Page 1 of Finding His Way (The Protetors #5)

M iami

The light at the far end of the street flickered, obviously on its last leg. The overwhelming stench of piss and alcohol permeated the air. No dumpsters for anyone to hide behind, no doorways, not much of anything.

The Crown Vic that rolled into the area did so in the manner of a dark wraith, silent and sneaky without flashing lights or screaming sirens. The tires rotated over the pavement, making tiny snaps and pops on the small rocks and trash.

It parked, idling, while both front doors opened and two figures stepped from the interior. The humid air clinging to each of them in the manner of a wayward dryer sheet to the inside of a sleeve. Each person held a Glock as they made their way to the front of the car.

“Where are they?”

The woman’s voice was low and tense. She shifted her weight and slid to the left, eyes moving methodically, not sporadically or frantic, but with a measure of calm that had come from years of experience.

The man with her, shrugged and pointed toward the end of the alley without saying a single word. She sneered without a word, her partner was useless. A slight acidic breeze curved around them, ruffling the thinning hair and ill-fitting cut of his dress shirt. A tie and suit coat long having been relegated to the backseat of the car. His gut, once tight and flat now pressed against the buttons, straining their sturdiness. A hawkish nose took up the majority of his feature’s focus.

With a low growl of frustration, the woman took point and headed away from the car, gun ready to fire if needed. She hated this part, the not knowing but it all came with the damn job. And she was brilliant at it. Nope, not bragging, simply a fact.

The silence of the area was broken up by the revving of a powerful engine. Whipping around, the woman lifted her gun to fire and got off two shots at the car that ran her down, tossing her up over the hood of the sedan to slam into the windshield, rendering her unconscious. No sign of the partner who’d been with her.

Brake lights lit up the liquid on the asphalt ever so briefly. The driver got out and rushed to the prone body and checked for a pulse, then lifted her up and dropped her over his shoulder with zero care. The jarring hits had knocked her bun down and a waterfall of micro-braids fell around her face as she was carried and deposited without ceremony in the trunk.

The man was in such a rush to get out of there, he didn’t notice—or care—about the badge and holder that lay open on the ground. The yellowish light from a nearby pole highlighted it as the flickers continued. A steady rain started and the drops splashed on the plastic holder covering both the badge as well as the identification and ran down between the letters of the name there.

Detective Dianna Levitt.

Two months later, Khasansky District

“Would it kill you to pick up your fucking phone any one of the first five times I called?”

Jeremy Ruscino shrugged even though the man on the other end, Lando Vargas, couldn’t see him as they were on different continents. Pushing a hand through his shaggy dark blond hair, Jeremy braced a shoulder against the tree as he stared out over the area. Sparse and barren in this wintery weather, he continued to search for what he sought.

“Been busy.” The wind shifted and he lifted his face into the breeze, both for a wake up call, the freezing wind and snow would help with that and to ensure he was still safe. This area was not one he should ever not be aware in. Not that he was caught unaware, his cat made sure, even if he was occupied with something else to keep its senses open. He shifted his weight against the trunk, the rough bark not bothering him in the slightest.

“Thought we were all taking some time off.”

Did he detect reprimand in the man’s tone? Yes, yes he definitely had. Didn’t matter that Lando could shift into a four hundred and fifty pound black jaguar. The man wasn’t his alpha. In fact, no one was. He worked with Lando purely because he respected him, end of story. Not because there existed some sort of misguided loyalty to the shifter.

Well, perhaps there was some, for he would go through hell for the man if he asked. Heck, he’d do it for any of the small group he worked with. A surprising shock, in all actuality, given how much of a loner he was, but these guys were worth his loyalty. All four of them. They were his second family.

“I am taking time off…from Search and Rescue.”

That wasn’t his only job and one of his others was the reason he was close to the China-North Korea-Russian tripoint. He was here for a retrieval. This was what he was best at. Bringing something, or someone in, without regard to how others felt about it. He took a job, got paid, and moved on. Doing search and rescues, he a lot of the times had to be gentle and kind for they were scared and hurt.

