion she dared not name. “You look...incredible.”

Kira’s heart stuttered in her chest, a blush rising to her cheeks that had nothing to do with the layers of makeup she’d so carefully applied. Clearing her throat, she gave them both a saucy wink.

“Save the sweet talk for the victory celebration, handsome,” she quipped, trying to ignore the way her pulse was doing the mambo. “We’ve got a snake to catch, and I’d hate to keep him waiting.”

Rex crossed the room in a few long strides, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. “You ready for this, baby?”

Kira leaned into his touch, drawing strength from the contact. “As I’ll ever be. Let’s do this.”

They went over the plan one last time, checking and double-checking their equipment. Kira wore a small, practically invisible earpiece that would allow her to stay in constant contact with the guys. They’d be stationed at a table nearby, posing as businessmen having a dinner meeting.

At the first sign of trouble, they’d swoop in. But the goal was to get Dupont to incriminate himself, to catch him red-handed in the act of setting up another fraudulent match.

Kira’s stomach churned with anxiety as they made their way to the restaurant. She kept telling herself this was just another case, another role to play. But the stakes had never been higher.

As she stepped out of the car, Kira felt a warm hand on the small of her back. She glanced up to see Nash, his eyes soft with concern. “We’ve got you, sweetheart. No matter what happens, we’ll be right there with you.”

Kira managed a small smile, grateful for his steady presence. She took a deep breath and stepped into the restaurant, ready to face whatever the night might bring.

The ma?tred’ showed her to a table near the back, a single rose in a delicate vase serving as the centerpiece. Kira sat, smoothing her dress and trying to calm her racing heart.

She scanned the room, spotting Rex and Nash at a table across the way. They were deep in conversation, playing their roles to perfection. But Kira could feel their eyes on her, could sense their coiled readiness.

Minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness. Kira sipped at her water, trying to keep her hands from shaking. Where was Dupont? Had they miscalculated somehow?

Just as she was about to signal to the guys that something was off, a server approached her table. “Excuse me, miss. There’s a message for you at the front.”

Kira frowned, glancing over at Rex and Nash. This wasn’t part of the plan. But she couldn’t break character, not now. She nodded to the server and rose gracefully from her chair, feeling the weight of her mates’ gazes on her as she made her way to the front of the restaurant.

But as she rounded the corner, Kira’s world spun on its axis. Two burly men, their scents unmistakably lion, grabbed her roughly by the arms. She opened her mouth to scream, but a heavy hand clamped over her mouth, muffling the sound.

Panic surged through her as they dragged her out the back door, her heels scraping uselessly against the concrete. They shoved her into the back of a waiting van, the door slamming shut behind her with a sickening finality.

Kira’s mind raced as the van lurched into motion. She had to stay calm, had to remember her training. She focused on her breathing, on the steady thrum of her lioness’ power beneath her skin.

They hadn’t blindfolded her, which meant they didn’t care if she saw where they were going. There were too many lions in that van with her. Not a good sign. Kira strained to make out any distinguishing landmarks as they sped through the city streets, but it was no use. The windows were tinted black, blocking out any hope of orientation.

After what felt like an eternity, the van shuddered to a stop. The door flew open and rough hands hauled Kira out, her feet barely touching the ground as they dragged her into a dark, cavernous warehouse.

The scents of oil, rust, and stale fear assaulted her nose, making her stomach turn. This was Dupont’s lair, she realized with a sinking dread. The place he’d been plotting his revenge, biding his time until he could strike.

Lights flickered to life overhead, casting an eerie glow over the scene. Kira blinked against the sudden brightness, her eyes adjusting to take in the half dozen lions surrounding her, their stances menacing.

And there, stepping out from the shadows with a cruel smile on his face, was the man himself. Franklin Dupont.

Fuck