Shake Your Moneymaker

Shake Your Moneymaker Den of Iniquity Book One Kris Eton (c) 2009

Shake Your Moneymaker Den of Iniquity Book One Kris Eton Published 2009 ISBN 978-1-59578-599-2 Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2009, Kris Eton. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. Manufactured in the United States of America Liquid Silver Books http://LSbooks.com Email: [email protected] Editor Lynne Anderson Cover Artist Amanda Kelsey This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental. Blurb When a man wearing a clown mask and holding a gun shows up at Candace Kane’s bank, she knows she chose the wrong day to deposit her bartending tips. Taken captive by the bank robber, she discovers she’s attracted to the brute and finds herself in a compromising position. But can she believe his wild stories about love, murder, and coyote shapeshifters?

Sam Daughtry is a man on a mission. The bank robbery is all a ploy to get back at the man who killed his shapeshifter mate. What he didn’t count on was sexy Candy and her irresistible scent. Although he’d vowed revenge for his mate’s death, he finds a reason to hope he might just find love again…with a human. But first he has to take down the threat to his shapeshifter den and find a way to move past his grief.

Chapter One The sun rose over the distant hills, turning the desert rock an unnatural shade of pink. Sam Daughtry crouched nude behind a small hill of dirt and sand. He kept a sharp eye on the Arizona Sky Bank and Trust below him. The manager had arrived and unlocked the main door just minutes earlier. He knew only one teller would be working on Monday. A slow day. In the sleepy town of Iniquity that meant maybe three customers tops before noon. He should be in and out of there in less than an hour if he stuck to the schedule. A silver Honda pulled into the lot. The teller. The early desert sun was hot on his dark head making him wish for his cowboy hat, but that wouldn’t fit with his plans. He scrabbled in the loose dirt nearby and, in a matter of seconds, he’d dug up a plastic bag stuffed with a change of clothes—jeans and a T-shirt. He pulled on the jeans. No point in wearing any boxers. He’d only be in these clothes for a couple hours at most. He yanked the shirt down over his head. From the very bottom of the bag, he produced a clown mask and a gun. Now he was ready. **** Candace parked her motorcycle next to the Arizona Sky Bank and Trust building. Although she’d spent the whole weekend serving up drinks to a bunch of dirty ranch hands and rude construction workers, the tips had been good. Her purse was stuffed full of ones and loose change. Every penny counted. She’d almost reached her goal. Three years of saving. Three years of working a job she hated. Three years of dreaming about getting out of this desert nowhere town. She set up the kickstand, hung her helmet on the handlebar, and shook out her hair. She made her deposits Monday mornings because she could avoid Don Chambers, the bank owner. Ever since he’d helped her open up that special account with the higher interest rate, he’d implied she owed him a favor of the sexual kind. She might’ve led him to believe she’d give him something in return for allowing her into the exclusive Silver Dollar Savings Club—usually reserved for clients with a hefty starting deposit—but he had to know after two years she never meant to live up to her promises. His car wasn’t in the lot, which meant she wouldn’t have to deal with his groping hands. Sometimes a girl had to do whatever she could to get ahead. Even if that meant lying to some sleazy bank owner to get a sweet deal. Why should the rich jerks get all the perks? She straightened the legs of her jeans and headed for the entrance. Depositing the hundred fifty bucks would come close to putting her over the top. One more weekend should do it. Then she’d tell J.D., her boss, that she was done. Over. Gone. She’d leave town with only what she could carry on her motorcycle. When she stepped inside the cool air welcomed her. She shivered. Even though she wore jeans and the heat from outside grew every second, her tank top was a little too

skimpy for the freezerlike air. “Good morning.” The teller, a young blonde in a yellow cardigan sweater, smiled. “I’m here to make a deposit, but I need some coin wrappers.” She wished they had one of those coin sorters at this branch. Customers who brought in loose change in large amounts were expected to wrap it up themselves before making a deposit. The teller handed her a stack of wrappers. “You can use one of the booths in back again.” Candace had a routine: take a spot in the back, count her coins, and wrap them. They were used to seeing her here. Just not this early. She glanced at the door with a placard that read: Donald M. Chambers, Owner. Any other day of the week and Chambers would be here, leering at her through the glass window of his office. “Thanks. Should only take me a few minutes.” The teller nodded and picked up her book. The girl must be expecting a slow morning. As Candace made her way behind the main counter to the closed booths in back, her heart felt lighter than it had in years. This was it. Next week, she could start her new life. She dumped the contents of her purse on the small desk in the cubicle and sat down for the tedious task of sorting and rolling her coins.

Chapter Two Sam headed straight down the dusty bluff, his old worn boots sliding. He’d tucked the gun in the back of his pants and hid it with his shirt. From this side of the bank, he saw two cars: the teller’s and the manager’s. Mary was the teller today. Slight, squinty, easily frightened. He’d tested her out one night at a bar in town. Followed her after work. He wanted to know everything about the two people who’d be there in the bank on the day he planned to hit it. He’d done weeks of preparation. Everything had to go smoothly with no margin for error. If he fucked it up … well, he wasn’t going to. Mary had surprised him. Her meek manner made him think she’d be more likely to go home and watch a movie alone on her couch. But she’d gone to a bar and ordered a couple of girly-looking drinks. A guy who could barely speak English had hit on her. She’d been so flustered … even after the drinks. That’s when Sam knew she’d be perfect. He crept alongside the west side of the bank. The building sat back far enough from the road so he wouldn’t be seen by the passing traffic. But even if he were no one would recognize him. His den had lived outside Iniquity for generations. They’d avoided interacting with humans to keep their secret safe. If it weren’t for the fact he needed to get in and out of the bank without leaving a trace, he’d rather have come at night. A shifter liked to move at night and use his animal skills. It would have been to his advantage, but one thing stood in his way: a lock. Well, a lock and a vault. Not as if he robbed banks for a living. He had no expertise with combinations, special locks, heavy-duty equipment. This was a one-time thing. He did his best with the skills he had. The door whispered open. The blonde teller looked up from her book. “Put your hands on your head, and I won’t hurt you.” Sam, clown mask pulled down over his face, pointed the Glock at her. Her eyes widened, and her book fell to the floor. “Please don’t hurt me. Please.” This had to be quick—with no room for error. He kept his gaze on the trembling teller. “Get your manager out here.” The office stood right behind the counter. “Ms. Allen!” The teller’s voice squeaked. “Ms. Allen, we need you up front.” Sam sidled around the side of the counter, keeping the gun pointed at Mary. Her face was white. Regular humans were so weak and easily frightened. How did they manage at all? Ms. Allen, her tall, skinny frame stuffed into a badly fitted navy suit, opened her door. “I’m right in the middle of—” Sam swung the gun in Ms. Allen’s direction. “Get over there.” He gestured toward the teller. “He’s going to rob…” Mary was whiter than before. Sweat beaded her brow. “Shut up.” He had to act the part and make them fear him. Ms. Allen, hands in the air, shuffled sideways toward the half door that led into the

teller area. “Please don’t hurt us. We’ll do whatever you want.” “First, I’m going to handcuff you two together.” He took a set of handcuffs from his front pants pocket. He snapped one cuff around Ms. Allen’s wrist, the other around Mary’s. “Then, I want you to lock the front doors and put up the closed sign.” The two women stood together, frozen in fear. “Now!” Ms. Allen jumped and moved like a cockroach in the light. Fast. Quick. Efficient. Just like any manager of the Arizona Sky Bank and Trust would have to be to work for Don Chambers. Sam squeezed the thought out of his head. He needed to keep his cool. He focused his attention on the two women. With Mary’s wrist connected to hers, Ms. Allen struggled to lock the doors’ multiple locks. The young teller appeared as if she was about to pass out. Sickly green. Just what he needed, a fainter. At least the manager seemed calm. The last lock snapped into place. Ms. Allen flipped the sign from OPEN to CLOSED. “Now, you’re going to unlock something for me.” A sweet honey voice from behind him said, “Hey, I ran out of nickel rolls. Do you think you could…?” Sam turned around in a flash. He scanned the luscious brunette from head to toe. Where did she come from? Maybe this wasn’t going to be such a quick job after all. * Holy fuck. A man, his face hidden behind a clown mask, pointed a gun at her. This must be the diamond thief who’d robbed the Bank of Iniquity over a month ago. Same MO from what she remembered in the paper. The clown mask, the handcuffed employees, the time of day. “Who the hell are…?” The robber seemed confused by her presence. Stumped. “Shit.” Behind that mask she could imagine the wheels turning, him wondering what to do with her. He must have expected only the two bank employees to be there. He’d missed her motorcycle on the east side of the building. He motioned at her with his weapon. “Lay down on the floor, face down, hands behind your head.” His gaze swept up her body and lingered on her breasts. She held her breath. His tight T-shirt showed off well-toned pecs, wide shoulders. Instead of being scared out of her wits, she was oddly calm. Although he’d made this robbery appear very similar to the earlier one, upon closer observation he didn’t fit the description she’d seen on TV. The other thief had a beer gut … this man was too lean and toned. Also, the original thief had left no fingerprints at the scene, and this guy wasn’t wearing gloves. Why would someone pretend to be a bank robber? He stepped forward and pressed down on her shoulder. “I said, get down on the floor.” His touch was heated and heavy on her naked skin. “Please don’t hurt me.” She knelt with her head bent. Although she was frightened, she couldn’t help but notice he wore tight, faded blue

jeans, a T-shirt that molded to his broad chest, and boots. Those boots—worn, but a work of art. Rich brown leather with a gorgeous tooled design of coyotes and cactus. “Shut up.” He snatched her purse off her shoulder. “Who in the hell are you anyway?” He dumped the contents on the floor. Her stash of one-dollar bills spilled to the floor along with her wallet. Her head bowed, she kept her gaze focused on those beautiful boots. “Interesting.” He scooped up her wallet and undid the snap. “So, Candy Kane … have a good weekend, did you?” “It’s Candace.” God, she hated that nickname. “And, yes, I had a pretty good weekend.” Even in the midst of her fear, she managed to keep her sense of humor. “So stripping is pretty lucrative even in a small town like this one, I see.” He stirred the pile of dollar bills with the tip of his boot. She snapped her head up to look at him. “A stripper? What in the hell gave you the idea that I was … that I was a…” “An exotic dancer?” the thief asked. “Oh, come now, Candy—as if that’s your real name—a pile of singles in your purse, the hot body…” Hot body? She felt the heat of a blush at his words. “Candace Kane is my real name, thank you very much.” * Sam itched to run his fingers through the brunette’s long silky hair. She had no idea how appealing she looked down there, kneeling in front of his crotch, her head tilted up. His dick swelled at the thought of what he could do with her pretty little mouth. She had surprised him … an unexpected player in this game of his. Her scent had instantly been attractive to him; spicy, exotic. The scent of a faraway land … not this dry empty desert. But she was human. A coyote shifter did not typically mate with humans. He glanced at her driver’s license again. Candy Kane. He couldn’t help but smile at that. Right. That’s her real name. Isn’t that what they all said? He should have left her on the floor, tied her up, but deep down he itched to touch her smooth skin. Feel her warmth. He couldn’t let her go just yet. “Well, Candy, I think I have some other plans for you. You’re coming with me.” He pulled her up from her very suggestive position. He pointed the gun at the handcuffed women and gripped the stripper’s elbow tightly. “You two, into the back closet. But first, Ms. Allen, I would like your keys to the safety deposit boxes please.” He held out his free hand. “But there’s hundreds in cash behind the teller window. You could be in and out of here in a few seconds…” “Give me the keys to the boxes.” He clicked the safety off his gun. Mary was round-eyed. The manager gaped. With a trembling hand Ms. Allen held out the ring of keys. They were going to make it so easy—just like the real robbery weeks ago. He hoped his research would pay off, or he’d expose the whole den to danger. He took the keys and pushed the handcuffed women toward the janitor’s closet in the back. From previous trips to the bank, he knew it locked from the outside. They’d be safe in there until someone came looking for them, which shouldn’t be too long.

