Jack, page 6
part #2 of Hunted Shifters Legacy Series
“What are those?”
“My favorite dessert,” he said, taking one and putting the whole piece in his mouth. He did seem to love it, which had her gamely picking one and popping it in her mouth.
Wrong move.
She almost choked as the sourness hit her throat before it zinged up her head. Kit’s eyes widened, ready to protest about his terrible choice of dessert.
Jack was eyeing her carefully. And she got it.
Immediately, her facial expression changed into a pleasant one—at least, it tried to, because what she really wanted to do was spit it out.
“This is great,” she enthused.
“Glad you like it.” And then he thrust the box at her. “I bought it all for you, so you won’t get bored.”
Oh, the little jerk. Kit gave him a look but reluctantly took the box. She ate slowly, steadily, determined to prove that if he could eat what she bought for him, she could do the same.
The hours passed by slowly, with more food bought: spicy food, sour food, exotic food. Each one made her want to punch him in his perfect nose, but also made her determined to show him she wasn’t going to complain. So she ate and ate, stuffing herself until she was too full.
“Liking everything so far?”
Her chin lifted. “Yes.”
He must’ve seen through the act because a flare of guilt entered his expression before he got out of the car again. When he returned, another box was in his hands.
This time, he delighted her when she found an assortment of chocolates in them.
“I know how much you like them,” he said. “Dessert.”
They were the expensive kind from a Swiss store, and she realized this was his way of apologizing. Unable to hold a grudge, she took the box, placed it on her lap, and began to dig in.
Pleasure sank in her system at the first bite, then just kept going as she happily went through the rest. He watched her, quiet, those ice-blue eyes light and fascinated.
“You’re obsessed with sweets,” he declared.
“Nope, just a regular desire,” she countered. “Who doesn’t like Swiss chocolates? They’re the best.”
He didn’t eat any, of course, and that only made his gesture to buy her a whole box more heartwarming. The last stop was in front of a mansion in Manhattan, one with iron gates and marble columns. She put the box aside and sent him her most innocent look.
“I’m low-key curious if you’re visiting rich-ass places like these to make drug deals.”
He returned her look. “Really, now?”
Kit fluttered her lashes. “It explains why you won’t let me come with you inside.”
There was a sigh, then victory as he grumbled at her to come with him. Glee had her practically skipping as she followed him to the mansion, where a middle-aged businessman named Drew greeted them with warm words and some fears about the rise of thieves in the neighborhood. She watched the exchange but particularly watched Jack as he studied the mansion interior and began to list all the possible security installments they could put in.
“Good, good. It’s crazy. Last week there was a break-in at Roger’s place, and he said he saw with his eyes that the thieves brought crocodiles with them. Crocodiles! They left some footprints, too. Who does that? I fucking hate crocodiles and besides how is that possible? This is New York!”
Kit stilled, realization dawning instantly. But Jack was a neutral force as he gave his sympathies to Drew and promised he’d make sure the mansion was well-protected. They talked rates, not cheap ones. They shook hands, then left the mansion with Drew in a much more accommodating mood and Jack…well, richer.
“You were brilliant in there,” she declared when they were back in the car.
“How so?”
“You know how to sell the highest-priced items you have but kept reminding him of the only ones he needed. He would’ve just bought those, but you already lit the fire. Pride wouldn’t have let him settle for less, so he ordered everything.”
“Interesting observation,” he said, amusement visible. They started driving.
“So about those crocodiles…”
Instantly, the amusement fled, and a thin mask of casualness covered his actual expression: bothered. It was a fast shift, but Kit was faster, having already anticipated it.
“Yeah. Some people are crazy.”
“So, humans?” she asked, skeptical. “Why would they bring crocodiles, and what would they benefit?”
She waited for reptile shifters to be mentioned—was anticipating it, too, since he was one. Instead, Jack shrugged. Too casually.
“I don’t know, Kit. Like I said, some people are crazy.”
And she knew, she just knew, Jack was hiding something.
“So where to next?”
“Home. I’m taking you home. I’m done with my day.”
Now, that was definitely something.
Kit wanted to push, but she knew doing so would make him shut down more. She studied him out of the corner of her eye, noticed that his mind was already elsewhere. There was a tenseness there, too: in the way his shoulders seemed tighter in posture, the way his jaw clenched every few minutes. Those hands flexed repeatedly, too, even when the drive was smooth.
The veins in his hands distracted her for a bit, making heat curl in her stomach. But an idea soon formed, one she went with as she took her spare earpod device from her pocket. When a red light hit them, she casually leaned over to him, letting her hand flutter over the back of his coat.
He froze.
She kind of did, too, at how warm he was. Kit tried to shrug it off.
“Bug on your coat,” she muttered. “I hate bugs.”
She let her hand glide down, dropping the device in his blazer pocket. Then she snatched her hand back, feeling a tingle that she didn’t want.
The rest of the drive was uneasy.
Chapter 8
It was all he could do not to rush Kit home, and it was all he could do not to feel guilty about it. The desire to tell her what he really knew was surprisingly strong—and something that needed to be held in, because he couldn’t have that knowledge jeopardizing her safety. Jack was used to keeping truths to himself, had lived most of his life like this.
