Page 36 of Covert Affections (Shadow Agents/PSI-Ops #5)

He leaped into the brush near the Airstream and darted into the tall prairie grass, tracking them through the wilderness, following their putrid trail as afternoon bled into evening. Hours passed as he stalked them, the sun sinking behind the mountains.

He should have been reporting for his first shift at the rescue by now, but that job was just a cover anyway.

The real threat was ahead of him, moving in what seemed to be circles.

Why was it? Had their minds finally rotted fully?

Or were they purposely doing so, knowing he was following, toying with him?

The air pressure around him began to change, promising a storm that hadn't broken yet. Distant thunder rumbled as Jesse prowled through the dense, tall grass, fully shifted into cat form, his senses honed. The hybrids’ trail was clear—pungent, wrong, something that didn’t belong in the natural order.

Another hour went by before their trail varied, leading off in a direction that made his blood run cold.

Samuel’s old horse ranch.

The very same one Charley had turned into a horse rescue.

Fear punched through him, raw and primal. They were going to attack the rescue. Attack Charley. Jesse's pace quickened, his powerful muscles bunching as he raced to intercept them before they could reach their target.

He would not let harm come to Charley.

Jesse quickened his pace through the damp night air.

Barking from a dog cut through the silence. The scent of it followed. It was a domestic breed, not a shifter. That was good. Jesse had enough to deal with as far as the hybrids went. He didn’t need anything else to contend with.

He continued running through the tall grass.

Additional smells reached him. Ones he recognized from the job fair—Bill and Gus.

They were close. He inhaled again and caught Charley’s scent.

So was she. He broke through the grass and watched as Bill and Gus drove down the ranch’s long drive in one truck while another, this one with the rescue’s information on the side was parked in the road, its headlights piercing the darkness.

There was a howl in the distance. It was one of the hybrids signaling to the others.

Fuck!

Mist started, coating the area as the wind increased as the storm rolled in from the mountains, blanketing the area.

The threat of lightning clung to the air.

Between it and the mist, which was fast turning to rain, the smell of the hybrids began to dissipate.

They weren’t gone, no, they were circling their prey—Charley.

Jesse gave up trying to stay hidden in the shadows and much like he’d done years ago—he rushed toward Charley in shifted form, his intent clear. He’d protect her at all costs.

She’s family.

The thought caused him to hesitate just a second as he neared the road.

Flashes hit him hard and fast. Memories of a dinner table filled with laughter, Samuel across from him, both in black fatigues that weren't Corporation issue assailed him.

A dark-haired man with tattoos and fangs saying something about family ties being stronger than blood.

The scenes shifted, fragmenting like broken glass—training exercises, missions, brothers-in-arms who had his back.

Samuel's voice, calling him brother, meaning it.

Don't question the process.

Obey orders.

Keep your head down.

The mantra slammed through his mind. He had to force it away to focus on getting to Charley and keeping her safe.

Jesse shook his head, barreling forward.

Now was not the time for a mental breakdown.

He had to warn Charley of the danger. He caught sight of her then, in the truck, on the road out in front of the rescue.

She was a sitting duck there. He leaped into the air and landed with a resounding thud on the hood of the truck, the metal buckling partially under his weight.

Twisting around, he locked gazes with her, willing her to hear him—to read his thoughts.

You’re in danger! Drive! Fast! Go!

All she did was stare up at him through the windshield with a shocked expression, frozen, like a deer in headlights. For a second, he thought she might turn the wipers on or spray windshield fluid at him. She didn’t budge.

He snarled, the sound deep, from the gut, echoing all around him.

Charley went ramrod stiff in the truck, doing the opposite of what he wanted her to do.

Damn woman.

She clearly took after her father when it came to common sense and listening.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the area, followed quickly by thunder booming all around them. Still, Charley didn’t move the truck. She just sat there, her eyes wide, fear coming off her in waves.

The hybrids chose then to move in, emerging from the grassy field across from the rescue.

More lightning, followed quickly by rumbling thunder came as sheets of rain came sideways at Jesse.

His focus moved fully to the hybrids who were forming a circle around the truck.

He was outnumbered but that didn’t matter.

He wasn’t about to back down. He bared his teeth, slashing a paw out in their direction, snarling—the only warning he’d give.

Leave now or risk death.

The message was clear.

Jesse caught the scent of Mr. Smitten a second before a hybrid leaped into the air, coming straight for him. Lifting his paw, Jesse swatted the asshole, knocking him off his path, sending him to the hard pavement with a satisfying thud.

Charley’s fear increased, nearly yanking Jesse’s attention to her.

She hit the horn, jarring his focus from the hybrids.

He looked back at her at the same second a different hybrid slammed into him, its teeth sinking into Jesse’s front leg.

Pain shot through him as he tumbled off the hood of the truck, the hybrid still attached to him.

Jesse snarled and bit at the hybrid, only to realize it was Masturbator.

Great. Just fucking great.

The guy who couldn’t keep his hand off his dick, currently had his mouth clamped around Jesse’s leg. Another hybrid, more than likely Jean-Guy, seized the opening and came at Jesse from the other side, biting Jesse in the side. The hybrid tore its mouth back, taking a huge chunk of flesh with it.

Masturbator raced away, into the darkness.

Ignoring the overwhelming pain, Jesse twisted wildly, breaking Masturbator’s hold on his leg and catching the asshole in the side of the face. Jesse’s claws were met with flesh and bone. The hybrid yipped and jerked back, blood going everywhere.