The women sat on the tile floor next to a bucket and mop. “Now, just sit tight, ladies. This will all be over with soon. Like nothing ever happened.” Candy struggled in his grip. “Let me go. That hurts.” He shut the door on his captives, but not before pulling the cord to turn on the light inside. No point in making their stay in the closet even more frightening. To quiet Candy, he poked the barrel of the gun into her side. “Get moving, sweetheart, I need your help.”

Chapter Three The hard metal of the gun pressed against Candy’s ribs. What kind of help could she give this criminal? She was a bartender, not a locksmith. Ask for a whiskey sour or a highball, and she had it covered. But helping this muscular brute of a man steal from a bank? “Where are we going?” Goddamn it, her voice trembled. She didn’t want to show this guy any fear. “In the vault.” His heavy hand rested on her shoulder, and he pushed her in the direction of the thick steel door across from the closet. Her feet stumbled, and he caught her around the waist. His fingers burned into her. A flutter rippled down low in her stomach. He slid his fingers up under her breast. Her nipple hardened in anticipation. Anticipation of what? This guy was no good. Why couldn’t her stupid libido get turned on by Mark, the nerdy engineer who lived below her apartment? Or Tony, the delivery truck driver? He might be dumb as a rock, but he was harmless. Not like this guy … with his gun and bulging biceps. He’d probably pin her down on the mattress and fuck her senseless before she even knew what hit her. No. No. She wouldn’t think of this guy like that. Naked. Dripping sweat. The tight muscles of his buttocks clenched as he buried his dick inside her. He manhandled her into the vault. “Candy,” he whispered into her hair. “I got a thing for sweets.” He’d pulled off his mask. She could feel his lips touching her neck. “Anyone ever tell you you smell like pineapples?” He nuzzled her neck. Through the haze of fear, a plan began to form. It’d worked with Chambers. She’d made it appear as if she was interested in him, got what she wanted, and then played hard to get. Why wouldn’t that work with this brute too? She leaned into him, pretending to be open to his advances. His fingers tickled the underside of one breast. He was buying it. The gun disappeared from its place between her ribs. In fact, he now moved a second hand to cup her other breast. The gun was gone. It might be her only chance to… She grabbed his wrist, spun around, and bent it backward, just like her dad had taught her. Pressure points. It didn’t take a lot of strength to bring down even the biggest opponent. If you did it right, that is. She faced him now. He had short dark hair, a well-trimmed goatee, and eyes as blue as … well, as blue as anything she’d ever seen. And those eyes were laughing at her. Laughing? Uh-oh. He hadn’t cried out in pain. He hadn’t crumbled to his knees. He smiled. His free hand grabbed both her wrists, in essence taking the power out of her defensive grasp. Then he pulled her up close to his body, his mammoth chest as solid as rock. “I’m not gonna hurt you, Candy. I just want a little sweetness.” His mouth descended on hers. Within moments, he’d teased her lips open with his tongue and ravaged her mouth.

With her wrists in his grasp, she could do nothing. She was trapped against his rockhard chest. His goatee tickled the edges of her lips. And the smell of him—God, he smelled delicious. She breathed him in. Leather and linseed oil. Against all reason, her heart skipped a beat and the heat grew between her legs. She didn’t want this. He was a criminal. She only let him have his way with her in order to form an escape plan. But goddamn it if he didn’t kiss very, very well. Too well. When he sucked on her tongue her defenses crumbled. She moaned into his mouth, wanting the kiss to go on and on. His free hand grabbed her ass and pulled her closer. His erection pressed into her abdomen. Jesus, this was crazy. His lips were warm and soft, and the way he teased her mouth open wider with that tongue of his… A shiver ran through her body. He stroked her backside, and her knees went weak. If this was wrong, she just didn’t care. The thief broke off the kiss abruptly. Candace panted and stared at him. Frozen. Unsure what she was supposed to do. How she was supposed to feel. “Now, Candy, baby, why don’t you dance for me?” He shut the door behind them. * Sam’s plan had been so simple. Get in, get what he came for, and get out. Quick. Fast. Easy. No one gets hurt. He’d be out the door ten minutes before the cops ever got word there was a robbery. But damn the coyote half of him. The shape-shifting wilder half. That part of him saw a potential mate … smelled a potential mate … and all bets were off. He hadn’t expected Candy Kane to be here, and he hadn’t expected to be attracted to a human female. But just the sight of her in the tight jeans and the even tighter white tank top stretched across those tits of hers, and he lost control. The last thing he needed was to shift here in front of her. Give away his secret. His shifter self had to stay under wraps. So, he’d just have to work it out of his system. Lucky for him she worked as a stripper. She must be used to performing, used to the attention of strange men. Not like he’d be the first criminal she’d fucked. Oh, and she was going to be fucking him any minute. That kiss told him as much. She was good. Better than he thought she’d be. With her sweet scent, like a tropical isle. Her lips were soft and generous—the kind that wanted to be kissed. Anytime. All the time. He leaned against the door of the vault. “You heard me, dance. Show me what you can do.” “I told you, I’m no stripper.” Candy crossed her arms over those lovely, lovely tits. Inside, he could feel his control bubbling over. His breathing grew shallow, almost like a pant. He had to have her soon, or it would be too late. Plus, the longer he waited, the less time he had to finish his mission. “Just pretend like I’m any other customer.” He moved toward her. “You can call me

Sam.” Her gaze slipped from his eyes down to his mouth. She did want him. He knew it. Her hesitation had been a put-on. Part of the game. His dick jumped. “I’m not a stripper.” Her protest grew weaker. Her arms uncrossed, and he could see her nipples tight and hard under the tank top. He took one step closer. They were now inches apart. He reached for the waistband of her jeans. “Why don’t I get you started?” She grabbed both his arms and bit her lip. “I don’t want … I mean, I’m not … this isn’t happening.” Even though she pretended to be unsure, she let him slide his hand inside the front of her jeans. Her stomach was hot against his fingers. Inches below her wet, hot pussy waited for him. Underneath that tropical sweetness he could smell her arousal. His balls tightened. He unsnapped her jeans. “There now, was that so hard? Dance for me, Candy.” He’d expected her to fall into her role. What difference did it make where they were and who he was? She was an exotic dancer. This should come second nature to her. Showing her tits was no big deal. She did it every day. But she just stood there, her jeans unsnapped, as redness filled her cheeks. Her eyelids fluttered, and her gaze burned into his. Not the reaction of a seasoned stripper. The look in her eyes was part panic, part pain. The same look he’d seen months ago in someone else’s eyes, right before Don Chambers shot her twice without even a blink. * Candy trembled. Even if she wanted to pretend for this robber that she was some kind of stripper, she couldn’t move. Her body froze in place. Pure panic rippled through her. The touch of his hand against her bare stomach had been like a red-hot brand. She’d felt the electricity between them. Her instinctual reaction to a strong, handsome, virile male. No matter if this particular male had threatened her at gunpoint and forced her into the vault. She waited for him to start undressing her himself. To tear her clothes from her body. Force her to strip down for him, humiliate herself for him. But he didn’t. He just stood there. His gaze assessing her, his brows knit with some kind of emotion she couldn’t recognize. “I’m sorry.” Her captor put up his hands in a surrender pose, his gun hanging upside down from one thumb. “I don’t know what I’m doing. This isn’t … I didn’t mean to.” He grabbed the gun by its muzzle and set it on top of a metal table in the middle of the vault. “See? I don’t want to hurt you. This is all a big mistake.” He took deep breaths. Weren’t his eyes blue before? Now they flashed an eerie shade of green. Like nothing she’d ever seen. “I’m not a stripper,” she said one last time, before snapping her jeans closed and taking a step back. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She glanced from his strange eyes to the gun on the table. Her mind began to run through the possibilities. If he didn’t want to hurt her, maybe he wouldn’t rob the bank either. Maybe he was changing his mind. Maybe he would just leave, and she could

continue on with her life as if nothing ever happened, forget she’d ever found this criminal attractive for even the shortest of moments. “Can I go then?” She glanced at the closed vault door. Escape waited a few steps away. “No, I can’t let you go, Candy. I’m sorry.” “It’s Candace. I like to be called Candace.” The words came out automatically. The speech she’d given her whole life. Hearing it echo inside the insulated vault made it seem so ridiculous, so unimportant. What did it matter what he called her? “Candace, yes.” He smirked. “Guess your parents had a sense of humor, huh?” “They thought they did.” He cleared his throat. “Look, unfortunately, I have a job to do, so I’m going to have to tie you up.” From his back pocket, he whipped out a length of clothesline. “What?” She backed up against the wall of safety deposit boxes behind her. “I thought you said you needed my help?” His eyes were blue again. What in the hell was going on? Was her stress-addled brain getting the best of her? He took a careful step toward her. “I needed your help a few minutes ago. Now I think I can handle it.” An odd wisp of a smile appeared. “What I need from you is cooperation. Let me tie you up, and you can get out of this unhurt.” “You won’t get away with this.” He grabbed her wrists and pulled her toward him. “Is that right?” He turned her, brought her arms behind her back, and whipped the clothesline securely around them. “Ow, that hurts.” He loosened her bonds a centimeter. “There are cameras out in the lobby, and I’m sure some confused customer is going to start banging on that front door any minute.” “I see.” His body pressed against hers. She could feel the heat of him behind her. Damn her body for reacting to it. Her breasts were heavy, her breath rapid. If it weren’t for the fact she was tied up and he was a bad guy… Well, what, Candace? What exactly would she do? Fuck this stranger with the sexy goatee and hard sculpted biceps? A small part of her brain squeaked out yes. “You aren’t worried I’ll identify you? The police will be all over you before you’re halfway out of town.” She tried her best to get her emotions under control. He laughed and pushed her down to the floor. “I don’t think so, sweetheart.” Arms bound behind her, the awkward positioning forced her to thrust her chest forward to sit comfortably. His blue gaze focused in on her breasts. Her panties grew damp. For a split second, she thought about what would have happened if she’d stripped for him. Revealed her naked flesh to that intense gaze. “So let’s get this over with,” she said. His gaze jumped up to her face. “What?” “This robbery thing.” “I know what I’m doing. If you think a little T and A is going to distract me…” He faced the rows of safety deposit boxes and took a tiny key out of his front pocket. “If you had a key, why didn’t you just…?” “Shut up.” Her captor searched the rows. “Seven ninety-three, seven ninety-three.” He slid the key into one of the drawers and turned it.

