CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER TWO

Pausing in sweeping the shiny floor of the indoor basketball court, Havana sighed at her friends. Her head was pounding, so she didn’t appreciate the echoing sounds of the ball bouncing, sneakers squeaking on the floor, or the curses and grunts. “Could you two both stop goofing around and help me tidy up so we can shut the place down?”

Bailey stilled, her face all innocence. “We were just checking that the ball wasn’t deflating. Turns out it’s fine.”

“Now how about that,” Havana said dryly. “Go retract the bleachers into the walls, please.” She looked at Aspen. “Could you put the rest of the sports equipment back? And could you maybe find the little beanbag I saw your bearcat run off with earlier? I know she hid it somewhere.” Why bearcat shifters stole and stashed objects—most of which they couldn’t possibly have a use for—Havana didn’t know. The full-blooded animals of their kind, which humans referred to as red pandas, didn’t appear to do it.

“Will do,” replied Aspen, idly plucking at the dark choppy layers in her long, angled bob. The tall, curvy female then strode off in that catwalk-haughty way she had.

“Thank you.” Havana turned back to sweeping the floor. For years they’d worked at the rec center, which was exclusive to lone shifters. As sad as it was, loners were often targeted, so it was a dangerous lifestyle. The rec center was a safe place where they could relax, have fun, andmeet others in their situation. It made them feel less alone. It gave them somewhere to “belong,” even if only for a few hours a day.

The center had saved Havana. She’d been living on the streets when a regular here had coaxed her into checking the place out. The owner and manager, Corbin, had offered her a place to stay at his large house, which was a foster home of sorts for homeless lone shifter children.

Aspen had already been living there when Havana arrived. Bailey came along a year later. The three of them were different breeds of shifter, but they’d become so close they were like sisters.

They considered themselves a miniature yet unofficial clan of sorts. Their co-worker and close friend, Camden, kind of loitered on the edges of it. They all lived in the same building. Bailey was Havana’s roommate while Aspen and Camden lived in the neighboring apartment.

It wasn’t always easy for loners to find accommodation. There was a lot of prejudice against them from both shifters and humans alike. Plus, Havana had to conceal that she was a shifter if the landlord was human—devils hadn’t yet come out of the shifter closet. Many species hadn’t, including Tate’s kind. Ugh. She tried her best not to think about him, but her thoughts often circled back to him.

A week had gone by since she broke things off. She hadn’t heard or seen anything of him during those seven days. But then, she hadn’t thought he would. Sure, he hadn’t liked that she’d ended the fling, but she’d bet that was only because he would have preferred to be in control of when it ended—Alpha males were all about control.

The first thing she’d done after leaving his house was text Aspen and Bailey, asking them to meet her at a local bar so Havana could get blitzed. They’d drank shots, trash-talked male shifters, and contemplated calling Tate to inform him that he was a fuckface—something they thankfully hadn’t done, because she’d have been mortified when sober. They’d topped off the evening by fighting with some bitchy jackals who apparently had an issue with loners. All in all, it hadn’t been a bad night.

Done sweeping, Havana blew out an upward breath, making her bangs lift. She’d worked extra shifts at the center over the past week, hoping to ease her devil’s annoyance. The animal was in a super foul mood.

It wasn’t until Havana stalked out of Tate’s house that she realized her devil had expected him to ask Havana to stay. The devil had believed he’d offer Havana more; that he wanted her bad enough to overcome whatever commitment issues he had. When he’d instead let her go, he’d pissed the devil off to such an extent that she’d slammed a mental door on him. She’d been in a huff ever since, and Havana couldn’t seem to snap her out of it.

The devil hadn’t reacted quite as dramatically when Dieter got all cozy with an eagle shifter, nor had she seemed surprised. Maybe the devil hadn’t expected him to commit. Really, Havana shouldn’t have hoped for it either, given that Dieter disliked the lone shifter lifestyle and wanted to join a flock.

He’d been born to an eagle shifter couple who were loners, so he’d never known anything different. He wanted that sense of belonging that came with being part of a flock. He had this grand notion that his life would be a bed of roses if he was ever accepted into one. He didn’t understand why Havana liked being a loner.

