Claws Bared

  Claws Bared

  By Sheryl Nantus

  Book two of Blood of the Pride

  Rebecca Desjardin, a P.I. and cat shifter, doesn’t normally find herself in strip clubs. But a popular male dancer has been murdered in Pennsylvania, and it looks like the work of a shifter from the local Pride. Rebecca has a duty to help protect her kind—and she needs to find justice for the dead.

  Her impromptu trip leaves her boyfriend, reporter Brandon Hanover, unhappy. He’s only just come to terms with the fact that she’s a Felis, and their relationship is still so new… Rebecca is determined to deal with the murder first, then deal with their future.

  As her investigation unfolds, she’s met with grudging cooperation and half-truths. Does the Pride want her to find justice, or help them hide a killer? Frustrated and unable to shake the sexy local shifter who says he’s on her side, Rebecca can’t seem to scratch out the truth—at least not on her own. But when Brandon shows up, is he there to help or to mark his territory?

  68,000 words

  Dear Reader,

  In the world of publishing, January is an intimidating month. Mostly because we’re thinking about 2013 long before we want to be. In fact, conversations about 2014 have long since started. How’s that for intimidating? January is also intimidating because we’re expected to set goals and promise great things for the year ahead. That, Carina Press can handle.

  This year, our goal is not only to continue to provide readers with excellent editorial, but also to add a new category of New Adult to our romance line, in order to increase the number of mystery, science-fiction and fantasy titles we publish; to publish returning authors with connected books; and to grow our romance subgenres such as historical romance, GLBT, romantic suspense and erotic romance. You can look forward to all of that happening in 2013!

  In January, we start the year by finishing up Shannon Stacey’s second Kowalski family trilogy with the highly anticipated story of Josh and Katie’s romance, All He Ever Dreamed. If you haven’t read Shannon’s books, you can check out the original Kowalski trilogy for only $4.99 per novel. We also enter 2013 with the paperback release of Fiona Lowe’s 2012 RITA® award-winning contemporary romance, Boomerang Bride.

  Other contemporary romance authors joining Shannon in January include Rachael Johns, kicking off a new contemporary series set in Hollywood with Stand-In Star, and Liz Flaherty with Jar of Dreams. Liz’s debut romance, One More Summer, was described by reviewers as “compelling and addictive” and “one incredible story.”

  On the other end of the romance spectrum are several paranormal, urban fantasy and steampunk romance releases this month. Coleen Kwan returns with the sequel to her fun steampunk romance Asher’s Invention. Asher’s Dilemma brings you the continued romance of Asher and Minerva in a clockwork world.

  Two other continuing series return with fantastic installments. Claws Bared by Sheryl Nantus is the next story in her Blood of the Pride series. And Sandy James offers up The Impetuous Amazon, the second book in the Alliance of the Amazons series. Meanwhile, a new paranormal trilogy begins with Stacy Gail’s Nobody’s Angel, which brings us a tale of Nephilim and sassy heroines. Look for the second book, Savage Angel, in February.

  Cathy Pegau takes us into space with her newest science-fiction romance, Caught in Amber, while Eleri Stone takes us to a world steeped in fantasy and wrapped with pleasure in Threads of Desire, her erotic fantasy romance. Keeping us in the here and now, with more erotic sexy-times, is Callie Croix’s newest erotic contemporary romance, Covert Seduction.

  We’re pleased to welcome mystery author Wendy Roberts to Carina Press with her newest mystery, Grounds to Kill. We’re also pleased that Julie Moffett has chosen to reissue her Scottish historical romance, The Thorn & the Thistle, with us in January.

  Last, to start off 2013, I’m excited to introduce you to our two debut authors. JL Merrow offers up a compelling tale of love through the ages with the male/male historical time travel Trick of Time. Romantic suspense author Ana Barrons will blow away fans of suspense and romance with her debut novel, Wrongfully Accused. Please join me in giving these two authors a warm welcome to Carina Press (by buying their books, of course!).

  I hope you’ll join me for another excellent year of books at Carina Press. Our 2013 schedule is shaping up to be full of books our team loves and can’t wait to get into readers’ hands, including a new trilogy from Fiona Lowe; a compulsively readable new adult romance, Rush Me, from debut author Alison Parr; the last two parts of Jax Garren’s dark Beauty and the Beast retelling; more contemporary romance novels from up-and-coming author Christi Barth; the kickoff of a thrilling urban fantasy series from debut author Steve Vera; more erotic romance compliments of Lynda Aicher; a series of erotic Love Letters from a collection of authors; noir historical mystery Die on Your Feet by debut author S.G. Wong; and another installment of Marie Force’s romantic suspense series.

  This is only a small portion of the amazing books we have coming up in 2013, so please look for these and more from the awesomely talented Carina Press authors.

  We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to generalinquiries@carinapress.com. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.

  Happy reading!

  ~Angela James

  Executive Editor, Carina Press

  www.carinapress.com

  www.twitter.com/carinapress

  www.facebook.com/carinapress

  Dedication

  For my husband, Martin, who doesn’t flinch when I wander around the house mumbling plot points to myself and forgetting to make dinner because I’m on a writing roll—coming up on twenty years together and he still “gets” me!