Chapter Four As Sam turned the key the lock pinged. Hopefully, Chambers would be asleep around the same time tonight, and he could slip it back onto his key ring before anyone was the wiser. Being a shape-shifter had its advantages. For a moment he forgot about the gorgeous woman on the floor. This was his prize. His goal. The drawer slid open. Inside were stacks of cash, hundred-dollar bills still bound in their wrappers from the mint. He pawed past them. It had to be in here. He’d been through Chambers’s house a dozen times over the past few months. Always at night. Always in coyote form. That last time, he’d overheard a conversation between Don Chambers and one of his buddies. Bragging about how he’d kept it. Where he kept it. Sam had wanted to rip him to shreds right then, but his human side won that argument. The last thing he needed was to draw more attention to his den. More scrutiny about the last few of his kind. His family had lived on the outskirts of town for generations now, some shifters more involved in society than others. Once his father had died, though, and the shifter bloodline risked dying out, Sam and his brothers had decided to stay well away from full humans. With Greta at his side that had been possible. They had a future ahead of them. Plans for a family. A way to keep the bloodline going. Don Chambers had ended all those dreams, the fucker. All he had left of his beautiful Greta was this one precious thing. He felt the cool metal against his fingers before he saw it. When he drew it out, Candace gasped. “That’s beautiful.” A gold anklet hung from his fingers; a dozen tiny diamonds sparkled even under the cold fluorescent lighting. The last time he’d seen it, Greta wore it around her slender ankle. Whether in human or coyote form, she could always wear it. God, how he missed her. She’d been the only female left, and she’d chosen him as her mate. And he’d failed to protect her. He’d never forgive himself for that. He closed his fist around the delicate gold chain. “That’s all you came for? All this, for a piece of jewelry?” “Shut up.” He tucked the precious piece into his front jeans pocket. As he locked the drawer, he tried to lock up his feelings as well, but sorrow came rushing back. The hurt. The anger. He punched his fist against the metal front of the box. The bang echoed in the small space like an explosion. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.” With each word, he pounded his fist into the metal. Harder each time. The surface abraded his knuckles, but he didn’t care. The pain felt good. It numbed everything else inside him. “Jesus, stop it!” Candace yelled. “What are you doing?” He barely heard her. He continued to pound his fist until the blood flowed. He leaned his forehead against the wall of safety deposit boxes. Even with all the anger and the pain, he couldn’t get rid of the heavy ache in his chest. “Greta,” he whispered, “why did you leave me?” *

Candace couldn’t believe her eyes. Her tough, gun-wielding captor was crying. After pounding the hell out of the safety deposit boxes and bloodying up his knuckles, a shudder of emotion rippled through his tall frame. “Who is Greta?” Maybe getting him to talk about it would make him rethink this whole robbery. Maybe he’d even let her go. “It doesn’t matter.” He rubbed his bloodied knuckles on his jeans. “She’s dead.” “Dead?” A twinge of sympathy pricked at her heart. “I’m so sorry. It’s obvious she meant a lot to you.” He whipped his head around. “That bastard killed her.” “Who?” “Don Chambers—he owns this bank.” “What?” She thought she knew Don Chambers, one of those middle-aged types who thought he could have any woman he wanted just because he had money. But this? Killing somebody? “I don’t believe you.” “Believe it. I saw it with my own eyes. A shotgun blast to the back.” His brow wrinkled at the memory. “He shot her in the back? My God…” All these months she’d thought Chambers was harmless, just another guy who wanted to get in her pants. But somehow she knew the thief was telling the truth. His grief was too palpable, his emotion too real. This sudden revelation—that Chambers was capable of this kind of violence—chilled her to her core. “He’s not going to get away with it…” His eyes were that strange green color again. “What’s wrong with your eyes?” Something was very odd here. “They were blue and now they’re…” He turned away from her. “It must be the light.” “It’s not the light. Your eyes changed color. Who are you?” The vault felt smaller than it had a moment ago. The lights a little too bright. The ceiling a little too low. “What are you?” The words slipped out of her mouth before she gave it any thought. “What do I look like to you?” The strong line of his shoulders beneath the tight white T-shirt distracted her. “A man?” He faced her. His eyes were bright, bright green now. “I’m not a man, Candy.” Fangs flashed in his mouth. She gasped. He crept toward her. “You have a scent … one I find very appealing. When that happens, I need something, sweetheart. Something only you can give.” Candace felt like the floor had dropped out from underneath her. Was he a werewolf? Some other ghastly creature? She mentally shook her head at herself. Werewolves? Come on. The change in his appearance was slight. The eyes, the teeth, a certain swagger to his walk. Her heart thudded like a drum. He gave off sparks of sex appeal. She was tied up on the floor and totally at his mercy, and God help her, she liked it. He grabbed her around the waist and flung her over his shoulder. His body was hot against hers, his grip tight and sure across the backs of her thighs. “If you’re not a man, what are you?” He stroked a hand over her ass and desire rippled through her. “I’m the one who’s going to fuck your brains out.”

Chapter Five Candy Kane squirmed on his shoulder. She weighed no more than a sack of flour. A curvy, gorgeous sack of flour. His dick hardened at the thought of seeing this woman naked, legs parted, wet and willing. She was the complete opposite of Greta. His mate had been slender and blonde. Sweet-natured and trusting. This dark-haired large-breasted honey was 100 percent spitfire. And her tropical scent drove him mad. He thought he had it under control—the lusty thoughts that came with the right scent. But the emotional weakness from Greta’s memory allowed his shifter side to swoop in and take control. And that side wanted sex. In one smooth motion, he lifted her off his shoulder and laid her on the freestanding table. He could sense desire in her or he wouldn’t have acted. Her scent told him many things. Not just that she was female or that they were a good pairing, but that she was turned on by his presence. She wasn’t nearly as afraid as she thought she was. Somewhere deep down inside she trusted him. For some reason, she knew he wasn’t bad, that he wasn’t going to hurt her. All in a scent. A single whiff of her sweetness, and he knew. “What are you?” Even though she probably had an inkling he wasn’t human, he wasn’t ready to confess to this woman. This mate. He climbed on the table and hunkered above her on all fours. Her hands were still bound behind her back. Her shoulders, lightly browned by the desert sun, rolled back. Her chest was thrust forward. He took a finger and trailed it down her neck, down to the edge of her tank top. “You are supposed to be mine. I know it. I can sense it.” He traced the tops of her breasts. Candy licked her lips. She laughed a very unconvincing laugh. “You can sense it … right.” He swooped in for a kiss, cutting off her sarcastic remark. He nibbled at the edges of her mouth. She tasted even better than she smelled. Groaning into her mouth, he teased her lips open with his tongue. While he kept her mouth busy, he squeezed her breast lightly. The nipple hardened instantly under the cotton fabric of her tank top. Most telling of all, she didn’t flinch or attempt to pull away. He took that bit of body language to be an affirmation of what he already sensed in her scent: she wanted to mate as well. He kissed her once more then trailed a line of kisses down her jaw and her neck. He yanked down one strap to bare her breast and sucked on her nipple. Candy groaned and bucked underneath him. He kept her still by holding on to her shoulders. Her nipple tightened in his mouth. He nibbled on it. “God, that feels good.” Her words came out strained. Her legs spread apart, letting him know she was open to this coupling. He nestled his hips between them with an erection as hard as concrete. He backed off her nipple, licking it with the tip of his tongue. Teasing more groans out of her. He kissed across her chest, pulled her top down farther, and bared the other peak. This time, he hovered just above her nipple. “Who are you, Candy?” He licked it once. “Why do I want to fuck you so badly?” He licked it again.

Candy writhed. “Oh God.” He reached between them and unsnapped her jeans. “I wasn’t looking for another mate.” He tugged down the zipper. “But your scent. I can’t resist you.” He smoothed his hand down her stomach to the edge of her panties. “I need to feel your pussy around me.” His fingers teased beneath the silky fabric. “Do you want me to fuck you, Candy?” “Yes.” Her body twitched under his touch. The scent of her arousal drove him over the edge. He tested the tips of his fangs with his tongue. Yes, she was his mate. She had to be. Only a true mate could bring out the change in him. He parted her labia and stroked the folds of warm, moist flesh he found there. “You have such a nice pussy, sweetheart. Do you want me to make you come with my fingers?” He pinched her clit lightly. “Or should I lick you until you scream?” Her legs parted even wider. He slicked two fingers between her folds and into her opening. She sighed. “Ah, so tight, Candy.” His fingers thrust inside her. “So very, very tight.” He stopped and spread his fingers apart, opening her more widely. “Untie me,” she groaned. “Please.” He’d forgotten about her restraints, he’d been so focused on her lush body and how it responded to him—like a shifter mate in heat. “Not yet, sweetheart.” He removed his fingers and tugged off her shoes and jeans. Now all she wore was a pair of white panties, and a tank top that was pulled down around her waist, her chest still thrust high, her nipples tight pink peaks. “I like you this way.” She moaned, but she spread her legs farther apart—an invitation for more. The light fabric of her panties creased between her folds. In one smooth motion, he ripped them away and swooped in, licking her between her legs. Her scent in his nose, her intimate moisture on his tongue. She was his mate. He ate her pussy as if it were ambrosia. His tongue worried her clit, the bud growing in size. Candy raised her hips. He slid his hands under her ass and pulled her toward him. He couldn’t stop. She tasted so good. His licking intensified. His tongue pressed hard against her sensitive folds. Cream leaked out of her. He lapped it up. Tasting, teasing, wanting more, needing more. “Don’t stop, Sam,” she sighed. “Oh God, I’m going to come. Don’t stop.” She grunted when his tongue pressed against her clit. “Yes…” Her hips rose up once more to meet his mouth, and she stiffened under him. A scream of pure satisfaction burst out of her. He held her there. His hands gripped around the firmness of her ass; his tongue pressed against her clit. Her scream echoed in the small lead-lined chamber. Her muscles relaxed. He pulled back and took in one last whiff of her. His dick throbbed painfully. This wasn’t over yet. He shucked off his pants. * Okay, how did she go from scared captive to very willing sex partner? Candace had been licked to orgasm by a thief. A shudder ran through her. Licked to one fucking intense orgasm by a thief. Her head was muddled, and her arms ached behind her back. Her lower half, however, was as relaxed as a cooked piece of spaghetti.

Before she had a chance to think, he lifted her, spun her around, and sat her spreadeagled across his lap. His cock, erect and insistent, stuck up between them. Her pussy felt wide open and ready for more. His scent was a combination of peppermint and leather. Intoxicating. In fact, she’d never met a man with a scent so attractive. Face to face, she gazed straight into his odd green eyes. “Who are you?” He cut her ties with a quick motion of his pocketknife. “Does it matter?” He pulled his hips back and lined up his cock with her opening. She wrapped her tingling arms around his neck. “Fuck no.” She pressed down and forward, his dick impaling her. He sucked in his breath. “Jesus.” She rocked forward, driving his hard instrument deeper inside. Using the table for support, she crouched, raising and lowering herself. He met her motions with hard thrusts of his own. She’d never double climaxed before. Her body moved on its own, speeding up or slowing down the motion in order to get the best feel. When his cock rubbed against her inside walls at just the right spot, she felt an urgency deep inside. She moved more frantically, trying to recreate the right motion. He caught on to her needs and matched her movements with hard thrusts of his own. She gripped his shoulders, the climax just within her reach. Just there. One more thrust. “Harder!” She pounded her body against his, the friction of his cock inside her creating an exquisite sensation. Just a little more. “Harder!” He met her wild movements with perfection. One last thrust, and she fell over the edge again. A keening cry escaped her lips as she rode out the orgasm. Her partner, still thrusting to satiate his own desires, milked her response for as long as he could. “Candy, I’m going to come.” She held him close. His face pressed against her naked breasts. He pushed into her once more, and his seed filled her. A hot jet of release.