Unlike him, she hadn’t been a loner all her life. She’d once been part of a devil shifter clan. Contrary to what Dieter believed, being part of something didn’t always give you a sense of “belonging.” The members didn’t always look out for their own. Didn’t always take care of you. Sometimes they even took from you … leaving you all alone in the world.

The heavy door swung open, making the hinges creak. She turned to see Corbin walk inside. The grizzly had opened the center many years ago in memory of his younger sister, Celine. Their parents had been lone shifters, so there’d been no one to take in Corbin and Celine when said parents died in a house fire. The children ended up living on the streets, and poor Celine later died a terrible death at the hands of a hyena clan. Corbin tried to help others in the way no one had helped him or his sister. He was gruff on the outside but gooey on the inside.

He’d taken many loners under his wing over the years, giving them whatever support he could, providing jobs for them at the center, and helping them find safe accommodation—sometimes at the local homeless shelter for lone shifters. He was seriously ace, in her opinion.

“Almost done in here?” he asked.

Havana smiled. “I think so, yeah, we—Bailey, get off the maintenance trolley.” The weirdo was balancing on it while spinning in circles. Havana didn’t know if it was a black mamba thing or a Bailey thing, but the female had a seriously short attention span. Bailey’s mind switched context fast and often, so she had a habit of blurting out questions that were usually unrelated to whatever was happening around her. Most people found it kind of endearing.

Bailey pouted, which somehow looked cute. “Fine, fine.” She hopped off the trolley and flicked her sleek hair—which she’d recently dyed a striking silver that suited her perfectly—over her shoulder. She was a pretty thing with her deep-set eyes, oval face, and the high cheekbones any female would envy. It was clear she had some Asian ancestry.

Mambas possessed the same notoriously bad temper as devil shifters and often picked fights purely for shits and giggles. But people tended to assume that Bailey wasn’t as fierce and feisty as her inner snake. Mostly because she looked so sweet and innocent. Yeah, she really wasn’t.

With her default unimpressed expression, Aspen looked aloof and disinterested in people. Yeah, she absolutely was. But that was a bearcat thing. They gave zero fucks about what went on outside their own little world—they didn’t like to complicate their lives.

What bearcats really didn’t like was to be cuddled. But because they were so adorable, it was often the first thing people tried to do. In truth, that cuteness was a weapon—it suckered you in, made you move closer, made you think you were safe. But there would be no snugglefest from these cantankerous creatures who had uber-sharp teeth and a chomping power that could crush bone.

Honestly, Havana was no more a fan of cuddles than bearcats were … which was why she tended to snarl if anyone tried hugging her. She’d always been that way, according to her late mother.

Corbin folded his arms. “I was hoping to speak with the three of you.”

Feeling a lecture coming on, Havana asked, “About what?”

He tilted his head. “You really can’t guess?”

Aspen arched her brows. “We have to guess? Ooh, this could take a while.” She hummed. “You want to chew a chunk out of our asses for shoving dead sardines down the seat tube of Jackson’s bike? If so, I’m not apologizing. He totally deserved it for cheating on Bailey—and with Ginny, of all people.”

“Limped-dick motherfucker,” Bailey muttered.

“No, it’s not about that,” said Corbin. “I agree he had it coming, although the stench was disgusting, so I’d ask that you pick a different mode of revenge in future.”

“Okay, so what did you want to talk about?” Havana narrowed her eyes. “Is this about us putting Creepy Stan up for sale on Gregslist?”

Corbin shook his head. “No.”

“Trying to buy an otter when we were smashed?” asked Havana.

“No.”

Bailey clicked her fingers. “Ooh, baptizing Hoe Bag in the pool?”

His lips thinned. “Her name is Ginny. And I wouldn’t call holding her head under the water until she almost drowns a baptism.”

Bailey shrugged. “She was praying.”

Corbin sighed. “I don’t want to talk about her either.”

“Then what?” asked Havana.

He folded his arms. “Oh, maybe I was curious about the barfight you had with three jackals last weekend.”

“Ah,” was all Havana said.

