Iona and Eric left Diego and Cass to be alone with their child, and went to celebrate with the other Shifters who waited in the lobby. Jace, all smiles, kept breaking into a gyrating dance. Because he was as handsome as his father at thirty years old, the nurses at the front desk enjoyed feasting their eyes on him.

Iona’s eyes were filled with tears. “That was so wonderful.”

Eric held her close, kissing the top of her head. Shane and Brody fell into teasing each other and laughing, loudly, the bear brothers excited. Bringing in a cub—successfully, with mother and cub alive and well—was a cause for great celebration.

Diego came down after a time to report that Cassidy and the baby were sleeping. He looked wrung out, triumphant, radiantly happy, and exhausted. Xavier put an arm around him and declared that Diego could use a drink.

Cassidy had asked for Iona before she’d fallen asleep, and Iona gladly went back upstairs. Shane, Brody, and Jace stayed as honorary guards, while Eric said it was his task to go back to Shiftertown and spread the glad news. Neal went with him, his usually taciturn face bathed in smiles, the Guardian happily not needed today.

Upstairs, the nurses had rolled a baby bed next to Cassidy’s so Cass could be near Amanda while they slept. Iona lay in an armchair, her feet over one of its arms, drowsing in the warmth of the room, the curtains pulled closed against the sunshine.

Iona didn’t mean to sleep, but she jumped awake into sudden silence, knowing someone had entered the room.

Her Shifter nose told her it wasn’t Diego or Eric or even another Shifter. She began to swing up from the chair, ready to fight.

Her hand contacted a human man hovering over her in the dim light, but though the man grunted in pain, Iona felt the prick of a needle in her skin, and her limbs suddenly stopped working.

Iona tried to shout to Cassidy, but the floor rushed up to her, and blackness closed in. The last thing Iona saw was a man in a white mask bending over Cassidy and Amanda, and then nothing.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Iona drifted to wakefulness, stiff, sore, and angry, though she didn’t remember why she was angry. She also didn’t remember the beds in Eric’s house being so uncomfortable.

No, she seemed to be on a chair. Had she fallen asleep in the living room? But even those chairs weren’t as uncomfortable as this one.

Then Iona remembered—she was at the clinic with Cassidy. She’d dozed off in an armchair while Cassidy and baby Amanda snoozed across the room. Then someone had come in…

The panther in her came wide awake, though Iona kept her eyes closed. The memory of the wrong scent, the human bending over her, then the prick of a needle had her Shifter as alert as a predator spotting elusive prey.

Iona stretched her other senses without opening her eyes, not wanting to alert whoever had attacked her that she was awake again.

The scent of this room was different from Cassidy’s room in the clinic. That one had borne the overlapping hospital scents of antiseptic, people, and the faint, faraway odor of urine. This room was dusty and dry, and the tickle of rust spores touched her nose.

Iona also scented Cassidy lying nearby and heard her breathing. That was a relief.

What she did not scent was the powdery, new-baby smell of Amanda.

Iona sensed no one else—not human or Shifter—and she risked opening her eyes a crack.

The only light came from a window high in the wall that showed a patch of twilit sky. The dim light revealed that she was in another hospital room, but one that looked as though it hadn’t been used in a long time.

Cassidy lay on what looked like a gurney, her arms and legs unnaturally stiff. Iona saw why as her Shifter sight adjusted to the light—Cassidy’s wrists and ankles were locked down with metal cuffs. A bag of clear liquid hung on a stand next to Cassidy, an IV drip snaking into her arm. Iona definitely didn’t like that.

No one else seemed to be in the room or even outside it. Iona strained to listen, but her Shifter hearing picked up nothing beyond the door. Either the hallway was deserted, or the room was well soundproofed.

Iona had been tied to the metal and plastic chair on which she sat, but with ordinary rope. The rope was cheap, its prickly, synthetic fibers chafing her wrists, but it was strong.

Not strong enough for a Shifter, however.

They still think I’m human. A normal human might not be able to extricate herself from the bonds, but a Shifter easily could.

The panther within her urged caution. If their captors believed Iona to be human, of minimal danger to them, she needed to let them keep on thinking that.

Iona scanned the room for webcams or other cameras or listening devices. She saw nothing, but that didn’t mean they weren’t cleverly hidden.

The room grew darker, night coming quickly in the winter desert. Iona contained her impatience and waited as the sun continued its descent.

No lights came on when the last of the sunlight winked out. Iona waited another five minutes, making herself count every second, until at last she sat in full darkness.

Think of the form you want to be, then be it.

Iona pictured her limbs becoming those of her panther, slender and strong. She suppressed the growl in her throat as her arms and legs changed, black fur emerging over flesh.

She spread her front paws. The plastic ropes stretched, then slackened enough for Iona to easily slip out. Her dainty panther paws also slid quickly out of the ropes that bound her feet.

Iona closed her eyes again and willed herself back to human. Leaning over, she slipped her shoes on and leveraged herself silently from the chair.