Chapter Six Sam held her to him for several moments after he climaxed, not wanting to let go. She felt so right in his arms. He hadn’t mated since Greta’s death over nine months ago. That had to be why she’d spurred the beginnings of the shift in him. Pure lust. Pure sexual need. When his body shuddered for the last time, Candy jumped off his lap. Cum dripped down her leg. The naked curves of her sweet body enticed him. She pulled the tank top up over her breasts. “That was a mistake.” She grabbed her jeans off the floor and shimmied into them. “I shouldn’t have … we shouldn’t have … I need to go.” She blinked at him. “Your eyes, they’re blue again. And your teeth. I thought I saw … but that can’t be.” She shook her head and backed away from him. He sat naked on the table. “Is there a problem?” “Problem? I don’t typically screw a complete stranger … who’s a bank robber, mind you … and possibly … something else.” She seemed to be having difficulty wrapping her head around Sam’s true nature. “I’m not like that. Got it?” She rubbed her wrist absentmindedly. He’d hurt her with the rope. “I’m sorry.” “Sorry? You’d better not be diseased or virile or whatever.” Sam quirked a smile at “virile.” “Shifters have difficulty procreating.” “What do you mean, ‘shifters’?” Fear lingered in her eyes, but she was listening. Any normal woman under these circumstances would probably be screaming or fainting by now. He started to dress. She’d already seen the change in him, had mated with him; the best chance for testing her out as a mate would be to tell her the truth. See if she could handle it. Since she was not a shape-shifter or a member of a den, he could then easily claim her as a mate. There would be no challenges. Decades had passed since a shapeshifter coupled with a human, but it wasn’t unheard of. “I’m a shape-shifter. I can change from human form into a coyote. So was Greta. That’s why Chambers shot her. He saw her shift.” She laughed uneasily. “A coyote? You’re telling me that you can turn into an animal? You’ve got to be kidding me.” The strength of their bond surprised him. Deep down he knew Candy wasn’t a onetime screw. With a den empty of females, he and his brothers were destined to take human mates. In times of desperation, Mother Nature took over. Finding a human scent appealing was new to him. Exciting. His cock grew heavy. He could take her again right now, if she’d let him. “You saw the shift. At least some of it. My eyes, my teeth. Sometimes if I don’t mate when I’m in that state, I can slip into coyote form within minutes. Sexual arousal reduces my control over the shift.” Her eyes widened. “Your eyes are green again…” He stalked toward her. The words were inconsequential. He focused on her mouth, the way her lips formed the words, and the round curves of her hips. Sweet. Luscious. She crossed her arms over her breasts protectively. Hiding those lovely curves from view wouldn’t stop him. It only made him want her more. “That was a one-time thing,

buddy. Hormones or whatever getting out of control. Um, don’t you have a bank to rob?” He grabbed her arm. She sucked in her breath. “I need you. Your body keeps calling to me. Can’t you feel it?” He pulled her toward him. “Hey, hey.” She fought against his grip. “I said, stop.” Sam backed off. “I can’t help it, sweetheart.” Her scent might be calling to him, but she wasn’t ready for that yet and time was ticking away. He’d wasted enough of it already on his baser instincts. She bristled. “I am not your ‘sweetheart.’ I’m a grown woman who is getting the fuck out of this town and away from men—shifters—whatever the hell you are, and not looking back.” Sam’s protective instincts kicked into gear. She was his new mate. He knew it. He wouldn’t let her walk out of his life that easily. “You will stay.” Her eyes flashed. “Excuse me? I don’t think you have any say in what I do, where I go.” She grabbed her keys, scooped her dollar bills and wallet into her bag, and headed for the vault door. “Let me out of this place, or I swear I’ll…” Sam pointed his gun at her. “I don’t think so, Candy.” She turned, spied the gun, and snarled, “Call me Candace.”

Chapter Seven Sam and Candace were in a standoff. He pointed the gun at her. She kept one hand on the vault door handle. She wanted so much to open the door, run back to her motorcycle, and drive out of town. Today. Who cared about saving the last few hundred she needed to buy that sailboat? To the right of the vault door, she noticed a red button. A little thing. Now why would there be a button right there? Red usually meant emergency … could she be that lucky? She reached out and pressed it before he could move. Sam’s eyes widened. “No!” But it was too late. The blare of an alarm sounded. “Shit, why did you do that?” They both knew the answer to that question. Sam stuck his gun in the waistband of his jeans. With a frenetic pace, he gathered his things. With the threat of the gun gone, Candace moved quickly. She pulled down on the handle and the heavy door swung open. “Wait!” He slammed the open safety deposit box back into the wall of boxes and chased after her. “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me. You pressed the damn alarm button, for God’s sake, but can you do one thing for me?” “What?” Through the big glass windows in front she anxiously looked down the road for the squadron of cop cars that should be headed their way any second. She was in shock. This whole event—the gun in her face, the robbery, the sex—overwhelmed her. What in the hell was she doing here with this guy? Why was she even listening to him? This was nuts. Shape-shifters and murdering men and guns… ”Don’t let Don Chambers know I was here.” Seeing the police cars barreling down the road toward them brought her back to reality. The first black-and-white flew through a red light. They were only minutes away. “You’re going to jail.” “Just promise me…” When she turned back to face him, Sam had disappeared. In his place stood a shaggy dusty brown coyote next to a pile of clothes and that interesting pair of boots. The animal pawed at her leg. In a daze, she walked to the front door, unlocked it, and let the creature out. He hadn’t made it up. He was a shape-shifter. Had the rest of his story been true as well? A sparkle of something metallic and shiny caught her eye—the anklet. In a flash she scooped up the bit of jewelry and tucked it in her purse. The coyote hesitated just outside the door, watching her, then it took off behind the bank and disappeared into the desert beyond. Hurriedly, she stuffed his clothes and boots into the trash bin by the door. ****

Sam loped across the hot pavement. He’d made it safely out of the bank. When he reached the line of boulders on the ridge he thought about the mistake he’d made. The anklet. Fuck. He’d gone to all this trouble to steal it back—the only tangible thing left behind by Greta—and he’d left it there. He leapt behind the boulder and shifted back into human form. The hot desert winds blew across his naked body. On his hands and knees with his face to the ground, sorrow hit him in the gut like a physical blow. All those weeks of planning, and he’d blown it. What a fool. He hadn’t counted on Candy. She’d turned him upside down with her irresistible scent. One whiff, and he had been lost. Now here in the desert he had no anklet, no clothes. The last decent pair of jeans he owned, his only pair of boots … fuck. From his hiding place on the ridge, the police sirens were muted. He should shift and head for home. He’d messed up his chances. The risk he’d taken had been a stupid one, but it had all made sense to him at the time. Grief had manipulated him. And that same grief had made him spill his guts to a complete stranger, reveal his true nature and his plans for revenge. Humans were not supposed to know about shifters. Greta had been killed because of a stupid mistake like that. Chambers had seen her shift from coyote into human and shot her out of fear and ignorance. Sam had dropped that anklet right in front of Candy, and he’d watched her pick it up. He could track her down easily. Not as if there would be more than one “Candace Kane” in the Iniquity phone book. First, though, he needed to get back to his den, find some other clothes, and make plans. He couldn’t let any of his brother shifters find out what he’d been up to today. Exposing himself in such a public way was forbidden. It only brought risk to them all. But his brothers would never have agreed to his plan. They just didn’t understand the ache of loss, the desperate need to have Greta back. To have any piece of her back. It might be some stupid bit of jewelry to them, but to Sam it symbolized his love for his mate. He couldn’t stand the thought of Don Chambers touching the beautiful gold and diamond anklet with his murdering hands. So, tonight after the rest of the den fell asleep, he’d sneak away and find Candy. Take back what was his. The memory of her hot heat shot an unexpected jolt of desire straight to his groin. Candy. Sweet and delicious. She’d been so warm and willing. A human. Who knew they could be such satisfying mates? Candy had been as wild as any shifter female in heat. But she wasn’t Greta. He forced his mind to clear, his body to settle. Candy had been a convenient body for his needs, nothing more. His crazy thoughts about convincing her to be a human mate were only that—crazy thoughts. That would

never work. Greta had been his mate, and he would be true to her memory. The moment in the vault had been beyond his control. A momentary lapse. That was it. Now that he had Candy out of his system, he could move on with his plans for revenge. Sam shifted and disappeared over the ridge, the sirens fading in the distance. **** Candace had been detained at the police station for hours. Two officers had questioned her about her time with the thief and drilled her for a description. When the police first showed up at the bank, she had been ready to spill everything. Okay, maybe not the sex part. But what Sam looked like, his name, why he’d been there. She’d locked all the details in her brain. She’d thought Sam was crazy. Although she’d seen his eyes change to that odd green color and thought she’d seen the points of some crazy-long canine teeth, she hadn’t believed his story about being a shape-shifter. None of it, actually. The whole thing had seemed like some ridiculous tale made up under pressure. Sam hadn’t expected her to be there; she’d rattled him. It’d be understandable if he’d made mistakes with his lies when he’d been forced to take her hostage. However, at the very last minute, she’d witnessed it. The change. Sam had been human one moment and a coyote the next. She couldn’t deny that part of his story was true—the most fantastical element to his tale. To believe Chambers had killed his girlfriend—or his mate, as he called her—wasn’t all that much of a leap after that reveal. If the shape-shifter part had been real, believing the rest was fairly simple. So she’d decided. In those three minutes between Sam shifting and the cop cars arriving, she’d decided. The police would get some of the truth from her, but not all of it. Quickly, she’d found the surveillance recording of the bank lobby, ejected the tapes, and hid them in her purse to dispose of later. Not only was her act of hiding his clothes and boots on tape, but his shifting. If Chambers murdered Greta because he saw her shift, imagine what a police department would do if they found out shape-shifters existed. Sam would be the target of more than just one man. Sam had left the clown mask behind in the vault, so it had been easy to convince them not only was Sam the bank robber who’d plagued the town several weeks earlier, but she’d never gotten a good look at his face. The two bank employees had backed up her story with descriptions of their own. Now she waited in the station for someone to type up her statement, print it out, and have her sign it. As she sat there, Don Chambers, his jowly cheeks puffed up and his face red, burst into the station. “How did this happen? You incompetent idiots.” An officer tried to lead him into one of the offices for a more private discussion, but Chambers shrugged him off. “One bank robbery in this town was bad enough. But two? Where were your men? Why weren’t they doing extra patrols to make sure something like this didn’t happen again?” The sheriff himself pulled Chambers aside. “You should be thanking your manager for keeping her head on straight and not letting anyone get hurt. Thank God the alarm was tripped. He only had time to open one safety deposit box.” Chambers stilled. “Just one?” “Uh-huh.” The sheriff opened a manila folder in his hand. “Number seven ninety-

three. We don’t have any information on the owner yet or an inventory to find out if anything was taken; that’s one of the reasons we wanted you to come down to the station.” “Seven ninety-three?” Chambers paled. “Do you know who it belongs to?” “Me. That fucker stole from me.” He was livid. “Would you mind letting Officer Blankenship know the contents of the box? We think most of the contents are there, but we want to be sure.” “How did he get my key?” Chambers seemed to be talking to himself. “He can’t open it without a key.” He fumbled in his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. His face went white as a sheet. “He took the master set from Ms. Allen. This was well-planned; he knew exactly how you operated.” The sheriff scratched the back of his neck. “This wasn’t quite the way the other robbery played out, though. We’re still not convinced it’s the same man.” Chambers stared at him. “Oh really?” “The witness who was with him in the vault didn’t give us much of a description. He wore the same clown mask, but there are some details that don’t quite match.” “There’s a witness?” Chambers narrowed his eyes. “I thought one of your men told me that Ms. Allen and that teller—” “Mary Perkins.” “Yes, Mary. I heard they were locked away in the closet.” “Ms. Kane over there”—the sheriff nodded in her direction—“she spent a good portion of the robbery with the man.” Candace ducked her head and slunk down in her chair. “Ms. Kane? Candace Kane?” Chambers swung his beady-eyed gaze in her direction. His eye twitched. “I want a look at those security tapes.” Candace trembled. Chambers might not know she’d lied to the sheriff, but he sure as hell knew it was Sam who’d stolen from him. She could see it in the bank owner’s eyes when the sheriff had mentioned the safety deposit box number. Sam had taken Ms. Allen’s set of keys, but Candace distinctly remembered him pulling out his own key. It must’ve been Chambers’s. Shit. At least she’d had time to take the tapes or the rest of the world would’ve known Sam was a shape-shifter. “The machine was empty. He must’ve taken them.” When Chambers followed the sheriff into his office to discuss the matter further, Candace let out the breath she’d been holding. For his own safety Sam needed to know Chambers would be after him … very soon. But how would she track him down? A coyote shape-shifter who lived somewhere out in the desert. Impossible. Inside, her stomach was tied in knots. She’d been the distraction that had kept him from his plan. He’d only meant to take back what was his; he never meant to harm anyone. It had all been an act. The minute he’d transformed into that coyote, she knew what he told her had been true. If she couldn’t find him, Chambers surely would.