I’m neither gentle nor kind.

He wasn’t either. He had lived a rough life, still did, and was a survivor. That meant, oftentimes being the strongest one and doing what was needed to wake up the next day and possibly get some food.

“There is so much to unpack in that single statement, but I don’t give a fuck right now. How soon can you get back?”

The question snapped him back to the here and now. There was a thread of something in Lando’s voice that set Jeremy on edge. He really didn’t like the ripple of anger from his leopard.

“What’s going on? You didn’t leave a message that there was a problem.”

“Didn’t think you would ghost us.” Definitely reprimand.

His leopard, who had been checking the area around them for potential dangers, went predator still, every single muscle locked and loaded. As if he knew something Jeremy had yet to learn. “What. Is. Wrong?”

“Dianna. She’s been missing for two months.”

Ice lodged at his spine and coated the cord, leeching into his muscles as well. On the heels of that, rage. A mixture of icy and a heat so intense no one could touch it.

“What the fuck did you say?”

Jeremy was already moving. It wasn’t time, not according to his down to the minute planning of this retrieval, to get what he was after but Dianna needed him.

“You heard me fine. I know you don’t like to talk about it, your connection to her but…”

Connection?

That was putting it mildly.

“I’m on my way. Where was she seen last?”

“Miami. We’re all at Jo’s place.”

“I’ll be there within twenty-four hours.”

He ended the call and tipped his head back releasing the raw roar of anger and warning that had been burning the back of his mouth since he heard the news. The few birds that had been making noise took to the air and the rest of the animals fell silent.

A predator was hunting. While generally Amur leopards were nocturnal, the creatures in the area never failed to go quiet when one appeared.

He took off at a quick clip, keeping to his preplanned path. Even if his timeline had moved up, he would still keep to the same plan, only the time had changed and he knew that his target remained.

The building he sought stood alone in the trees on the edge of one of the nature reserves in the area, Kedrovaya Pad. The ground covered in frozen snow and ice didn’t stop him, nor did it slow him down. He had learned a long time ago how not to leave any tracks in human form, or his animal, if he didn’t wish it.

Today, he didn’t wish it.

There wasn’t any smoke coming from the single chimney, yet he knew his target was inside, through that door. He smelled him and heard the chattering of his teeth. Dipping into the forest, he moved swiftly but with caution, looking out for any traps that the man may have set.

Jeremy found three. Not too bad, but not nearly good enough for him to get caught unawares. Had his cat not been so pissed off that Dianna was in danger, he would have been amused by the attempt to hide from him. As it was, he wasn’t remotely amused. Irritated and furious would be a far more apt description.

That woman. She needs her ass beat for going off grid and worrying her friends.

This place was meant to be a shack to keep an eye out for poachers and to watch the animals, it wasn’t set up with a lot of comforts. But it had windows so he crept up to one, peered in, located his target and made his move. The man didn’t stand a chance.

After all, Jeremy had a plane to catch.

Three hours later, Jeremy sat back in the buttery smooth leather seat of the private jet he was on, his target having been delivered. The interior darkened the way he preferred and he stretched out long legs even while reclining the seat.

Sleep was essential right now so he could hit the ground running when it came down to finding Dianna.

“Bend over.”

He almost didn’t recognize his own voice, so deep and growled as it rolled from his vocal cords.

The woman standing naked by the couch, tossed a saucy look over one shoulder, the streaming waterfall of braids brushing dark brown skin before she followed his directive. Bending at the waist, her perfect ass stuck out, begging his hand to strike.

Multiple times until that dark skinned tinged red and she whimpered beneath his palm.

His cock throbbed in his jeans, even having undone the button earlier, it still pressed insistently against the fly. He grabbed his thickness and squeezed, needing not to soak his jeans with his own come before he got to sink into her tight pussy.

“Bored.”

One word preceded her standing upright and facing him completely. His cock jerked in response to the full frontal view of her naked body. He flexed his grip again, trailing his gaze down over a fit body. High, tight breasts and a pussy as bare as the rest of her, thick lips glistening with her own need.