Jean-Guy came at Jesse again but this time, Jesse was ready and reared up, just as the thundering sound of hooves filled the area. The ground shook and the smell of a horse came whipping at Jesse in the wind. It was familiar. Very fucking familiar.

His head filled with memories of when he’d last been involved with an attack at the rescue. When Charley was little. And when Ace Hargraves was working there as a ranch hand.

Just then, a massive horse came up and over the split-rail fence from the grassy area across from the rescue. There was no mistaking it for anything other than what it was—a shifter. Horses simply didn’t come that big. Flecks of red showed in its otherwise black eyes.

Ace came straight for Jesse and Jean-Guy.

It struck the two of them like they were bowling pins and it was on a mission from the gods to get a strike.

The impact knocked Jesse and Jean-Guy apart and managed to knock the wind out of Jesse.

He was left lying on his side on the wet pavement, rain pelting him, lightning flashing in the sky and thunder booming all around him.

For a second, the moment felt surreal—almost dreamlike.

His ears rang and he realized Ace had effectively rung his bell.

All Jesse could hope was that Jean-Guy was having equally as bad of a night.

Jesse tried to move. Nothing happened. He had to wonder how many bones Ace had broken on him. It had to be more than one.

Fuck. I’m too old for this bullshit, Jesse thought as he tried again to get up. This time, it worked—barely. He got to his feet only to tip and nearly fall. His cat form was normally graceful and agile. Now he felt like a drunken fraternity boy who had been on a bender.

He looked up to find Jean-Guy stumbling around too. He turned and hightailed it in the same direction that Masturbator had run off in.

Good.

Fucking coward.

Jesse was feeling pretty cocky, despite his own wounds and broken bones. Movement from the grassy area across from the rescue caught his attention. At first, he didn’t see anything. The grass was too tall. Then a familiar smell found him.

Cigarettes and pine.

A mix he had committed to memory.

Efren and Peters?

No. It couldn’t be.

Could it?

He sniffed the air again, trying to sort through all the other smells.

Then, the grass parted and Jesse saw who was there.

Peters—in coyote form. He was bigger than Jesse remembered him being and something was off—a new scent that was hidden under the others. When Jesse realized what it was, he jerked back slightly.

Rot.

The same rot the hybrids smelled of.

Had The Corporation done something to Peters? Had they experimented on him like they had the hybrids?

Jesse snarled at the bastard and went to charge him only to have Peters turn fast and dart off in the opposite direction the hybrids had gone.

Jesse gave chase. He knew he shouldn’t follow.

That it was more than likely a trap and that he was too injured to defend himself, but he didn’t care.

He wanted to rip out Peters’ throat with his teeth.

He ran, staying on the trail of Peters.

Thoughts of Lindy suddenly burst through Jesse’s head. It was so jarring that he veered off course and stumbled. He fell and rolled, the pain in his body pure agony. Images of Lindy flashed before his eyes and every alarm in his body went off.

Danger.

She was unguarded.

Jesse made a split-second decision, continue after Peters for the revenge he’d been dreaming of for years, or go to Lindy to protect her. The choice shouldn’t have been hard. Hell, he’d spent years wanting to kill Peters. Yet he found his worry for Lindy outweighing his need for vengeance.

He was up and moving in the direction of her home before he’d even fully registered the decision had been made. He was mile or so from her home when something began to tug at his gut, forcing him to change course.

He gave in, doing what instinct demanded. When he realized he was headed for the bar—not her home, he increased his pace.

She was at work still and if he was right the bar had closed already, meaning she’d be extra vulnerable and possibly alone. The rational part of himself knew he should be somewhere safe, nursing his wounds.

His side and back leg practically screamed in pain, each shift of weight sending fresh agony through his battered body. He should be seeking somewhere warm and dry and seeing just how badly he was injured.

As he approached the bar, he caught faint notes of pine and cigarettes. The same brand he knew Peters and Efren smoked. Had Peters somehow beat Jesse there? Or was the scent older? The storm made it impossible to tell. Jesse was lucky he’d caught any smells over it all.

Rain hit Jesse from what felt like all angles. Each droplet felt like a tiny razor against the wounds on his body. He slowed his pace, coming to a stop in the grassy area that was out behind the bar. It was then Lindy’s scent reached him, faint but there, almost as if welcoming him.

He fought the urge to charge the building, knock down the back door and find Lindy.

In his current state—fully shifted and bleeding everywhere—he’d scare the ever-loving shit out of her.

It was one thing to sleep on her porch, watching over her, it was another for her to accept him showing up at her place of employment, bursting in and bloody.

Thunder cracked overhead, and the security light flickered ominously. Jesse's gaze fixed on the failing light. Faulty security equipment was an invitation for trouble. He'd come back tomorrow night and fix it properly.

He looked for any signs of the hybrids or of Peters.

Other than the faint smells, there was nothing.

Had he imagined the threat to her? Fuck. Had he imagined Peters? Was blood loss causing him to hallucinate?

Lindy’s scent found its way to him, helping him to focus. He thought about how peaceful she’d looked while sleeping in the chair last night and how much it had pained him to walk away from her before she woke.

Take her , his beast roared from within. Claim her!

That ripped him from the edge of shifting and left him easing back into the tall grass more, stunned by the beast’s outburst and its request. Claim her?

Never before in his life had it ever suggested such a thing.

Normally, it, like him, was a fuck them and leave them kind of cat.

It was one of the few things he and his beast agreed on without issue.

To hear it voice otherwise was jarring, to say the least.