Chapter Eight Holy fuck. Sam had screwed things up royally. He loped through the desert toward his family’s den—a ramshackle ranch house on the far side of Javelina Canyon. His plan had been to make it out of the bank with the anklet and his disguise intact. After weeks of effort to guarantee the least amount of risk to him and his brothers, not only did he abandon his plan, but he’d transformed on camera. The minute the cops watched those tapes, he’d expose his whole den to scrutiny. His coyote shifter clan had survived for decades unnoticed in this desert back country. Although such an isolated life had been rough, they’d always felt secure they’d go unnoticed. They took precautions. But Sam had broken the rules. He’d let his anger and his hurt from Greta’s loss rule his decisions. Stupid. The ultimate blow had been leaving the anklet behind—the very reason for the robbery in the first place. “Sam, where’ve you been?” Cody, his youngest brother, leaned against one of the beams that supported the flat roof of the porch and whittled a scrap of wood. “Not like you to slip away so early.” Sam transformed into his human self. Cody grabbed a blanket off a bench on the porch and tossed it to him. Cody had an even temper and a kind heart. His brother hadn’t grasped the depth of Sam’s anger when Greta was killed, and Cody surely wouldn’t understand what had motivated him to take such a big risk today. “Just needed to get away. Have time to myself.” His brother nodded and kept his focus on the rabbit taking shape in his hands. “Derek’s inside. He wants to talk to you about something.” “Oh?” Sam knew he had something to discuss with Derek as well. Derek was one year older than Sam and considered himself the one in charge of their den. With the same hair-trigger temper, they’d come to blows before over disagreements. He imagined this time would be no different. Sam passed by his quieter brother and entered the house. “Where the fuck have you been?” Derek sat with his feet propped on a dinged-up kitchen table. Since Greta’s death over nine months ago, their homestead had slid into the sloppiness of bachelorhood. Dishes sat on the table and in the sink, garbage overflowed the can, and dried mud was smeared across the floorboards. Sam headed directly for a stack of clean clothes on the sofa. He pulled on a pair of khaki pants. “None of your business.” Derek grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around. “Anything that happens in this den is my business. Breaking the rules is what got Greta killed. Remember?” Anger roared to life inside Sam. He pulled back his fist and popped his brother in the jaw. Derek’s head snapped back and his eyes bugged out. Derek shoved him. Sam tumbled over the back of the sofa and hit his head on the leg of the coffee table.

“Where have you been?” Derek stood over him. “What shit did you bring down on us now?” He tightened his hands into fists. “Fuck you.” Sam touched his head. When he brought his hand in front of his eyes, he saw blood. “You are such a bastard, little brother.” He grabbed a T-shirt from the pile of clean clothes and tossed it at Sam. “There are rules in place for a reason. You know that. When Dad was alive you didn’t seem to have a problem with them.” Sam got up, took the T-shirt, and pressed it to the wound on the back of his head. “I had to do it. You wouldn’t understand.” “What wouldn’t I understand? Your need to self-destruct? All of us are hurting over Greta. By God, we all loved her. But she chose to go to Chambers’s ranch that day … she took on that risk.” “She thought she’d seen another shifter.” Derek shook his head. “There aren’t any more of us. Dad told us. This den is it. She was seeing things.” Sam headed for the freezer to get some ice for his aching head. “She was my mate. I believed her then, and I believe her now.” He dropped several cubes into a towel and held it against the wound. “If Dad thought there might be more of us, don’t you think he would’ve done the same?” Derek threw up his hands. “So, you still didn’t answer my question; where were you this morning?” Stonewalling was getting him nowhere. Derek was no idiot. Why hide what he’d done? With the taped evidence of his shifting, Derek and his brothers had a right to know he’d put them in danger. “I went to town for Greta’s anklet … Chambers’s bank.” “In the middle of the morning?” Derek eyes grew wide. “Are you insane?” Sam leaned against the kitchen counter. He had trouble saying the words. “It gets worse. They caught me shifting on camera.” Now that he’d told his brother, he felt miserable. His plan had been ridiculously risky. Derek was right; he was insane. He had to make it right. “I’m going to go back tonight…” “Fuck no. You’re staying right here.” “But the tapes?” “We have to leave. Pack up and move on out of here.” “Leave the den?” This was the only place Sam knew. Their clan had lived here for several generations. They knew no other way of life but this desolate ranch house near the canyon. They had escape routes and paths hidden everywhere. To leave for parts unknown might put their dwindling den into even more danger. Derek headed toward the door. “I’ll let Cody and Rafe know.” “Derek…” Sam had to make his older brother understand. He’d been the one to put them at risk, and he needed to be the one to fix it. If only Derek would listen… “Pack what you can carry.” Derek stood in the open doorway, his back to Sam. “We leave at midnight.” Once the door had shut behind Derek, Sam put the ice-filled towel in the sink. He gripped the edge of the counter, thinking. He knew he messed up. Big-time. For now, however, the town of Iniquity only had evidence of one shape-shifter. He thought of Candy Kane, the unexpected player in all of this. She knew his secret too, and she had the anklet.

Before his brothers came back into the house, Sam climbed out a back window and disappeared into the canyon. He’d hide out until tonight and head into town. He’d make everything safe again for his den. He had to.

Chapter Nine Candace sank down on her mattress and stared up at the dingy popcorn ceiling in her bedroom. She turned on the lamp next to her bed and kicked off her shoes. Eight p.m. She had the urge to curl up and fall asleep in her clothes. It’d been a long day. First, the appearance of Sam the Thief at the bank. Then, the hours of questioning by the police and the discovery that Chambers knew it was Sam who’d robbed him. If things had been different, she would’ve coughed up everything she knew. Given the cops a perfect description, all the way down to the size of his dick. Not that they would need those kinds of details. When she’d decided to pick up the anklet and take those tapes, however, that had been the moment she’d made her choice. Her life experience told her men sucked. Men were users and liars. So, after being burned one time too many, Candace had learned how to use her looks to get what she wanted from men. They weren’t worth her time, except for the stuff they could give her. Money, expensive gifts, and, as it turned out with Don Chambers, a damn fine interest rate and exclusive membership in his Silver Dollar Club. Most of the time she managed to convince these losers she’d sleep with them once she got what she wanted. Lately, she’d been less than giving with her charms. But after this morning’s events, she was beginning to believe maybe there were men who cared. Sam loved the woman who’d worn that anklet. He’d set up an elaborate ruse just to steal it back, for God’s sake. Those tears and the anger at his lover’s loss had been frighteningly real. She’d never seen a man so torn up. It had moved her to the point where she’d found her defenses weak against such deep emotions. She’d wanted to comfort him, soothe his wounds, take him into her body and heal him. Even after he’d revealed his true self to her. Sam had aroused passions in her she never thought she had. She shivered as her body remembered their coupling. Two empty souls yearning for something just beyond their grasp. She understood his loneliness, but not the depth of his pain. Back in the vault, she would’ve done anything to take that away from him. However, she had plans. Drive to San Diego, buy that sailboat, and take off for parts unknown where she’d be free—only her and the ocean and nothing else. No romantic entanglements, no broken hearts, no lies. To rely on herself and no one else sounded just about perfect. She took the anklet out of her purse and set it on her nightstand. The last thing she wanted to do before she left town was to give it back to Sam. He’d gone to so much trouble to get it. But how would she find him? **** Sam, in coyote form, padded along the low adobe wall that surrounded the condo complex where Candy lived.

It was just after ten o’clock. He’d heard his brothers howling for him after he’d left the safety of their house. Hours and hours. But he remained hidden in the canyon, waiting for the opportunity to correct his mistakes and make his den safe again. He rounded the corner and crossed through the parking lot. She had a second floor unit according to the phone book. Her windows were dark. He’d be in and out in a moment. She’d never even know he was there. First, he’d get back the anklet, then he’d steal the tapes from the police somehow. No evidence except the rantings of a woman under stress from her recent hostage experience. Then, he’d take care of Chambers. At the top of the stairs, he morphed back into human form. The darkness hid his nakedness. First, he tried the door. It should be locked, but he might get lucky. The door was shut tight. Then, he tried the window next to the door. Also locked. Shit. Out of the corner of his eye he caught something fluttering. A curtain inside an open window just over the edge of the landing. Candy’s bedroom, perhaps? The condos had been constructed to look like old adobe buildings with large fake timbers used to enhance the outside façade. One of the beams ran directly under the open window. Sam climbed over the wall of the landing and stretched a foot out to reach the beam. The rough adobe wall scraped his bare thigh. A couple inches closer, and it would’ve scraped more sensitive places. He slid barefoot across the narrow beam and reached for the window ledge, which was shoulder high. From this vantage point, he could see directly into the room. Candy, her face blissful in sleep, rested under a pile of blankets. In the glare of the streetlight he saw the anklet. Right there on her nightstand. So simple. He slid the screen open as quietly as possible. * Candace stirred. Something wasn’t right. A noise or a movement. Something had woken her. As she came to full consciousness, she became aware of a presence right in front of her. Not two feet away. She opened her eyes to bare slits, frightened out of her wits. All she could see was a dark figure, tall and broad-shouldered. A man. She froze in fear. He stepped closer. She sucked in her breath. “Candy?” he whispered. That voice. She recognized the low rumble. Her shape-shifting bank robber. “What are you doing here?” She sat up and snapped on the bedside lamp. Sam, naked as a jaybird, stood in her bedroom. Candace focused her gaze on his face. The sight of his muscled nude body affected her much more than she cared to admit. “You’re awake.” He had no shame in his nakedness, taking another step toward her. “What in the hell are you doing here? Where are your clothes?” She gathered the sheets up under her chin. “And how the fuck did you get inside my apartment?”