Freeing himself, he began to stroke, noticing how her breath shortened as she locked her gaze on his hand as he pumped, pushing the swollen, angry head through his fist.

“I said bend over.”

She didn’t listen. Instead, she lifted a leg and positioned her foot on the back of the couch he’d planned on her staying bent over. The move opened her up more to his hungry gaze. Precum leaked from his cock, adding to ease the glide of his hand.

“And I said I’m bored.”

She trailed one hand down between her breasts and on to sink two fingers where she was wet. Where he longed to be so deep she didn’t breathe without him feeling it and where she’d always feel him even when he no longer resided within.

He stalked toward her. “Can’t have that now, can we.”

It wasn’t a question. He didn’t slow as he got into her space, simply moved one arm under the leg up on the couch, to give more support, smacked the head of his dick against her clit twice and thrust deep.

“Holy—”

“Sir. Sir. We’re getting ready to land, I need to you put your seat up please.”

Jeremy snarled as the flight attendant woke him before he could get what he wanted. The woman’s face was a blur, they always were but it didn’t matter. He knew exactly who it was that haunted his dreams.

Dianna Levitt.

Always had, since the first time he’d met her with her little group of friends. His cat had not shown much more than a passing interest in her initially. But the more he got to know her, her strength, her spirit, her passion. The more they’d both fallen for her.

A feeling which had solidified one passionate night in the jungle after a long sweaty night of dancing, celebrating and far too much drinking. A night that had been the last time he’d seen her as she slipped away, leaving him with nothing more than her memory and the scent of her embedded into him mingling with an overwhelming, possessive need to claim her as his own. An unknown emotion for him, never had he felt the call of his mate before then.

Tips of razor sharp claws pricked into his palm, signaling the loss of his iron control. Whomever took her, would pay.

αβ

Dianna Levitt rolled her shoulders as she paced the small room she’d been held in for the past fifty-nine days. At least, that’s what she had been counting, perhaps a bit longer from when she’d been knocked on her ass, literally, and taken. Thirty steps long and fifteen wide. She had a small mattress that didn’t do much in the way of comfort, hell, it may have hindered. But she slept on it nighty, regardless.

Her long braids were gone and her hair sat shoulder length, a ratty mess she knew. Once a week, her captures took her out and doused her with water, not enough she could actually wash but enough to soak her clothes and make the next few nights unbearable as she shivered.

I’m so not in Miami.

Problem was, she had no clue where she was. After the car launched her ass over head and knocked her out, she’d woken here. And had no clue where here was. They never spoke, she didn’t get to see any part of them other than body size. The men were big. However, arms, legs, faces, all were covered.

Hell, she couldn’t even confirm they were men. Logic dictated the were from size alone, but she’d be lying if she claimed she’d not met some big women in her time.

Never one did anyone speak to her. She’d called out for days until she lost her voice. If there was a camera in here with her, she hadn’t found it. She woke, worked out, ate the pittance they considered food here, and worked out more until exhaustion took over.

A fact it happened earlier each day bothered her. The last thing she needed to be was weakened. Working out helped prevent that, on the other hand, it also helped keep her partially warm.

Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. She continued her routine. A few spots had some straw on the floor, honestly, she moved most of that under the mattress to try and give her a bit more distance from the freezing floor. Every bit of insulation helped. She didn’t have a blanket and the nights here got fucking cold.

I’m lucky I’ve not gotten frostbite.

Hell, perhaps she had and simply didn’t know it.

If they were on the same schedule they had been, she should be taken outside today for another splash bath and she wanted to see if she could pick up on anything.

No one is coming for me. No one knows where I am. If I’m going to survive this, I have to get out on my own.

Honestly, she depended on herself more often than not, so this was fine. Sure it is .

Okay, so that insidious ugly voice in the back of her head that said you have no friends and are expendable , wasn’t helping. At all.