  And for Jazz—you are still loved and missed, you sweet fuzzaloid…

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to thank everyone at Carina Press for their talent and dedication in helping me tell my story in the best way possible. From the faboo art department to my editor Alissa Davis who edits the heck out of my work until the diamonds come out of the coal, to Angela James who first decided to take a chance on me—thank you!

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  I hadn’t ordered any airline tickets.

  I looked inside the open envelope with a mixture of surprise, dismay and confusion.

  The bike courier let out a loud cough, covering his mouth with a gloved hand. I paused for a second, trying to figure out what he wanted. I’d already signed his clipboard and accepted delivery, expecting to find a court subpoena—I was used to having to testify on the stand both for and against my clients. Being a private investigator meant doing almost as much court time as investigating—the movies tend to leave that less glamorous part out.

  Airline tickets weren’t even on my radar.

  He coughed again and wriggled his fingers. I caught on before he had to explain his chronic illness.

  I dug in my pocket and found enough spare change to not embarrass myself. Handing it to the courier, I turned my attention back to the envelope.

  The young man stuffed the coins into his pocket and threw me a jaunty salute before sprinting off through my small yard.
He yanked his bike away from the rose bushes lining the front and jumped back out into traffic, the tires leaping in the air like some warped rearing horse.

  I grimaced at the sound of screaming brakes coming from around the corner. Not hearing anyone calling for an ambulance, I closed the door and headed for my work desk. Running your business out of your home had certain advantages—like not having to worry about getting fully dressed for work. I wriggled my bare toes and sat down.

  The drab brown envelope from a local travel agency held tickets from Toronto, Ontario, to Pittsburgh, PA. Open return, one person in my name. Leaving that evening. I sat down at my desk and scowled at the elderly white cat sprawled over the file folders.

  “This is your doing, isn’t it? Revenge because I wouldn’t let you be a little piglet and get sick on that tuna.”

  Jazz turned her steady gaze on me for another few seconds before licking her paws.

  I turned my attention to the envelope. Standard brown envelope with nothing inside other than the travel agency’s business card. No mention of who had sent it or who had paid for it.

  I had a pretty good idea.

  I lifted the envelope to my nose and inhaled. Human scent, nothing out of the ordinary. Multiple humans including my stinky messenger and a woman who wore way too much perfume.

  The phone rang.

  I snatched up the receiver, blowing away a wayward tuft of white cat fur. Jazz gave a short trill of approval.

  “Reb.” I clenched my fist at the low voice purring my name. “Glad to see you’re home.”

  “Hi, Jess. Yes, just in time to receive this envelope.” I tapped the thick folder on the varnished desktop. “I assume you’ve got something to do with this.”

  “Maybe.”

  “So why shouldn’t I drop this into my shredder?” I snapped, harsher than I’d intended.

  I was missing Bran something awful.

  Jazz dropped from the desk and trotted out of the room, picking up on my mood.

  “Reb, is that any way to talk to a Board member?” The snarl in her voice sent phantom pains over my back, where the scars were. I resisted the urge to sit up straight in my chair.

  “Is that any way to talk to an outcast? I do you one favor and suddenly I’m on your mailing list? I’m not part of the Pride and I don’t have to answer to you.” I kept my voice steady despite the butterflies in my stomach. “You declared me outcast twenty years ago and threw me into foster care, banished me from the family. I haven’t forgotten that.”

  Or forgiven. The scars throbbed, reminders of the thrashing I’d gotten at Jess’s claws in a final test of my ability to Change.

  I’d failed. Spectacularly.

  “Oh, snap. Is that the way it’s going to be, then?” The jovial tone didn’t trick me. Jess hadn’t earned and kept her position without having invisible wheels turning in a thousand different directions. “Do I have to thank you again for helping us find out who killed Janey Winters?”

  “It wouldn’t hurt.” My eyes flickered to my checkbook sitting nearby. I’d burned through the Pride’s “appreciation” check already, thanks to some overdue bills and being head-over-heels in love, which didn’t leave much time for taking on new cases.

  “I can’t go to the United States.” I waved the tickets in the air. “I don’t have a passport.”

  “It should be there within the hour. Took a bit longer to get it approved than usual. You know these paper pushers, always making sure the t’s are crossed and the i’s dotted.”

  “I never applied for one.” I ground my teeth together. I’d forgotten the extent of the family’s reach.

  “Sure you did, you just forgot.” Each word dragged fingernails over a mental blackboard. “Understandable, given that you’re coming up on your three-month anniversary. I take it you’re still seeing the human.”

  The throbbing behind my left eye started. “His name is Brandon Hanover and yes, we’re still together. He’s on assignment right now for his newspaper and why am I telling you something you already know?” I rubbed my face with one palm, resisting the urge to throw the phone across the room. “Jess, why are you bothering me? I’ve got work to do.”

  “No you don’t.” The invisible claws came out, ready to sink into my hide. “You’ve got nothing on your schedule at present and you need work. Coincidentally we need someone.”