“I came for…” He slinked forward. His eyes glowed that strange green again, but her gaze was drawn toward his groin, the purpose of his visit becoming clear. Uncertainty and fear gave way to pure physical need. Her body remembered his invasion and welcomed more of the same. Though she clutched the bedding up against her chest, her resolve began to slip. “What did you come for? Tell me.” She was leaving town. She had no interest in staying. Besides, he held a torch for someone else. A dead lover. There was nothing between the two of them except a sexual need. He pulled the covers away from her. “I came for you, Candy.” Cold air caressed her. The oversized T-shirt she’d worn to bed rode up over her hips. “Don Chambers was at the police station. He knows you were the one … he’ll be looking for you.” He knelt down and kissed her softly. “Tell me I can stay.” * As his lips touched hers he thought about how wrong this was. How crazy. He’d climbed into her room to grab the anklet and run. When she’d stirred and he’d gotten a whiff of her scent once more, however, his focus had shifted. He needed her above everything else. With hands on her shoulders, he pressed her into the pillow and tasted her. He took his time and got to know every centimeter of that lush mouth. Soft. So very soft. He could keep kissing her like this for hours. But when her fingers curled around his arms and she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, he knew he had to touch her. He cupped her chin, and he rested his other hand on her bare stomach. She sucked in her breath at the contact. Tentatively, he spread out his fingers and moved underneath her shirt. So slowly. Inch by inch. Her tongue plunged into his mouth, the kiss turning into something wild and uninhibited. He took that as encouragement and captured her naked breast, thumbing the nipple. She groaned and arched upward. He stroked and massaged the soft mound, teasing the nipple even tighter with a few gentle pinches. He pushed the T-shirt up over her breast, kissed her one more time, and then sucked her hardened nipple into his mouth. Licking at the sensitive bit of flesh. Relishing each cry he wrenched from that pretty mouth. He moved his attentions to her other breast, massaging and nibbling. Two globes of perfection. He pressed them together, reveled in their soft weight, tasted each nipple in turn. She cried out for him, her hands buried in his hair, unable to voice what she needed. So he took his time. The pineapple scent of her filled his lungs with her sweetness. She was everything to him in that moment … desire, love, loneliness. Her body was so responsive, so beautiful, he wanted to remember it all. Each moment. He kissed down her torso and over her trembling stomach. His hands gripped her hips. As he reached the edge of her panties, he pulled at the silky fabric, exposing her curls inch by inch. He took in her scent at the apex of her thighs. The sweet smell was stronger here and mixed with musk. Sexual need pulsed through him, centering in his groin. His penis grew heavy and tight. “Sam, oh God, Sam,” Candy moaned. The words didn’t matter to him, though. The

feel of her beneath his hands and her scent were what drove him. The shifter side of him knew nothing of promises and declarations. The shifter side knew only that his mate was ready for coupling. Her body cried out to him, and he wanted to answer that cry. He pulled her panties past her hips, exposing her most intimate self. The center of her heat and scent. He spread her nether lips with thumb and forefinger and licked the flesh he exposed. Candy jolted. Her hands fisted the sheets. She bent her knees and allowed him to remove her panties. He tossed them aside and eased her legs apart. He climbed on the bed and settled between her thighs. When he spread her open again, he teased her clit with his tongue. The taste of her was like no other. Hot delicious cream, tender flesh. So responsive to him. His mouth possessed her. Tongue deep in her folds. When he found her opening he flicked it once. This was the center of her. A secret hidden away for him to discover. He pressed her legs farther apart. He tongued her, drawing keening cries out of her. Her hands searched for him, tangled in his hair, and urged him to continue the plundering. He moved his mouth away from her pussy and blew gently on the wet flesh. Her thighs trembled. He kissed the skin he found there and worked his way to her knee, her legs still wide apart. Her musky honey calling to him. But he wanted to savor it. Slow it down. Her breathing came in gasps. With her head tilted back and her eyes closed, he surveyed her naked body. The rounded hips, the flat stomach, the generous breasts with nipples hard and at the ready. With a growl, he crawled up her body, biting and kissing along the way. His erect cock lined up with her spread pussy. He leaned into her with his hips and thrust himself deep and hard inside her. Exquisite pressure and heat surrounded his penis. She rose up to meet him, driving him deeper. He grunted at the desire he had for her. This woman was his. Her cries were for him, this hidden spot was for him, the heat, the wetness … only for him. He held himself above her while he used his hips to fuck her. Sweat beaded on his brow, his arms tense and trembling. She felt so good he didn’t want it to end. He drove into her like a battering ram. As hard and as fast as he could. Her inner muscles gripped him, milking the pleasure out of him. His thrusts were now so hard, she held the headboard to stay in place beneath him. She cried out, and he felt the contractions of her orgasm. One more thrust and he climaxed, tumbling over the edge into purest contentment. He’d been lost for so long, and now he’d found home in this woman’s body. So unexpected, but so right. When her body relaxed, he eased out of her and lay down next to her, to play with her hair, caress her arms, murmur soothing words. After Greta’s murder he never thought he could love again. He never thought he could be as vulnerable as he’d been with her. He had vowed never to risk such a terrible wound. Candy curled up against him, and he rested his chin on her head. Complete satisfaction and peace filled him, feelings he’d thought were long dead inside him. He held on to her tightly, knowing it couldn’t last. She’d told him as much. He knew if he stayed with Candy, he’d be putting her in danger. No shifter was safe

until Chambers was taken care of. If Chambers knew Candy had contact with him, Chambers might use her to get to him, and Sam couldn’t live with himself if that happened. He’d barely survived Greta’s death. He kissed the top of her head and held her until she fell asleep.

Chapter Ten Sam was gone. Candace knew it the minute she woke up. Her arms were empty, and her bedroom door stood open. She sat up in bed, the memories of last night flooding her mind. Had it been a dream? The way he’d appeared next to her bed, naked. It seemed like a dream, but the wet stickiness between her thighs told her otherwise. A shiver ran over her. He’d been incredibly tender with her. Loving. Gentle. Not quite the same man she’d met in the bank vault. She intended to hop in the shower when she noticed something—the anklet was gone. It had been on her nightstand right next to her alarm clock. “You are so stupid, Candace.” She punched her pillow. Having men get the best of her was unusual. She could read most men very easily. Manipulate them. Get what she wanted. Clearly, Sam was different. He’d really made her believe he felt something for her. The way he’d knelt in front of her and asked her to let him stay. She’d believed it all. Of course he was only here for the anklet. She’d woken up when he’d tried to sneak in. He had to do something as a distraction. Seducing her had been the obvious answer. She hadn’t shown much resistance in the bank. It’s not as if she didn’t know how much that piece of jewelry meant to him. What a complete fool. Later, as she let the hot water in the shower rain down on her she plotted out her day. What was the point of hanging around Iniquity for one more week? She had the cash she needed. Sure, she hadn’t taken care of most of her belongings or quit her job. Her plan had been to leave with the clothes on her back, all her money in her pocket, and not much more. But this mistake she’d made with Sam, the trust she’d put in him, proved to her that she needed to leave. Be on her own. Rely on no one but herself. Besides, she still hadn’t wrapped her mind around the idea of him being a shapeshifter. It all seemed so ludicrous. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes … well … did she really need to have a relationship with someone even more fucked-up than she was? How exactly did you go about dating someone who turned into a coyote? Today she’d go to the bank, take out all her money, and skate. Fill up her gas tank and head for the California border. San Diego, her thirty-four-foot sailboat, and the Pacific Ocean awaited her. **** Sam, in coyote form, loped across the desert toward Chambers’s home. He owned a hundred acres of ranch land just outside of town. Sam had been there many times before since Greta’s death. Chambers didn’t know Sam’s name, but he did know Sam. He’d

been there in the barn with Greta when Chambers shot her. At first, he’d wanted to kill Chambers for what he’d done, jump on him, tear out his throat. But Greta had looked at him with her dying eyes and whispered, “Don’t.” Sam had barely escaped out the back when a second shot had rung out, missing him by inches. That one word had kept Sam at bay for all these months. But instead of finding peace, instead of getting over her death, his anger had festered and grown. Chambers kept his distance, but Sam couldn’t help reminding the man about what he’d done. Guess Chambers never thought he’d get that bold. Today, the invisible wall Sam had built out of respect for Greta was about to come crashing down. The early morning sun already shone brightly, so Sam couldn’t hide in the shadows. There was no way to approach the house without being seen, so he hung back behind an iron gate that protected the property from unwanted guests. This wasn’t quite how he’d planned it. After he’d gotten the anklet back from Candy he was supposed to get inside the police station to retrieve the tapes, then head to Chambers’s house. But he’d been overwhelmed by desire and need. After making love to Candy, he’d fallen asleep, her soft body next to his. He could’ve handled the couple of cops who were assigned night duty in a small town like Iniquity. However, now that the day shift was on duty, it would be impossible to sneak inside sight unseen. Once again, he’d failed his brothers. When Candy told him she’d seen Chambers at the station, he knew he had to act quickly. Chambers was the bigger threat because he knew shifters existed and had killed before. What if Chambers found out what had happened in that vault with Candy? He might come after her. If he’d barely survived after Greta was murdered, he didn’t know how he’d manage if Candy ended up dead as well. He had to make sure Chambers would never threaten Candy or his brothers. The memory of the gunshot in Greta’s back haunted him. His imagination played tricks on him, substituting Candy’s body for Greta’s. He needed to know Candy would be safe before he left his brothers and everything he knew to make a life for himself far from Iniquity. It was the only way. He’d made the mistakes, so he would make it right and suffer the consequences. No one else. Only a few hundred yards away from Chambers’s house, the coyote in him was determined to face the threat regardless of the outcome. Somehow he had to stop this man. He had to give his brothers a chance to rebuild the den and save the coyote shifter clan from dying out. Chambers had made it clear he would hunt them all down. Take out the “freaks of nature.” Seeing Greta shift had scared the hell out of the guy. And finding out there were more of them, well, Chambers had made it his mission to seek them out. Rid the world of their kind. Sam sat from his safe position behind the gate and waited to make his move. The house was still dark. He’d find his opportunity to strike and take it. It’d only be a matter of time. **** “What do you mean my account’s empty?” A sickening feeling hit Candace in the gut. Almost sixty-five grand she had in there. Five years of savings. “It has to be a mistake. Check again.” The poor young teller behind the counter was as white as a bleached skull in the

desert. “Says here you closed it out yesterday.” She peeked over her shoulder and signaled for the bank manager to come out of her office. “I want to talk to Mr. Chambers.” Her voice shook. “Where is he?” She pushed away from the counter and headed for his office in the back. The bank manager, an older woman with a tight gray bun and navy blue slacks, intercepted her. “May I help you, miss?” It wasn’t the same woman from yesterday. In fact, she didn’t recognize this person at all. “Who are you? Where’s Mr. Chambers?” She tried to step around the manager. “Don!” she yelled down the hall. “I want to talk to you.” The manager grabbed her by the elbow. “He’s not in today, miss. Perhaps I can help you?” Candace heard the front door open. “Is there a problem in here?” A cop entered the building. A police car had been parked out front when she arrived. Maybe a deterrent against the bank robber returning for more. “I just want my money. Where’s my money?” Her plans were turning to dust. Without that money, she had nothing. Just a shitty apartment in this godforsaken town and a job she hated. All of her dreams were crumbling. The manager led her by the elbow to her office in back. “I’m sure if we sit down we can figure out what happened.” Candace yanked out of the older woman’s grasp. “Don Chambers did this. He ripped me off. I know it. Special interest rate, my ass.” “Mr. Chambers isn’t in today. I told you.” The woman looked over Candace’s head at the policeman and shrugged. “Shit.” She never should’ve trusted that sleazeball. Here she thought she’d pulled one over on him, used her wiles to get something for nothing. When all along it looked like he’d been playing her. What a kick in the gut. The policeman touched her arm. “Miss, why don’t you come with me. Outside.” “Don’t touch me.” She stepped back. “I’m outta here.” She banged the door open, hopped on her motorcycle, and was halfway to Don Chambers’s house before the cop could even take another breath. Don would cough up her money or else.

