The cat was so close that Diego could feel the hot whuff of its breath. Its ears were flat against its head, and it bared its teeth in a red-lipped snarl. Diego knew he’d never get the tranq rifle around in time or his pistol from its holster. Sometime tomorrow, rangers would find shredded Latino cop all over the bottom of the hill.

He heard a second snarl, this one louder. Another wildcat leapt down from the rocks above, a snow leopard, complete with Collar. Not Eric—this one was a smaller than Eric, and its eyes were a more vibrant green.

The leopard growled, long and low, throat vibrating with menace. The mountain lion’s hackles rose, and it backed away. The snow leopard gave it a narrow-eyed stare, then jumped straight at it. The mountain lion let out one high-pitched yowl and took off up the hill, scattering dirt and gravel behind it.

The snow leopard landed and stopped, watching the mountain lion go with what Diego swore was a satisfied expression. The big cat then turned and looked at Diego with almost glowing green eyes, assessing him.

Diego put his hands around his rifle. If this wasn’t Cassidy Warden, rangers still might find shredded Latino cop all over the hill.

“Cassidy?” he asked.

The wildcat gave him one slow blink, then moved toward him on graceful feet, step by step. Diego watched it come, tensing, but not raising the rifle. The leopard huffed a little, a more friendly sound than the mountain lion had made, then it butted Diego solidly in the stomach.

The push was hard but playful, almost affectionate. The leopard walked around Diego, twining close to his legs like a house cat before it bumped him in the backside.

“That is you, Cassidy, right?”

The wildcat rose, planted large front paws on Diego’s shoulders. Diego overbalanced and went down on his ass, two hundred pounds of wildcat on top of him.

Reflexes made Diego toss aside his rifle and pack before he fell on them, then the leopard settled on his chest, nuzzling him with a soft, whiskered nose.

The wildcat was heavy, but in a warm-blanket way, not a crush-the-prey way. Diego’s rifle had landed just out of reach, and he noticed she’d pinned him so that he couldn’t go for his pistol.

“Good kitty.” Diego put a hand on her shoulder. The cat’s fur was incredibly soft. “What are you doing to me, mi ja?”

The leopard licked across his chin, tongue like very rough sandpaper. Diego couldn’t help grinning. “You know this might be considered soliciting a police officer, don’t you?”

She gave a grunt, heaved herself off Diego’s chest, and started to walk off. Diego rolled and got the tranq rifle cocked and aimed so fast he should win a prize for it.

“Stop.”

The leopard looked back at him with green cat’s eyes. It snarled, then it shifted.

Limbs elongated, and the wildcat rose to the cross between cat and human that had saved Diego up in the construction site. The body continued to change and finally settled into the leggy, lush female who’d faced him right before he’d arrested her. Cassidy was as naked as she’d been then, her blond hair as unkempt and as lusciously beautiful.

Cassidy folded her arms, which lifted her br**sts under the bright moonlight. The areolas were large and dusky, and Diego imagined how they’d feel filling his mouth, velvet against his tongue.

In the interrogation room, when Cassidy had wrapped her arms around him, it had been all Diego could do to remain immobile. The feel of her body bare through the coverall had made him want to rip open that ugly blue jail suit and have her right there, damn who might be watching. Now there was nothing between him and her but the darkness.

“Where are your bodyguards?” Diego managed to ask.

Cassidy gestured. “Out there.”

Diego scanned the moonlit woods but could see nothing, hear no one. If the trackers were nearby, they were masters of stealth. But they would be, wouldn’t they? Shifters were animals with human intelligence. Incredibly dangerous—hence the Collars.

“Eric called them his trackers,” Diego said. “What does he mean by that?”

Cassidy shrugged, which did nice things to her body. “All clan leaders have Shifters that help guard the clan, keep tabs on any problems that might come up, alert the clan leader to danger. Eric’s Shiftertown leader now, so his trackers help him guard all Shiftertown.”

Diego lowered the rifle but held on to it. “He’s not supposed to have people working for him.”

Cassidy gave him a half smile, which made her even more dangerously beautiful. “Eric doesn’t care, Diego Escobar.”

“So Eric sent the trackers to keep you safe? He shouldn’t have let you come at all.”

“I know. Don’t blame my brother. He knew why I needed to come, and now I’ve finished my ritual. I can be very persuasive.”

Diego just bet she could be. She’d look at a man with those green eyes, dark now in the moonlight, and he’d do anything for her. “Last time you came here, someone started hunting you. What makes you think it’s safe here now?”

“I don’t.” Cassidy gave him a stubborn stare worthy of her brother. “But I refused to let him keep me from honoring Donovan. If I do that, the hunters will have won, won’t they?”

Her words made Diego pause. He’d felt the same after Jobe died, when everyone had told him to take leave, transfer out of vice, and other such asinine suggestions. No. If Diego stopped hunting drug dealers—who caused a hell of a lot more damage to the world than people wanted to believe—the bad guys would have their victory. He couldn’t let them stop him.