  I didn’t have to ask who “we” were.

  “And if I say no?”

  “You say no.” I heard the shrug over the phone line. “But I thought you liked seeing justice done.”

  I glanced at the stack of unpaid bills on the desk. Good loving didn’t keep the creditors away.

  “Okay, give me the details.” I grabbed up a pencil and a yellow legal pad.

  “Small town about two hours south of Pittsburgh, name of Penscotta. You’re going down to see Police Chief Carson. Dax Carson.”

  I chuckled. “Nice name. Sounds like a science-fiction hero.”

  Jesse’s tone didn’t shift. “He’s on the Board of the local Pride and he has a problem.”

  “Something they can’t handle on their own?” I kept the surprise out of my voice. If I recalled correctly it took a major event to ask for help from another Pride. We tended to keep as much as we could in-house for the sake of secrecy.

  “A dead human.” The slight scorn vibrated through the lines. “They want a neutral investigator because it’s likely one of their own who did the killing.” Her tone changed. “The Grand Council’s been alerted and they’re watching too. Bad for them, bad for us. Good for you.”

  I frowned. The Grand Council helped develop and direct policy for all the Prides, deciding what was best for the Felis as an entire species and leaving the local decisions to the individual Boards. Recently the Council had been alerted to the existence of half-breeds, thanks to my work, and was still discussing how to deal with them. The biggest worry was, as with the Winters case, of an orphaned or abandoned Felis half-breed running free without any restraints or concerns about exposing the family to public scrutiny.

  Killing a human was a rare event in the Felis world. We avoided fighting with anyone other than other Felis on principle, our inherent feline skills giving us an edge few humans could match. If we had a beef we would walk away and risk being called cowards rather than take the chance we’d lose control and kill a human.

  Now someone had lost control and we could all pay the price.

  I rubbed the tip of my nose. “What’s my fee?”

  “Send me an email with your terms. We’ll agree, pay and extract the money from the other Pride.”

  I couldn’t suppress a grin. “So sure I’m not going to rip you off?”

  “I know you, Reb. Better than you know yourself. Chief’ll meet you at the airport.” The line went dead.

  I dropped the handset back into the cradle and glared at the ticket. Jazz hopped up onto the table and strode across the envelope to headbutt me, forehead to forehead. My little sister always had a way of helping me feel better.

  “Yeah. This is going to suck.”

  It took me a few minutes to start the kettle boiling for a fresh pot of tea, during which I went over my options.

  I could shred the ticket. I had no obligation to the Pride that had thrown me out like trash so many years ago. Jess had no way of making me take this case; there was nothing she could offer me or threaten me with.

  But a man was dead.

  If I didn’t try to find the killer, no one would. Carson might be a good cop but he was both Felis and a Board member. If it got too close to someone important in the Pride, he’d hide the evidence and bury the body forever. That’s why the Grand Council wanted a neutral observer, someone without a stake in the hunt. Someone who wasn’t afraid to drag one of our own into the light, no matter how blazing hot it could get.

  That would be me.

  I tossed the two teabags into the new Brown Betty, a replacement for the one I’d lost recently during a home invasion linked to th
e Winters case. Jazz trilled from below, winding through my feet.

  “I know.” I tossed her a handful of cat treats, the hard nuggets bouncing across the floor. “Don’t say a word.”

  The kettle whistled and I filled the teapot, killing a few more seconds.

  I went upstairs to start up the ancient monolith known as my home computer. It coughed and whined but carried me online without any problem.

  Penscotta, Pennsylvania, was a little town sitting on the Monongahela River, an hour south of Pittsburgh. Built on the coal mining industry, it’d been socked with the same economic depression slamming into most of the state in the past few decades, pushing the town into survival mode. People bought cheap houses and commuted elsewhere to shop and work. High unemployment, medium crime and a lot of unhappiness. It was a common story in a lot of small towns, sad to say.

  Despite the economic woes, Penscotta had a population of about ten thousand, enough to not only keep a police chief and his force busy but also to contain and nurture a Felis Pride.

  I didn’t bother trying to dig further about Carson. The information I needed wasn’t going to be found online. The family kept secrets better than, well, the “other” family.

  I strode back to the kitchen and grabbed a mug from the pile in the sink to wash out. I felt wrong, out of sorts. It was like having an itch I couldn’t reach but I wasn’t sure if I wanted it scratched at all—once I started I just might not stop.

  Grabbing a ginger snap cookie from the bag on the counter helped settle me for a minute. I jammed it into my mouth while waiting for the tap water to move from arctic cold to tepid warm.

  I just couldn’t get used to not being single. I hadn’t been a social butterfly before, leaping from bed to bed, but the last few months with Bran had settled me and...unsettled me. Having to share my life with someone was a strange experience, something I hadn’t ever prepared for.

  When I left the farm, thrust into the foster care system, I’d been alone. I’d built my life as an outcast, romance novels and the occasional one-night stand my only release for any pent-up sexual tension. I didn’t need anyone and didn’t necessarily want anyone in my life.