Chapter Eleven “Señorita, Mr. Chambers no home.” Don Chambers’s maid had answered the door. Her English wasn’t the best, but she could get her thoughts across. Candace recognized Don’s Lexus in the drive when she’d pulled up to the gates. He must’ve been expecting someone because she got buzzed through without even talking to someone on the two-way speaker. But now here she stood mere feet away from tracking down the jerk and this little middle-aged maid was in her way. “I know he’s home.” She stepped into the doorway. The maid, a good five inches shorter than she, shrunk back. “That’s his car out front.” “He say, no disturb him.” “Where is he?” Her anger pushed her forward into the foyer. The meek maid fell apart. Her English deteriorated into rapid Spanish. A string of pleas, Candace guessed, to leave before the boss found out. Candace ignored her and strode down the hall, whipping open every door she came across. He had to be here somewhere. He couldn’t hide from her. He’d give her back her money; she’d make him do it. How she was going to accomplish that wasn’t quite clear in her head, but she wouldn’t let that jerk destroy her life. No way he would keep her hard-earned money. No fucking way. Behind her, she heard the maid scramble away calling for someone named Julio. Candace only had a few minutes to find Chambers before someone a little less easily intimidated tossed her out on her ass. “Where the fuck are you, Don?” At the end of the long hallway she banged open the last door. His office. It must be. Bookcases lined the walls and a computer sat on top of a huge oak desk. Behind the desk hung a portrait of a bucking bronco. A large duffel bag sat on the floor. Curiosity drew her closer to the computer. She could hear the hard drive whirring. He’d been here not too long ago. Her stomach fluttered. Her determination wavered just for a second. She remembered what Sam claimed Don had done to his lover, Greta. Killed her. Shot her dead. What made her think Chambers might not do the same to her when she confronted him? She bit her lip. Then, she saw on the edge of the desk a passport and a plane ticket. She snatched it up. A one-way ticket to Rio. Bastard. He was going to take her money to South America and be too far away for the law to get him. When she touched the desk, the computer came out of sleep mode. A file was open. SILVER DOLLAR CLUB It was a list of the club’s members. There were dozens. Next to each name was an

amount. Thousands of dollars. Hundreds of thousands of dollars. Could it be he stole from all of these people? Her heart pounded. This was a serious crime. Dozens of years in prison. Down the hall she could hear the maid and Julio exchanging rapid-fire Spanish. She only had a matter of minutes before Julio came looking for her. She hit Print, hoping that the list could be evidence she could use. While she waited for the printout, the bag on the floor caught her eye again. She noticed a bit of green. As the printer spat out the pages of Silver Dollar Club members, Candace tipped the bag with her foot. A bundle of hundreds fell out. She gasped. She knelt and yanked the bag open. Stacks of cash filled it to the brim. Way more than her missing sixty-five grand. Clearly, she was not his only victim. “Fucking dickhead.” Chambers would go down for this. She’d make sure of it. Upstairs she heard a large crash and a scream. What was going on? She grabbed the printout and the bag full of money and headed for the door. * Sam had Don Chambers pinned to the wall in his upstairs bedroom. He’d scared the shit out of Chambers when he’d climbed in through his open bedroom window. Sometimes being a shifter came in quite handy. He snarled and stepped closer to his prey. Chambers screamed, grabbed a lamp, and tossed it at him. Sam easily sidestepped the missile and bared his teeth. He’d rip this coward to shreds right here in his own bedroom. He’d give him just as much thought as he’d given Greta when he shot her—none at all. Chambers was a threat to his den and to Candy. That’s all he needed to know. He focused his grief and anger on the middle-aged man. When the police came, it’d look like a wild animal attack. A freak accident. He’d held back his anger long enough. It was time for vengeance. He crouched low, his ears back. He was coiled as tight as a spring. Ready to pounce. Ready to slash and bite and rip. “Sam, don’t!” Candy came barreling into the room.

Chapter Twelve “I know it’s you, Sam.” Candace stepped into the room. Don Chambers’s face was a mask of fear; sweat beaded his brow. “You don’t have to do this. I found out what he’s been doing.” Chambers looked at her. “That’s right, Don. I know what you’ve been up to.” She dumped the bag of money on the floor. “It’s too late. You won’t be making that flight to Rio tonight.” “You bitch.” Chambers took a step forward. Sam growled and snarled. Chambers stepped back against the wall. “Call him off.” “No.” She walked around the bed to the phone on the nightstand. “First, we’re going to call the police, then you’re going to tell them everything—” “You’ve got to be insane…” Sam inched forward another step, his hackles raised. “You stole money from me and a bunch of other people here in Iniquity, and I’ve got the proof. You thought you could just skip town?” “I … I’m sorry.” The mighty Don Chambers was not so mighty when being threatened by a coyote. Her coyote. “I owe people money. You don’t understand.” “Save your excuses for the cops. We’ll let them sort it out.” She dialed the phone. The door flew open. The man she guessed was Julio stood there with a shovel in his hand. “Señor?” He saw the coyote immediately. “Julio, help me!” Chambers voice was strained. “This animal’s rabid.” Candace dialed 911. “He’s a thief and a murderer, Julio, and I’m not going to let him get away with it.” The operator answered, and she gave the address information and the reason for her call. Sam leapt on the bed and moved closer to Chambers. When Julio saw that, he dropped the shovel and fled. “Sam, he’ll be going away to jail for a long time. Trust me on this.” The coyote seemed to hear her. He stood his ground, not retreating or advancing. “He won’t hurt you or your den ever again.” “You both are freaks,” Chambers yelled. “That girl was a freak, and I put her out of her misery. You can’t put me away—” Sam threw himself at the man. Chambers fell to the floor, screaming. Sam and Chambers rolled over and over in a flurry of claws and fur. “Sam!” Candace dropped the phone and dashed toward the pair. Before she could intervene, Sam let go, shook himself, and backed away. Chambers had his hands in front of his face. “Keep him away from me.” “Stay in line, and he’ll leave you alone. Piss him off, and there’s nothing I can do. Understood?” Chambers nodded and stayed on the floor. “The police will be here soon.” * After twenty minutes of a tense standoff in Chambers’s bedroom, sirens wailed

outside. Sam still wanted to rip the man’s face off. Candy’s presence in the room was the only thing holding him back. In his coyote form, sometimes it was difficult to use reason and willpower. Instinct took the front seat. But he didn’t want to scare Candy, make her fear what he was. He had no idea where she stood with him after last night. The way he took off that morning might’ve made her think he saw her as nothing more than a good fuck. Perhaps that was for the best. With Don Chambers out of the picture, all he had left to get rid of was the tape, and his den would be safe. Their shape-shifter status would still be a secret … with the exception of Candy. Could he trust her to stay silent? “Sam, you need to go,” Candy said. “They’re here.” The sound of footsteps pounding up the stairs jarred him. He leapt toward the open window and landed on the roof. He followed the steep slope to the northwest corner where a stack of mulch bags softened the jump to the ground. Before he took off into the desert, he looked back over his shoulder. Candy stood in the window, watching. “Wait for me!” she cried out after him. “Please wait.” He hesitated. The barn stood not too far off. He could shift there in secrecy and figure out his next move. He was shape-shifter; she was human. Their lives just happened to connect for a few short moments … that was all. But yet he headed toward the barn. He had to know before he went after the tape and disappeared whether there had been anything more between them than lust. She’d helped him get his revenge on Chambers. Maybe not in the way he wanted, but she’d risked her own safety showing up at his house knowing what she did about the way Greta died. She deserved some sort of closure between them. An explanation. He looked over his shoulder one more time, but her face disappeared from the window. **** More police. More questions. Candace had been chomping at the bit to get out of Chambers’s house and away from the deputy who questioned her about her discovery. She’d seen Sam head toward the barn after she’d called after him and hoped he’d be there waiting for her. “Is that everything?” she asked, trying not to show her impatience. “I’d like you to come down to the station later today and give a sworn statement.” The deputy recinched his belt and tucked his paper pad back in his breast pocket. “I’m gonna have to ask that you don’t leave town for a few days. Just until we can get a solid case together.” To get the deputy off her back, she agreed to the request. She needed to get to Sam and tell him about the tapes before he decided to bolt. After she’d given her address and phone number and promised to show at the station later that day, she slipped past the handful of police grouped outside and headed to the barn. In her oversized handbag she’d stowed a pair of pajama bottoms, a T-shirt, and the surveillance tapes. She’d taken the clothes from Don’s bedroom right after they’d snapped on the cuffs. If Sam were back in human form, he’d need something to wear. The barn door hung open. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the darkness and

hoped he’d waited for her.

Chapter Thirteen “Sam?” Candace whispered. “Are you in here?” The barn was dark and dusty. The scent of fresh hay filled her nose. She sneezed. Two horses turned their heavy heads to gaze at her. Their huge eyes reflected what light there was inside. One nickered and breathed out his nose. A rustling in a far stall caught her attention. She crept forward, her heart beating a million miles a minute. “Sam?” A shadowy figure appeared, but remained behind the walls of the horse stall. “You came,” Sam said. “Of course I came.” She took a step toward him. “Those stupid cops wouldn’t let me leave until I’d explained everything about a half dozen times.” The words came spilling out in a rushed mess of nerves and excitement. Now that she’d made it this far, she wasn’t quite sure what to do. Her bag rested heavily on her shoulder. “Oh, clothes. I brought you some clothes … I thought maybe you could, well…” She tried to get a good look at him in the dark. He was naked back there. The memory of his body poised over hers made her tremble. “Thanks.” He didn’t move. She opened her bag and pulled them out. “Do you want me to, um, leave them here for you?” She stepped farther into the barn. Why was this so hard for her? Was there a connection between them or not? Had he just been playing her this whole time? But the words wouldn’t come. When she got within a few feet of him, she could see the hard planes of his chest. In the shadows his eyes were hidden from her, but his square chin and his mouth were visible. The mouth that had wrung passionate cries from her last night. She licked her lips. He took the clothes from her without a word. “I couldn’t find any shoes. I didn’t know if they’d fit anyway, but I thought you’d probably need something.” She was rambling again. Why couldn’t she just shut up? After quickly donning the pajama bottoms, he pulled the shirt down over his torso. She wished she could see his face here in the dark. Read his expression. But all she could do was focus her gaze on his mouth and the chiseled outline of the indent above his lip. “Are you going now?” He grasped the edge of the stall, his knuckles white. “What?” She’d been so intent on watching his mouth, the words came as a surprise. “Going? Where would I be going?” “I thought you said you were leaving town.” He moved forward just enough to reveal his eyes. The strange green was back. Those green eyes that had mesmerized her in the bank vault and in her bedroom. “I … I don’t have the money yet. The police have to document it as evidence before I get it back. Then there’s the trial. It might be months before I can leave.” “Oh.” There was a long pause. She didn’t know what to think of his reaction. Was that disappointment? “I have the tapes for you.” She dug into her purse a second time to pull out the security videos. “Right before the cops came, I realized you’d shifted on