He looked at Bailey. “I heard you drew first blood by slapping one of them so hard you split her lip.”

“I didn’t like the way she was looking at me,” said Bailey.

His eyes slid back to Havana. “You’re usually the voice of reason when Bailey tries to start shit. But instead of calming things down, you went head-to-head with the second jackal.”

Havana shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t like the way she spoke to me.”

His gaze moved to Aspen. “And you decided to go at the third jackal with a stiletto blade, despite her trying to break up the fight.”

“I didn’t like the way she smelled,” said Aspen.

Bailey nodded at Aspen. “She did smell weird, didn’t she? Like wet clothes that had been left in the washing machine too long. It was just … ew.”

Corbin rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know why I ever expect to hear rational answers from any of you.”

The door opened again. A tall, broad-shouldered figure of pure gorgeousness stalked inside. Camden. He and Aspen had been close friends since before Havana and Bailey arrived at the center. There were a lot of shadows in the tiger shifter’s eyes—eyes that often had a cold, reptilian quality to them that made her devil’s fur stand on end. Not that the animal feared him, she just sensed that there was something missing in him. Or perhaps it had just been snuffed out.

Whatever the case, he could be so emotionally unreactive that it was eerie. Havana had never heard him laugh. He rarely smiled, and it was even rarer that he raised his voice or lost his cool. But when it came to Aspen, well, he was different. He didn’t linger on the edge of her world as he did with others, he was smack bam in the middle of it.

At one time, he’d seemed to view Havana and Bailey as interlopers and hadn’t wanted them around. Havana had made it clear that she didn’t wish to take Aspen from him, she wanted him to be part of their unofficial clan. He’d settled on hearing that, but he’d never become a true part of it.

He treated Havana and Bailey like family, but in a distant-cousin-who-tolerates-you-as-best-he-can kind of way. The bearcat was probably the only living being he truly gave a shit about. Which was no doubt why his boyfriend didn’t much like her. In fact, none of the tiger’s past partners—male or female—had liked her, as if they felt threatened by their close friendship.

Sidling up to Aspen, he casually draped his arm over her shoulders. “Ready to go home yet?”

“Yes,” replied the bearcat. “I’m having a serious craving for mac and cheese right now.”

“I can accommodate that.” Camden looked at Corbin. “The fitness rooms are all locked up.”

Corbin gave a satisfied nod.

“I think we should order takeout, Havana,” said Bailey. “I’m not feeling in the mood to cook. Are you?”

Aspen frowned at the mamba. “You don’t cook, you nuke meals in your microwave.”

Bailey shrugged. “Same thing.”

“No, it really isn’t,” said Aspen. She slid her eyes to Corbin. “Just to let you know, a few of the kids are hoping you’ll organize another camping trip.”

“I don’t suppose you and Camden will help out again if I do, will you?” asked Corbin. “You’re both experienced campers. I heard you saw a bear last time.”

“We never actually saw it,” said Aspen. “We just heard it shuffling around outside the tent, making weird noises. For a moment there, I thought, ‘Well, the zombie apocalypse has officially started.’”

Corbin set his fists on his hips. “You heard movement outside your tent, and your first thought wasn’t, ‘Oh, must be an animal’? It was, ‘Shit, zombie’? Really?”

“Z-Day is coming. We have to be ready.”

Corbin sighed. “If you say so. Now let’s lock this place up.”

Bailey lifted her finger. “Gotta grab my stuff from my locker first.”

“I’ll wait for you in the car,” Havana told her.

Outside, Camden guided Aspen to his vehicle in the parking lot. Havana headed straight for her own car, flicking through the notifications on her cell phone. And she pretended she wasn’t hoping to see a message or missed call from Tate.

Nearing her car, she unlocked it with the key fob but didn’t hop in—she was busy deleting the shit-mail from the inbox of her email account. That done, she pocketed her phone and reached for the door handle. Feeling a sharp prick on her lower leg, she went to slap at the spot, hoping to squash the damn mosquito. But then there were two more sharp stings in quick succession—one on her thigh, and one on her arm. She glanced down and muttered a curse as she saw three darts. What in the everloving fuck?