It shook him now how he wanted to open up to her.
To her credit, Kit left the topic alone, drawing out other questions that he was all too happy to answer: about his police work, about any clans he knew of, about the juggling of supernatural and human duties. The answers kept them preoccupied until they got to her garage, where she gave him a bright smile that increased the guilt, but also made him feel…light.
He drove off unsettled, but soon that firmed into tension as he neared his next destination.
As far as underground railroad stations went, New York’s was probably one of the most complex, with all the varied turns and abandoned sites. Most of his kind lived in the water systems, and they were pretty much the most vicious of the lot—which was saying something, because reptile shifters in general were more vicious than all the other kinds of shifters in the world. But there was one particular clan that dominated the railroads, and the nearer he got to their territory, the tenser his body became.
Practice had him taking deep breaths, then easing himself into a relaxed state as he readied to face them. He avoided the major train routes and went for shortcuts, the shadows providing darkness, his mind already knowing the paths by heart. He stopped at a spot that had water rising from a river, streaming steadily near his feet and masking any other noise there was. He waited.
He didn’t have to wait long.
A head popped up from the water, brown scales glistening as the creature heaved itself up from it. Crocodile features immediately shifted to man, and Jack didn’t flinch as this one got right in his face and snarled.
“What the hell are you doing back here?”
The voice was garbled, crackling with rough energy. Like a smoker’s voice, only more intense.
“I’m here to talk to your clan leader.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Unless you want the cops further investigating thieves with crocodiles and tracing it back here, then yes, there is something to talk about.” He became aware of more movement in the water, then the shadows: both reptile shifters and actual crocodiles, all eyes on him. They were protecting the pocket, ready to attack. He still didn’t budge. “This is important, Trey.”
The next snarl was practically spit in his face, and Jack had to stiffen his body to keep from bristling. Finally, Trey growled before backing away and leaving him there without a word.
A few minutes later, someone stepped out of the wall shadows: a bigger, broader man, scales darker brown and spiking from his back and arms. Rex. His mud-brown eyes locked in on Jack. Oddly enough, it reminded Jack of Kit’s brown eyes, which were lighter. Softer. He shook that thought off.
“Good evening, clan leader.”
“How did you know?”
No hello, just a straight-up question. It was expected, considering Jack hadn’t been on friendly terms when he'd been kicked out.
Carefully, he explained talking to a fellow from the neighborhood but didn’t drop names. When the witness was mentioned, the tension in the air became palpable.
“If you’re doing something illegal that might cause humans harm…”
“We don’t care enough about them to venture up and cause harm,” was the clan leader’s calm response. “Unless they come here uninvited.” It was a taunt, but also a threat. “That man caught crocodiles for a living, and for display. You should check his mansion out. It’s filled with pits and cages and scales on walls, all for entertainment. We just tried to free them, and we didn’t think he was home to witness it.”
The thought alone made Jack’s stomach turn, but he was calm when he nodded his head. Oh, he would be checking that out. Poachers and exotic animal collectors deserved hell.
“I’ll handle him,” he said in response. That was supposed to be the end of the conversation.
But it wasn’t.
Abrupt, ferocious growls came from all around, followed by a protesting voice—a familiar voice. Jack froze in his spot as a shadow dragged another shadow in, right before they came into view: a young reptile shifter he didn’t recognize…
And Kit. The young shifter's claws dug on her skin, which was already red from the contact.
A haze filled his vision, and he had to visibly yank it back in. He tensed when the shifter let go of Kit, but so roughly that she dropped to the ground on her hands and knees.
“I found her lurking about, listening to our conversation. Human. She is fiesty.”
Oh, Kit.
All eyes turned to her now, and the growling intensified. Kit visibly flinched, then looked up at Jack with a slightly guilty expression. Not just that. There was also resignation there as if she knew her fate. She was going to fight it, but she knew she couldn’t take them on.
And it turned him cold inside.
“Well, then, you know what we do to intruders,” Rex said calmly. “Shall we let the crocodiles have at it—”
Before the suggestion could continue, Jack stepped forward.
“I challenge a fight.”
Silence.
Rex raised a thick brow. “Condition?”
“I win, and you let us both go. I’ll make sure that poacher goes to jail. You win, I’ll still make sure he goes to jail. But you can have her.”
It was the hardest thing to say, and he had to stifle himself from looking at her in apology. But there was no way they were letting her go without a fight, and the crocodiles wouldn’t be merciful. They would tear her to pieces and feed on her. His stomach roiled, but his shoulders hardened.
No weakness. Never show them weakness—
“I’ll fight him.”
Of course, it would be Trey.
Ugly sounds grew as everyone turned agitated, but Rex remained silent. Jack kept his gaze on the man, knowing that under the calm veneer, he was the one to watch out for—the most dangerous and powerful of the lot. If Rex decided to fight Jack…
“You’re growing too human for your own good, Stallone. But it’s not something I hadn’t predicted already, and it’s why you don’t deserve a place here.”