Friends? She had a few, but she’d distanced herself from all of them recently. Using work as her excuse. There were a couple of fellow badges that she worked with she would go out with on occasion but even that had been slowed to nearly nothing. The person she spent the most time with was her partner and she had no idea at all what had happened to him. He wasn’t her favorite and had become disgusted with the lack of ambition he had in his career and by effect in hers. She wanted to keep moving up, he seemed okay to float by on mediocracy.

Sometimes she believed he’d been behind her when she’d spun to find the car heading a direct line toward her. Others, she couldn’t recall seeing him at all, not since she’d taken point and headed to the end of the alleyway they needed to check out.

Human trafficking was serious and she would always go above and beyond to help solve cases and break up rings. And that’s what they had been there to suss out.

That didn’t go well. At least, not for me.

But while she was a lot of things, a quitter wasn’t one of them.

Dianna stopped pacing and rubbed her chest. It hurt. I hurt . And not merely a physical pain, something deeper than that and she wasn’t sure how to handle it, so she did what she always did. Toss up walls and push people away.

She was damn good at her job. Dianna snorted. “I was until I got blindsided at the docks.”

It still bothered her. The events of that night. They’d had a tip called in which in turn had sent her and Michaelson to check it out. She stopped pacing and braced one hand against the cold wall.

Damn it!

Recollection wasn’t coming. Nothing past arriving and getting out of the car. She hadn’t been shot but hit. By a goddamn car. Other than that, though, she didn’t know.

“I won’t complain about the mugginess of Miami again though. I’m fucking cold.”

And she had been for a while now. The unpleasant feeling had become a way of her new life. Increasing after they thrust the water on her.

The door swung open. She’d not heard them coming, however, she never did. The walls were thick as fuck. If there were others wherever she was, she never heard a single peep out of any of them.

She didn’t make them get her, simply walked obediently to the door where two waited. One on each side of her, not touching, but she knew it wouldn’t take much out of her for them to manacle strong hands onto her body and force whatever they wanted. While she was out getting her weekly douse, someone would switch out the bucket she had for a bathroom.

Head down, doing her best to appear weak and cowed, she shuffled along. Squinting her eyes against the glare, she couldn’t repress the shiver, even if she wanted when the cold wind bit into her exposed skin.

Again, without direction, she moved to stand in the same spot she had for the previous weeks and waited. Through slitted lids, she gazed around best she could without alerting anyone as to her actions.

Forest. No city sounds. Fair enough, you could be in the Glades and not hear the hustle and bustle of Miami.

I’m definitely not in the Glades. Not close to Miami because it’s to damn cold. Add to that, there’s snow on the ground and no way I am still in Miami.

It wasn’t fresh snow for she didn’t spy boot prints when those watching her moved. Crusted over and thick if it didn’t do anything beneath their larger weight. Good to know they would have a harder time tracking her when she made her escape.

See, I can be fucking positive. Just like I am in that my Panthers will bring home Lord Stanley.

Wherever she was, the forest was quiet. She’d learned a few things about being outdoors after one of her best friends got married and moved to the rainforest in Brazil. And there, it wasn’t ever quiet.

Unless a predator was around .

Unease slithered up her spine. Why was it quiet here? Other than the men, what sort of predators did she have to contend with?

Splash!

The icy water smacked her and ran in rivulets down her body. She shivered more as the wind picked up.

Of course it decides now is the time to do that.

Shivering again, she made a step to the left, as usual, only to be brought up short at the press of one large hand against her chest. She opened her eyes to look up at the hooded man before her.

This shit was freaky. Not being able to see a single feature on the person, as he, or she, had zero exposed skin. She bet it was a male. Other than a figure, she wasn’t able to figure more than that. The touch barely lasted three seconds but it made her all the more aware of how much trouble she was in.

The person reached out a hand and another put something in there that was then moved in front of her. Looking away from the place a face should be, she saw what they held. Clothing.

Expecting a trap, she didn’t move. The figure holding them shook them in her direction, still not a single sound emerging from whoever it was.

Caution riddled her but the thought of clean, dry clothing eventually became to much to pass up and she reached out to pluck them from the grip before her. Once she held them she nearly pulled them tight to her and burrowed her face in the heavy material.