camera…” “You took the tapes for me?” He took the cassettes from her and turned them over. “Why?” “To keep your secret safe.” “Candy, I never meant to pull you into this. I hope you know that.” “I know.” She watched as he crushed the cassette to bits in his fists. “I’m sorry about Greta.” She’d felt so used after he’d shown up at her apartment last night, but his actions in the bedroom with Chambers made her realize how much Sam had lost. How heartbroken and angry he must be. Did she really blame him for putting so much importance in an anklet? “If you’d just told me you wanted the anklet, I would’ve given it to you. I hope you know that. You didn’t have to … well…” She flicked her gaze away from his. His eyes were so intense. “Did you think I only slept with you to get it back?” His brows lowered and his mouth turned down. “Candy, Candy, Candy.” He reached his hands out to her, his forearms resting on the stall. “Come here.” Had she misread him? “You missed your mate.” In the vault, in her bedroom, it had all been for Greta, the dead female shape-shifter. He’d found comfort in Candace’s body at the bank. That was all, wasn’t it? He laced his hands together and cracked his knuckles. “I loved her, that’s true. And I do miss her still. But Greta’s dead, Candy.” His green eyes shone in the odd half-light. “I know she’s not coming back. She wouldn’t want me to keep hanging on to her.” A familiar heat flared up inside her. So his actions in her apartment had been pure attraction? No ulterior motives? “I don’t understand. What do you mean?” He chuckled. “I thought it was pretty obvious what I meant.” She had a queer sensation in her stomach. Her head felt light. “I’m human, Sam, and you’re … not.” Her mind was racing. She thought regular men were more trouble than they were worth … but a shape-shifting man? “I don’t do relationships. When I get my boat, it’s just going to be me and the waves. No one else. Now that you destroyed the tapes, you need to be here, keeping your den safe, finding a way to … to … procreate. Go find yourself another female like you.” He crossed his arms. “So when exactly are you going to buy this boat?” “As soon as I get my money back.” “You said yourself that’s months from now. Plenty of time for me to show you why I’m worth it.” He smiled and revealed his lengthening canines. Her heart thumped. Although in her head she thought she wanted no ties to any man, no relationships when she left town, her body reacted to the flash of those teeth, the bright green eyes, and the hard body which was only a few feet away. The memory of his hands on her, his cock inside her, his scent in her nose was still strong. She wanted him. “But I’m not a shape-shifter…” “When did I say I was looking for one of my own kind?” “I’m just another lay. You’ll have your fun, and then it’ll be over. You know it.” She’d learned that simple truth over the years. She was nothing but a good fuck, a pretty face, and a nice body. That was it. “Would I have waited for you here, if that were true?” He moved toward the opening in the stall. “If all I wanted to do was screw you, I would’ve headed for the desert the minute the cops came. I had my fun last night.”

She couldn’t seem to process what he was saying. “But you left…” “I’m sorry about that now. I was confused. Scared, maybe. I’d been hanging on to Greta’s memory for so long … too long. I let my anger take over, my hatred. You got caught in the middle of that.” He was even closer now. “If Chambers got to you, too … I just couldn’t take the risk.” He’d left because he’d been worried about her safety? “You don’t want me.” “Yes I do.” “Men don’t stay.” “This one does.” He was just one more step away. Candace couldn’t move. She wanted his words to be true. Everything he said. She was tired of being alone all the time, tired of being hurt, tired of all the games. To reach out for something she could hold on to was very tempting. A soft place to land. Someone who cared for her… “When I get all my money back, would you come with me?” He smiled slowly. “Is that an invitation? I thought it was woman versus the world, no men allowed.” “I might make an exception.” Would he be willing to leave everything familiar, his den, his brothers? Was she asking too much? “I want you, Candy. I’d follow you across the sea if I had to. Don’t you know that? Shape-shifters are devoted mates. We don’t choose our partners lightly.” He caught her by the shoulders. “I don’t choose lightly.” He leaned forward, his mouth descending on hers. He kissed her with a thoroughness she hadn’t expected. He coaxed her to kiss him back, drawing her deeper into it. She moved into his arms. Keeping her lips against his, he turned his head and cupped her chin with one hand. He swept his tongue into her mouth and plundered her depths. His body was a hard, solid thing against hers. A hardness she craved. She tugged on his shirt to bring him closer. Her breasts pressed against his chest. He groaned at the contact and deepened the kiss. A flame of desire snapped to life inside her. A need so hot and so feral, she could barely control it. She kissed him back, devouring him, needing him. An intensity of feeling washed over her. He grabbed her by the arms and broke the kiss off. His gaze burned into hers. “I choose you. Do you want me as your mate?’ The flicker of doubt in his eyes pained her. He was as troubled and injured as she. A lost soul needing someone to love. Looking for that connection. He’d lost a connection; she’d never had one. With just one word she could erase that doubt in his eyes. What power she held in that moment. “Yes,” she whispered. “I want you as my mate, Sam.” He smiled slowly. Warmth replaced the doubt in his eyes. “Mine, always.” “Yes.” It did scare her a bit to think about trusting him with her heart. “So you’ll really come with me?” “Whenever you’re ready to go.” He brushed a finger lightly across her cheek. “Once I’ve got the money…” “Oh, so Candy Kane is going back to work?” He smiled, a glint in his green eyes, a flash of extra sharp teeth. His misunderstanding in the bank about her line of work was clearly on his mind. “Looking for extra tips? I might have a suggestion.” The sexual beast she’d met in the bank vault was back. A flush of heat crept across her body. She picked up on his teasing. “A working girl always could use more cash.

Perhaps a private session?” Here in the dark it was easier to free herself of inhibitions. His eyes glittered. “Show me what Candy can do.” She’d never liked anyone calling her Candy, but somehow when it came out of Sam’s mouth, it made her shiver with desire. She rolled her hips, like a dancer on stage. She liked the focus of his gaze on her. Up and down her body. Lingering on her breasts. In one fluid motion, she grasped hold of a smooth and worn support beam to use as an impromptu stripper pole. She twisted and writhed seductively using the beam as her partner. In her head she heard the music—a slow RandB number. She clutched the edge of her shirt with her free hand and worked it up her body, revealing her stomach inch by inch. When Sam growled in appreciation, she turned so her back was flush with the beam and arched against it, working the shirt up her body, over her breasts, then she flung it aside. Next, she unzipped the zipper of her jeans. She turned so her back was to him and shimmied out of them one leg at a time. Dressed only in bra and panties, she wrapped a leg around the beam and spun herself around it. She flung her head back and thrust her breasts toward the ceiling. With one hand she unclasped her bra and dropped it. Sam sucked in his breath. Her nipples hardened at the sound. She let go of the beam, cupped her breasts, and danced forward. When she was within an arm’s length she spun around and swayed her hips, shaping her hands down her sides. She reached the waistband of her panties, bent over, and whipped them off. Grabbing the beam for support, she remained that way, bent at the waist, legs parted, her backside toward him. “Candy,” he moaned. She knew he could see her pussy from this angle. Exposed. Wet. Ready. She gyrated down to the floor, knees bent, and then back up. Slowly. Seductively. She flipped her hair over one shoulder and looked back at him. “I want you, Sam. Come and get me.” He growled and grabbed her hips, forcing her backside against his groin. The feel of his erection through the thin pajama pants made her pulse quicken. She ground into him. He ran a hand over her back, massaging her spine, her lower back, the curve of her ass. “You are so beautiful, Candy.” His hand moved in circles. He slipped a finger between her legs. “Do you want me?” He tickled her sensitive folds. “Yes.” She needed more from him, so much more. He plunged two fingers into her vagina. She arched her back, relaxed her inner muscles, and squeezed. “God, harder.” Rapid-fire, he moved his fingers back and forth. He kissed her back and murmured gently to her, encouraging her. “You are so soft inside, Candy. Soft everywhere. Like velvet.” She held onto the beam, cries wrenching from her throat. She raised herself up on her tiptoes to give him better access. “I have to fuck you, Candy. I can’t wait any longer.” His erection nudged against her. Needing something more than two fingers, her pussy throbbed. Sam drew his fingertips across her inner walls one last time. The tip of his cock touched her opening. He thrust inside her.

Her nerves fired at the invasion sending a riot of sparks down her back. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back; his other hand gripped her hip. He thrust into her as deep as he could go. The force of his thrusts caused her to grunt in satisfaction. Her reaction measured somewhere between animal and human. She responded primitively to his claiming of her body with cries of pleasure-pain. She wanted him to be hard and fast, to feel the shifter inside him come out. “Candy,” he growled, “don’t ever leave me.” He tugged at her hair and fucked her harder. “Never.” She reached her pinnacle, crying out as the climax rushed through her. Sam pumped a few more times, her added moisture from her orgasm making his thrusts glide more smoothly. “God, Candy.” The warmth of his ejaculate filled her when he climaxed. “I love you.”

Epilogue “Sam, hurry, you’re going to miss it.” Candace, wearing a hot pink bikini, stood at the railing of their sailboat and snapped a half dozen photos of the playful dolphins jumping in the sailboat’s wake. They soared into the bright sunlight and gave joyful squeaks before splashing back into the Sea of Cortez. It had been a bliss-filled month since they’d purchased their sailboat, Eye Candy, and set sail for Baja California. “Our little dolphin friends again?” Sam wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her close, kissing the top of her head. “I think there’s more of them this time. A little family.” She let the camera dangle from her wrist and enjoyed the sight while it lasted. She leaned into Sam’s solid body. Her thoughts drifted to another family. “Do you ever miss them?” “Miss who?” The dolphins fell back, letting the sailboat continue on without them. “Your brothers. Your den.” Although he’d told her that day in the barn he wanted her as a mate, she’d sensed a wistfulness in him when they arrived in San Diego. He rubbed his hand in circles over her naked midriff, and she shivered. “Sometimes.” Candace’s stomach dropped. He was having second thoughts. “But,” he said, spinning her around in his arms, “I wouldn’t change my decision. With our kind dying out, we knew it was only a matter of time before we had to change our way of life.” She threw her arms around his neck. His head blocked the bright sun, and she could see his eyes were shifter green. “What do you think they’ll do?” He kissed her on the tip of her nose and caressed her backside. “Hopefully, find mates like I did.” She smiled. “You’re such an animal.” She pulled out of his grasp, laughing at her joke, and headed below decks. Behind her, she heard a growl. Desire rippled through her. He was the most attentive lover she’d ever had. With just a touch, he knew how to set her body on fire. “You’d better be naked when I find you.” There wasn’t a whole lot of room to hide down below. She dashed past their small galley and the padded bench around the dining table. Reaching the door to the stateroom, she prepared to dive directly onto the bed. Before she could make her leap, Sam slammed the door shut. She whipped around. His arms created a cage around her. “Where do you think you’re going?” “I thought I’d take a shower…” She lifted her gaze to meet his and undid the bathing suit clasp around her neck. “Want to join me?” The cups of her bikini top fell. Sam’s focus zeroed in on her naked breasts. He dropped a hand to cup one mound of flesh. “Let’s wait on the shower.” She sighed. His touch was heavenly. “What did you have in mind?” He shaped her breast with a gentle squeezing and brushed a thumb across her nipple. “Something to eat?” He lowered his head and took her nipple into his mouth.

“I could eat.” The pull on her sensitized flesh made her knees weak. She could spend her entire life inside this boat with Sam at her side. Here, he was safe from exposure. They could travel the world and live in relative isolation, only seeking company when it suited them. The perfect life for a shifter and his mate. As for the rest of his brothers, she hoped they found a way to manage outside the security of their den. She knew Sam worried about them. Maybe someday she and Sam would go back to Arizona, find out how the brothers had forged new lives for themselves. But for now, this was all she and Sam needed—each other. She cupped his head and held him in place, encouraging him to suck harder. He must have sensed her resolve slipping. With a quick motion, he stripped off her bikini bottoms and pressed his erection against her. She was ready for him now. “Get out of your clothes. I need you.” She tugged at his swim trunks. He let her pull them down so his hardened dick was freed. “I need you, Sam. Always.” The End About the Author: Kris is a thirty-something mom of two who lives far, far away from civilization, which means she has plenty of quiet nights (and days) to write. She is a movie addict, can bake a mean muffin, and loves reading historical romance, though she’d never try to write one. A multipublished author, Kris likes writing contemporary, sexy stories, but she does have a few paranormal books. Kris loves hearing from readers! Visit her online at www.kriseton.com

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