Snapping her head up, she turned and—there. A mean-looking asshole was standing near a large van, holding a tranquilizer gun. He met her gaze, his mouth gaping open as he no doubt wondered why the darts were having no effect.

Anger washed through Havana and her devil, who let out a furious snarl. Havana charged at the bastard, sprinting across the lot. His eyes widened. He fired again, hitting her dead center in the chest, but she kept on coming. He bit out a loud curse.

With a surge of good ole devil strength, she yanked the gun out of his grip and slammed the butt of the weapon on his head, dazing him. Wicked fast, she flipped the gun around and shot him twice in the neck. His hand fluttered at his throat as he tried pulling—

The driver’s door swung open and a huge hulking male jumped out of the van. She fired, but no darts came out. Fuck. She tossed the weapon at his head, but he jerked aside, dodging it.

He slammed his meaty fist into her jaw, making her head whip to the side. She twisted her body with a hiss and snapped out her leg, delivering a pitiless bladder shot that made him grunt and stagger back into the door he’d left open.

Lunging forward, she lashed out and raked her uber sharp claws down his face and—

“Havana!”

The sound of footsteps thundering along the ground made the bastard curse. He leapt into the vehicle, and then it disappeared with a squeal of tires. Corbin and Camden pursued it, yelling at the driver, who hadn’t even closed the door yet.

Bailey and Aspen came straight to Havana, their eyes wide.

“You okay?” asked the bearcat.

“Fine,” replied Havana, plucking the darts out of her body. She rubbed at her jaw. “That fucker has a punch on him. He was a wild dog shifter. I haven’t come across one of those in a while.”

Bailey planted her hands on her hips. “What the hell was all that about?”

“I don’t know.” Havana looked down at the shooter, who’d slid to the ground at some point and was out cold. Cougar, she sensed. “But maybe he can tell us when he wakes up.”

Sitting on the chair in front of the shooter, Havana smiled as he started to come around. They’d taken him to the storage basement within the rec center, stripped him naked, and then securely bound him to a sturdy chair. “Hi, welcome back.”

His eyelids lazily fluttered open. It was another minute before reality seemed to hit him. And then he went stiff as a board. He probably would have shifted if she hadn’t made the bindings so tight—the zip ties would cut right into him if he tried it.

“I know it must be somewhat disconcerting to wake up and find yourself naked and tied to a chair while surrounded by five pissed-the-fuck-off shifters. But as you’re responsible for the pissed-the-fuck-off part, I figure you realize this is totally your fault and all.”

His eyes darted around the basement, no doubt seeking exits. There was only one. Corbin was currently standing at the base of the steps in front of it, calm as you please. He’d agreed to take a backseat and let Havana lead. He knew about her old “side job.” It was the same job Bailey, Aspen, and Camden had had once upon a time.

“Now, you probably already know that my name is Havana Ramos.” She gave their captive an encouraging smile. “Why don’t you tell me yours?”

The cougar held her gaze, his own glimmering with defiance.

Havana sighed. “Aspen, be a dear and give the kitty a temporary name. It would be rude to just refer to him as ‘Asshole.’”

Leaning against the wall near Camden, Aspen paused in filing her nails to study the cougar. “He looks like a Bogart to me.”

“Really?” Bailey tossed a mint into her mouth as she sidled up to Havana. “I would have said Chauncey. Or Hyman. It’s an honest to God’s boys name, I swear.”

“And the perfect name for a pussy, which is exactly what we have here,” said Aspen before going back to her nails.

“Then Hyman it is,” said Havana. Turning back to him, she held up the phone that she’d dug out of his pocket earlier. “We’re going to need your PIN, Hyman.”

He swallowed as his eyes once more danced around the room. “9587.”

“Thank you.” Havana entered the PIN. The screen flickered, and the phone let out a weird bleeping sound. Then the screen went utterly black. She pressed button after button, but nothing happened.

“What’s wrong?” asked Bailey, peering down at the phone.

“It clapped out.” Havana narrowed her eyes on the fucker in front of her, who was looking rather pleased with himself. “Let me guess, you gave me the wrong PIN so it would set off some sort of tripwire that wiped the phone clean.”

