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Like static in the air right before a storm.

I glance toward the bar again.

Arliss has been away from the front bar for a while.

My breath catches in my throat.

Okay, she’s been heading to the back off and on all night. Restocking the beer, checking the kegs.

But this feels different.

Maybe because Bob’s gone too.

The register’s unmanned.

There’s a line of customers waiting and no one pouring.

Zeke must sense the shift in me because he sits up straight.

“Dude?” he asks, eyes narrowing.

My jaw tightens.

“Something’s wrong.”

I don’t walk.

I leap over the bar, my boots hitting the ground with a thud that rattles the glasses on the shelves.

“Fuck,” I hear Zeke mutter behind me as he moves to follow.

But I’m already gone, charging toward the back like the Bull inside me is on fire.

I don’t knock. I shove the stockroom door open so hard it bounces off the wall.

And in one heartbeat, I see everything.

The air is heavy with the scent of feline.

Musky. Predatory.

Not the cute barn kind either.

Big cat.

Dangerous.

Those fucking cowboys who tried messing with my girl before.

Anger ripples through me, but I bite down on it because I need to concentrate.

I see Bob. He is down, slumped by the back wall, blood dripping down his temple, fresh claw marks slashed across his face.

But the thing that has my beast snorting and stomping inside me is my worst fucking fear.

Arliss is gone.

Everything inside me snaps.