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Chapter 1
David Patterson parked his car and headed into the Clawed and Dangerous Kitty Cat Club, a Dallas-based social gathering spot for jaguar shifters. Humans didn't know that the shifters even existed, and the shifters meant to keep it that way. The owners of the establishment didn't restrict humans from frequenting the place, since more business meant more money.
But David wasn't there to support the club. His current task as a Special Forces Golden Claw JAG agent was to follow two unruly teens-jaguar shifter twins Alex and Nate Taylor-and bring them into the JAG branch if they violated one more law, jaguar shifter or otherwise.
This was not the kind of mission JAG agents normally took on-unless the organization felt the teens were at risk, or that they could be a welcome asset to the branch, and the agent was between assignments.
Neither of the boys was supposed to be in a club that served alcohol, which he would let slide if they were only there to watch the dancers in their skimpy leopard-skin loincloths and micro-bikini tops.
The place was more crowded than David remembered the last time he was here. One rowdy group caught his attention. They looked...different. Many were in great shape-almost as if they were shifters in the Service. But they were speaking in a smattering of foreign languages-Spanish, Russian, Chinese-and some of them wore clothes that were...unusual. Tights, sparkly tops, and ballet slippers that looked less like club clothes and more like what a Las Vegas entertainer would wear. The air-conditioning blew their scents to him. Not jaguar shifters.
They smelled of elephants, horses, camels, lions, tigers, and dogs. The circus? Had to be from there. David was surprised they hadn't changed into everyday normal clothes, unless they were trying to help promote the circus.
He wrinkled his nose, glad he wasn't planning to drink anything here tonight. That was the problem with being a shifter-the enhanced ability to smell odors. He noticed other patrons glancing their way, wrinkling their noses. Must be shifters, too.
The jungle music beat shook the floor and tables as conversations hummed all around him. A few couples danced on the floor, while others were just drinking and talking. Piped-in sounds of parakeets and parrots twittering and calling to each other and an occasional monkey's howl made the silk leaf jungle sound more like the real deal.
David's attention returned to Alex and Nate. Though not as muscular, they were both as tall as David and they could pass for adults. Alex's hair was blond, his eyes a dark blue, while Nate was less tan and his light brown hair shaggier.
One was dressed in camouflage pants, the other blue jeans, and both were wearing black T-shirts with pictures of differently posed jaguars screen-printed on the front. The words Panthera onca-the scientific name for jaguar-announced to the world that they were jaguar shifters, though only their kind would realize that's what they were saying.
When David had been that age, he'd felt the same way. He'd wanted to shout to the world that he was a jaguar shifter and damned proud of it, instead of hiding it from everyone who wasn't like him. Since there were more human females than female jaguar shifters, he'd wanted human girls to see him as someone truly special. He'd often fantasized that girls he'd had crushes on were of his kind and not strictly human. Most of his kind were born as jaguar shifters, but some were humans who had been turned, which was not the best of ideas. Though his brother's wife, Maya, had turned her brother's wife-to-be and that had worked out well, despite the trouble it could have caused if Kat had had family.
So he could definitely commiserate with the twins.
The boys grabbed chairs at a table and David sat at another close by. Nate flagged down a server wearing a skimpy leopard-skin dress, cut high on the thighs and low on a very well-developed bust. Red curls bouncing about her shoulders, she smiled brightly at the boys as Alex whispered their drink order.
Grinning, the kids focused on two women who were dancing, breasts jiggling in their teeny bikini tops. David shook his head. The boys were so much like him and his twin brother, Wade, at seventeen.
The server returned with the boys' red-colored drinks topped with lime-green paper parasols, the toothpicks seated in cherries.
David was about to move in to ensure the drinks were nonalcoholic when Alex said, "Okay, listen, Nate. We did it your way last time and you know how much I objected. This time we can't take a chance with the missing zoo cat."
David sat back down in his seat, listening intently. They had to be talking about the missing zoo cat from Oregon. Maya, his brother's wife, had a cousin-Tammy Anderson-who was looking for a jaguar missing from the zoo.
Nate snorted. "Hell, everything would have been fine with the jaguar if all had gone as planned. At least she's safe for now."
He wanted to hear more of the boys' conversation about the missing cat before he took them in for further questioning, if he felt the situation warranted it, but he saw something quick, big, and muscular in his peripheral vision. The bouncer. Brown eyes, nearly black, muscles bulging in readiness, mouth turned down. Hell. Joe Storm.
As much as David didn't want to make this personal, he couldn't help feeling a grudge toward the guy. David still believed that if Joe hadn't stolen Olivia Farmer away from him and promised to marry her-which he had no intention of doing-she wouldn't have committed suicide.
David watched the former JAG agent turned club bouncer stalk toward the boys. He looked eager to teach a couple of shifter teens they weren't welcome at the club until they were of age. David had worked with Joe on a couple of assignments and knew that the bouncer liked women-too damn well, in David's opinion-made allowances for most men, and had zero tolerance for troublemaking teens.
"Hey, Alex, trouble's coming," Nate said. Though David knew from experience that kids had to learn from their own mistakes, he also knew how hard Joe could be on them, and David didn't always agree with Joe's stern methods of enforcement.
Before David could reach the boys and protect them, the bouncer grabbed Alex and Nate by the arms and hauled them through the crowded club toward the back door. "I'll break both your bloody noses," Joe growled. "See if you'll want to come back for more after that, eh?"
Joe never made idle threats. David had seen him rough up a drunken human who had started a fight in the club. Joe had broken another man's nose for harassing one of the club's dancers. Talking Joe out of what he intended to do was not going to work.
David lunged from behind and hit Joe in the side of the head with his fist. Joe released the boys at once, but neither of the brothers left the club as David had expected they would.
"Go!" he shouted, just as Joe swung around, aiming to plant a fist in David's face.
David ducked and came around to slug Joe in the jaw, but managed to hit him in the temple instead, knocking the son of a bitch out cold. It was one helluva lucky punch, and it felt damn good, he had to admit. Joe was an ex-marine, ex-boxer, and ex-bartender. He looked like he killed men for pleasure, but right now, it appeared he'd be sporting some major bruises.
Getting the upper hand with him was probably as much a shock to David as to everyone else in the club. The music had stopped and all conversation had died. The teens had vanished.
Cheers went up and David gave a thumbs-up to the club patrons' raised glasses, whistles, whoops, and hollers.
Grinning, he hurried to call his boss, Martin Sullivan, director of the JAG branch, about the boys and the missing jaguar as he headed for the door, still hoping to catch the kids before they disappeared for good.
"Martin, I've got good news and bad. The good news is that the Taylor twins seem to know something about the missing zoo jaguar. I want in on the case with Tammy Anderson. The bad news is that I'm probably about to get arrested. Can you tell her I'm working with her on this mission and to come pick me up from jail?"
