The smooth tones belonged to Iona, Eric’s mate, a half human, half Shifter. She and Kenzie had met last year when Eric had paid a brief visit to Bowman to discuss Shifter business. The two women, though one a Feline and the other Lupine, had bonded. They had a common fate—being mated to pain-in-the-ass alpha males—or so they said.
“Kenzie’s smart,” said Iona, a woman who wasn’t lacking in brains herself. “She’s resourceful. She’ll figure out how to get back to you.”
“And I’ll figure out how to get to her,” Bowman said. “We’ll meet halfway.”
“What about Ryan?” Iona asked. “How is he?”
Over her words, Bowman heard the soft gurgle of a cub Iona and Eric had brought in a few months ago, a boy they’d called Callum. Callum was already tough, Eric had boasted when he’d last spoken with Bowman, a blue-eyed leopard like the rest of the family. Shifters with human blood were usually born human, not changing into their animal form until age three or so. Callum, though born in human form, had shifted into a leopard within a month. Eric was very proud.
“Ryan’s fine,” Bowman snapped. Never let another Shifter know your offspring might be weak, was Shifter reflex. In this case, Bowman wasn’t lying. Ryan was being stouthearted, refusing to crumple.
“Make sure you don’t keep him in the dark,” Iona said. “I know you’ll want to protect him, but let him reassure you. He’s stronger than you know.”
“Yeah,” Bowman said. “Thanks.”
“Hang in there, Bowman,” Iona said. “Trust Ryan.”
“I will,” Bowman said, his heart tight.
Iona gave the phone back to Eric. “I’ll give you Reid if you think you’ll need him,” Eric said. “And Graham. They’re two of my best. Might take a bit of doing.” Eric meant he’d have to contact the man who flew his Shifters where they needed to go, but didn’t want to say so on the phone. Eric chuckled. “Graham definitely.”
Graham hated to fly. Eric liked to send him places in the cargo plane because of this, part of Eric’s battle of wills with Graham, the head Lupine in his Shiftertown.
“Thanks,” Bowman said. “Keep in touch.”
He put down the phone and turned to find Cristian two feet away. “This Eric will send help?” Cristian asked.
Bowman nodded, his neck stiff. “Some. An expert on Faerie. I’ve met the guy. He’s weird, but he knows a lot.”
“Good. Let them get on with what they do. And we will get on with what we do. Which is find out everything we can, by interrogation when necessary.”
Bowman scowled at him. “Turner’s mine.”
Cristian studied him for a moment, then gave him a nod. “Yours first. Then I want a go at him. If he is still alive after you are finished.”
Bowman said nothing, only pushed past Cristian—who moved before Bowman could touch him—and out of the house. For once, he and the crazy Romanian Lupine agreed on one thing: Get Kenzie back, by any means necessary.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The mists rolled in and rolled back again. When they cleared, Turner was standing a few yards away.
Kenzie was on her feet, shifting as she rose. She landed in her wolf form and charged, intent on killing her enemy. Turner watched her come without worry and held up his hand.
Kenzie hit him full force, and they went down in a tangle. Her Collar went off at the same time as the Taser in his hand.
A cross between a yelp and a scream left Kenzie’s throat. Pain flashed around her neck and down her spine, then through every nerve in her body. Her fur crackled, her eyes burned, and a high-pitched eeeeeeeeeeee tore through her ears.
She managed to roll away and landed on her belly a few feet away, panting hard, her Collar shocking her. Turner climbed to his feet, still holding the Taser.
Brigid hadn’t moved. Not because she didn’t want to, Kenzie realized, but because she couldn’t. She must be under the influence of the spell she’d told Kenzie about. Brigid struggled to take a step, her booted foot inching in the dirt and then stopping. Her dark eyes burned with frustration and hatred.
“You know you can’t touch me,” Turner said to Brigid, sounding far too calm. “I learned a trick from a half Fae,” he told Kenzie. “I have taken some of her blood”—he nodded at Brigid—“which I used in a binding spell. I have some of yours now, and some of your fur.” He held up his hand, showing Kenzie a tuft of wolf hair between his fingertips. “Thank you. Though Tasers coupled with Collars are excellent at stopping Shifters.”
Kenzie snarled. She longed to leap up and tear his face off, but the double shock had robbed her of strength. Her Collar continued to snap curls of electricity through her—it knew her aggression and wanted to stop her. She’d arrogantly told Bowman she’d be among the last to have her Collar removed, taking the pain so others could be freed first. Way to go, Kenzie.
Turner waved a hand at her. “Shift back. I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”
“Don’t,” Brigid said. Her voice was strained, teeth clenched.