Eyes on the one before her, she held still, continuing to expect some kind of hit or attack. All she got was a chin jut.

They wanted her to change here? Now?

Modesty had left her a long time ago, so she undid her slacks she’d worn the day she’d been taken, not that she needed to, her weight loss would have allowed them to slide right down to the ground.

Snowy ground. The wind drove icy spikes into her exposed skin. Standing on the piled material of her pants, she unfolded a pair of workout ones. With zero hesitation, she stepped into them and barely contained the moan of pleasure from escaping as they instantly provided far more protection than her light weight dress slacks.

As soon as she’d managed with her numb fingers to fumble the drawstring tight enough to keep them up, she shook out the top, barely managing to stop the second purr of anticipation from slipping free. The buttons of her top had slowed her down only a tiny bit. Still, she worked them with one hand, not willing to relinquish her hold on the clean, at least warmer, shirt.

Exchanging the thin, Miami approved top with the thicker, wool blend long sleeve shirt, she no longer had the ability to stop her groan. Was she safe?

Not in a hundred years, but she was warmer and they didn’t know what a boost of morale such a thing was to a woman like her. A proud woman. A cop. A survivor .

They may have thought this was something they were going to get away with, but unless they put a bullet in her head, she was going be coming after them. And exacting her revenge. Then she would turn her attention on the one who set this in motion.

First things first. Survive. Escape.

Buttoned up, she curved her fingers into her palms, keeping the skin exposure to as much of a minimum as she could accomplish.

Not even a grunt, simply a gesture with the muzzle of the AK-47. As they moved across the frozen landscape, she realized two things. One, this wasn’t the way back to her hovel. Two, she may have been to optimistic in believing she would get out of here.

A dead body would bring animals to eat, perhaps they didn’t want her close to the hole she’d been kept in because there were others there and they didn’t want to risk them in that way.

Seems pointless to give me clean clothing if they were just going to put a bullet in my heart or head.

Limbs weak, she stumbled a few times on her way to…well, wherever. No one assisted her and she struggled to breathe as they paused at the entrance to a cave. The cold air pained her lungs and they were already struggling with her weakened state. The air remained stale and carried with it wet stone and animal shit.

Past the point of working to never letting them get her to a second location, she didn’t question what they were doing here. Not true, she was questioning it, but there was no energy to fight back. If a chance came later, she would need every bit of her lacking strength to get out.

And I will. Get out.

Two grabbed her and began walking, she figured they were to ensure she didn’t slip away in the dark. Men, they were men. I’m ninety-five percent sure.

While she couldn’t see a damn thing, she allowed them to guide her. Beneath her feet, the floor was surprisingly smooth and it didn’t feel like either of the men half carrying, half dragging her were having to stoop over.

Means wherever this cave is, it’s tall.

Another cold chill took her and it all of her imagination that she was simply at the Amerant Bank Arena waiting for her men to take the ice.

Confused when they paused, she couldn’t stop her shock when they opened a door and pushed her into a room. A warm room.

The lighting wasn’t extreme so there wasn’t to much in the way of allowing her eyes to adjust. Exhausted or not, cop instincts didn’t take a day off. She scoped all she could in as short a time as possible.

Five men, faces exposed. Probably not a good thing for her. Caucasian. Eastern European. Well dressed. Somehow there was a fire along a side, sending flickers of light around and adding into the much appreciated heat.

“Dianna Levitt. Miami detective.”

She swallowed and gave a slow blink.

The man in the middle, built and handsome if she cared to think about it, built like a footballer, stroked a hand down his chin. “You are not surprised I know who you are.”

“No.”

He tipped his head to the left, sandy brown hair slipping forward over his forehead. “Why not?”

“Because I was taken and held. Obviously, you need something from me or I would have already gotten a bullet.”

“Smart.” He glanced to his right. “Not stupid like you said.” Hands in his pockets, he rocked back on his heels as he continued looking at one of the two on that side. “Didn’t you say she was stupid like all Blacks?”