“I know.”
“Very well. As long as you can keep her quiet.”
“I can.”
“Then we accept the challenge.”
* * *
They were taken to a deeper part of the crocodile’s lair, the underground tunnel going down. They stopped in a square space with multiple doorways, most of the clan members following them with crocodiles in tow. A few of them kept Kit inside a circle, and frustration hit him at the realization that they’d tear her apart the moment he lost.
Trey faced him, and he faced the guy. Silence was tense, but it didn’t last long as they both moved at the same time—jumping at each other, exploding in a mass of scales until they were no longer in man form.
For Trey, it was faster. For Jack, with half of him still human, it was a slightly slower process, which was why he had to duck at the last second and avoid the first slash. He landed on the ground fully a reptile, his crocodile form large, but not as large as Rex and Trey. But what he lacked in size, he made up for in speed, his sleeker, longer lines allowing him to avoid a few more swipes before he lunged for one of his own.
It connected, and Trey growled when one of his scales got ripped off. It made Trey angrier, beady eyes flashing with a hatred that didn’t just stem from this. Trey had always hated him—had always made it a point to remind Jack that he didn’t belong, rallying the others to beat him up when they had him cornered. Rex hadn’t, but hadn’t stopped it either, agreeing with them in his quiet way.
Oh, how Jack hated it here. He gritted his teeth as Trey became more aggressive, going for multiple swipes until he latched on. They rolled on the ground, each struggling to get the upper hand. Jack tried to shimmy away but was dragged back, wide jaws gaping to take a bite at him. He wasn’t able to get away in time, and pain exploded when one of his scales got torn off, then another.
A gasp, a call of his name. It flitted in his senses, long enough for him to glance at Kit, who had her eyes locked on the fight—locked on him, helplessness and horror warring. Someone else had his claws on her, digging, drawing out blood. Deliberate, so that the other shifters would smell her and grow excited over her flesh.
Fury slammed inside him, so hard that it was practically choking. Jack let it fuel him into desperation, and that desperation fueled his strength as it surged. He took advantage, pushing Trey off him. Then he lunged, so fast and hard that Trey didn’t have time to scramble back or away.
Now, Jack’s jaws locked in, taking Trey by the neck. The momentum of the lunge continued as he twisted his body, a maneuver so natural that he didn’t even think. He heard a snapping sound, felt more scales being ripped off.
He smelled blood, only accentuated by the sudden slumping of the shifter he had in his mouth. Without savoring the victory like most reptiles did, Jack let go immediately, eyes on the dead clan member in front of him.
Silence surrounded them.
Of course, that silence was followed by angry growls, but it was Rex who stepped forward. A nod of head to the side and Kit was instantly tossed in Jack's direction—hard, her knees buckling and about to fall face-first into Trey’s bloody form. Jack shifted, catching her before she got covered in blood. He nodded back in Rex’s direction, not missing the dissatisfaction underneath the calm.
“I’ll keep my promise,” was all Jack said.
Then he was taking Kit by the arm and walking out of there as fast as he could without outright running.
Tension filled his shoulders, waiting for them to jump on him—on Kit—at any second. But no one did, and her nervous silence egged him on despite the pain tearing at his shoulders and his sides. There was no time to check on it.
The pain intensified the longer they walked, and soon he realized the nervous silence was gone. Not only that, but Kit’s arm was around his waist, a firm hold that looked like her trying to press closer to him in fear of her surroundings.
In truth, it was a quiet support as she seemed to understand his condition.
His vision blurred, weaving in and out. He spit out directions, let Kit take them there. They navigated painstakingly slow, avoiding the active train stations, but also wary of the shadowed areas, where any nasty surprise could pop out. Because he was no longer in any condition to fight, it only increased the sense of danger, one they both tried to get through.
Soon, light filled his closed eyelids, making him nearly blind. He groaned a protest but was silenced when Kit hushed him and directed him to his car. He took deep gulps of air, then opened his eyes a fraction. Beside him, Kit scurried over to the driver’s seat.
“What are you…what are…?”
“I’m going to drive,” she said matter-of-factly. “Keys?”
“Glove compartment.”
The ignition was started up.
“Jack, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. God, I’m an idiot. I caused all of that.”
Maybe she had, but they were craving that fight, anyway. Trey would’ve tried to kill him one way or another.
“Just don’t be again. You tracked…tracked me?”
“Yes. Dumb move.”
“No. You’re clever.”
“And you were once part of their clan.” It wasn’t a question.
Jack gritted his teeth. “Yes.” He gritted them tighter when the pain came like a wave, rolling from head to foot and making him shudder.
“Jack?” she asked uncertainly. “Tell me what to do. Please.”
With effort, Jack opened both eyes and looked down, assessing himself. He heaved a sigh of relief but fisted his hands at the next wave of pain.
“Stitches. Short ones. I’ll be fine.”
“You don’t look fine.” She gasped. “You’re in pain.”
“Scales removed mean excruciating pain. But he didn’t get…didn’t get to my flesh much. I’ll heal fast, but it’ll be painful. Just…just get me somewhere safe.”