He only smirked.

“Oh, you’re thinking that makes you clever.” Havana shook her head sadly. “No, Hyman, it makes you stupid. Like really stupid. Because now the only way we can get answers about who you are, why you came, and who was with you earlier … is by making you tell us. You might not enjoy that part.”

He snorted.

Aspen pushed away from the wall and slowly came closer. “You know what? I think he doesn’t believe we’ll harm him. To be fair, most of the people we’ve ‘harmed’ made that mistake. They just saw some harmless-looking loners and completely underestimated us. Which, incidentally, is how we landed our old job. Our ex-boss knew people would overlook us, and that suited him.”

Bailey arched a brow at the cougar. “Would you like to know what our old job was?”

The dumb shit rolled his eyes.

“I’ll take that as a no,” said Havana. “All right, we won’t bore you with details you have no interest in. But you will tell me why you came for me tonight. Really, I don’t think it’s unreasonable of me to want to know why you shot me four times.”

A line formed between his brows.

“You’re wondering why the tranqs didn’t knock me out,” she sensed. “Devils are immune to those sort of drugs—we don’t advertise that, of course. Why make it easy for those who’d get the silly idea to target us? People like you, for example. Now, tell me why you came for me.”

He notched up his chin and stared at her.

Havana sighed. “Bailey.”

The other female shifted in a flash. The slender mamba slithered out of the puddle of clothes, a stunning gunmetal gray with oblique dark bars down her sides.

Hyman’s eyes went wide. He tried inching backwards and twisted within the confines of the ropes that were wrapped around him. But the chair didn’t budge, and the binds didn’t loosen.

The mamba raised three parts of her body off the floor, spread her narrow neck-flap, opened her inky-black mouth, and let out a furious hiss that sounded like a damn pressure cooker.

“Last chance, Hyman,” said Havana. “Why did you come for me?”

His panicked gaze shot back to Havana. He opened his mouth but then just as quickly snapped it shut.

She sighed. “All right, if that’s how you want it …” She nodded at the snake.

The mamba struck lightning fast, biting his thigh.

He jolted, letting out a small cry of pain. “Fuck.”

Havana lightly scratched her cheek. “I’d say you probably have somewhere between 120 and 150mg of venom pumping through your bloodstream right now. Not enough to kill a shifter, but enough to put you through a world of misery.”

His breaths coming quick and fast, he stared down at the punctures wounds in what looked to be disbelief.

“You’re no doubt feeling a tingling sensation near the bite wound. The other symptoms will set in pretty fast. Your eyelids will get all droopy, and you’ll get a metallic taste in your mouth. There’ll also be blurry vision, vertigo, puking, severe stomach cramps, and more—I’ll let some of them be a surprise for you.

“It’ll all go on for, oh, about fifteen hours. But your body will recover, the effects of the venom will wear off, and you’ll be back to normal. Then we can talk again. Yay. Of course, you could decide to stick with the whole telling me nothing plan. Bailey won’t mind biting you a second time. Or a third. Or even a fourth. She’s awesome that way. So you might want to think about that before you decide to be stubborn again. It won’t go well for you.”

He gaped at Havana, as if stunned.

“You really should have shown more interest when my friend tried warning you about our old job,” said Havana. “If you had, she would have told you that we used to work for the Movement.”

His face blanched.

“Yes, yes, the group only deals with human anti-shifter extremists. Members are defenders of our kind. A national treasure, even. So shifters have no need to fear them. But, as I can see you’re considering, it would never be wise to piss off an ex-member. Because we have no qualms about using all the dangerous skills we learned. And we’re no strangers to making someone suffer. If I’m honest, I’ve actually missed it.”

Aspen put a hand to her chest. “Thank God. I thought it was just me.”

Havana rose from her seat. “Well, Hyman, I’ll leave you to enjoy your evening. But I’ll see you again in the morning, bright and early.”

Bailey shifted back to her human form and pulled on her clothes. “I’m still in the mood for takeout, you?” she asked Havana.

“Takeout works for me.”