Falke’s Renegade pn-3 Read online




  Falke’s Renegade

  ( Puma Nights - 3 )

  Anna Leigh Keaton

  Madison Layle

  Veterinarian Heidi Falke can tell that something isn't as it seems when she rescues an injured jaguar. Black jaguars aren't native to the area, and as a Falke, Heidi knows that some men can walk in the shape of a beast...literally. She won't let this seductive shapeshifter leave without getting some answers.

  Javier Montero is on a mission: find the shapeshifter who killed his family and get the justice he deserves. This unexpected detour won't put him off for long, and what he has with Heidi can't be anything more than sex--even if it does feel different from anything he's ever known.

  With Javier, Heidi discovers passion she never thought possible. She wants their connection to lead to a future together. Javier made a vow never to mate again after his loss...but if he wants to keep Heidi in his life, he'll have to decide how far he'll go for vengeance.

  Falke’s Renegade

  Puma Nights - 3

  By

  Anna Leigh Keaton and Madison Layle

  Prologue

  “Son of the bitch.”

  Lev Durchenko glanced into the rearview mirror to see the black Jag less than fifty yards behind his own much slower rental sedan. No mistake; the driver meant him harm.

  How had he gotten so close without Lev knowing?

  Damn him for believing he’d lost Montero weeks ago. He should’ve known better. The bastard was more like a bloodhound than a cat.

  “Fucking bastard.” Lev pressed the accelerator, hoping to get into the nearest town. Montero would never attack him in public. From there Lev could blend into the crowd...make an escape...somehow.

  Live to fight another day, and on his own terms.

  He should have killed the shifter years ago, should never have left that house without finishing them all.

  Taking curves too fast, he worked the car into the hills somewhere in the godforsaken wilderness of Washington State. And then it happened. The engine sputtered as he accelerated up a straight slope.

  “Nyet. Nyet! Not now.” His heartbeat surged, and a cold sweat popped out on his brow. He would have to make a run for it. Playing cat and mouse was much easier in cities. More places to hide.

  He aimed the car toward a ditch, opened the door and jumped before it came to a complete stop.

  Running into the cover of the forest, he tore at his clothes, desperately removing them in order to change into his feline form before Montero could catch him. Only as a snow leopard did he have a chance of losing the jaguar.

  His shirt removed, his slacks unbuttoned, he shoved at the material and transformed just as he heard a crashing in the woods behind him.

  Lev ran. Leaping over fallen logs and branches, ducking under others, practically slithering through spaces too small for the oversized black cat on his tail, he searched for a place to hide. Hiding, out-waiting Montero was his only hope. The jaguar was too big to fight fairly in a head-to-head confrontation.

  Damn it. Because of too many flights, too many airport security gates, he had no weapon. He’d been in a hurry to reach Seattle and hadn’t taken the time to search one out. Impatience and foolishness might have just signed his death warrant.

  A gunshot echoed through the forest. Close. Too close. Startled, he ran harder. Was Montero shooting at him? Unlikely, but not impossible. Maybe Montero had grown weary of their game after all this time and decided to end it the easiest way he could, even if that meant firing at an unarmed cat.

  Not Montero’s style, but Lev decided to not put anything past the jaguar that he wouldn’t do himself, and if the tables were turned...

  Or perhaps there were other hunters in the woods... Not a very comforting thought. But were they shooting at him? At Montero? Or something altogether different?

  No other shots rang out, but Lev wasn’t about to pause and investigate the matter. Neither option boded well for him in his current form.

  His lungs burned as he pushed himself to an even faster pace.

  The land gave way in front of him, and he tumbled down a craggy slope, splashing into deep, icy water at the base. The river the highway had been following for some time, he realized. He popped his head above the surface and searched the top of the slope for a sign of Montero.

  No sign of yellow eyes or a black face peering out of the dense pines. No dark figure searching for a safer way down to the river than the one Lev took.

  Had he lost Montero?

  He dared hope as he let the current carry him farther and farther away. Finally, he paddled his big paws toward the opposite side of the river and fought his way onto the gravelly bank. He shook water from his fur and, again, searched the distant bank for any sign of his pursuer.

  Could his enemy have been shot? The irony was not lost on him, but he dare not stand around on the riverbank too long.

  Sprinting in the woods, he headed in the direction of town. Luck was with him when he happened upon a small house. Still in his leopard body and prepared to run if spotted, he slunk to the back door of the cottage.

  No dogs barked. No lights were on inside that he could see through the window in the door. He hoped a man lived there so he could find some clothing. He dare not return to the rental car for his luggage. If Montero had simply lost his trail—though he did not see how, since the jaguar was a master hunter—he would return to the vehicles and wait.

  Montero was nothing if not patient, Lev had learned over the past two years. Waiting, stalking, hunting him. But always too sneaky for Lev to get the advantage. When he’d laid traps for Montero before, the jaguar had always seemed to sense the danger and would back off before Lev could gain the upper hand. What he would give to kill the bastard the way he had the other one. To gut him like a pig. All he needed was one little thing—that one element of surprise or moment of weakness—to gain an advantage and take the bastard out.

  Lev transformed into his human body, a sneer curling his lip as he thought of the pleasure sticking a knife in Montero’s gut would bring him. He knocked on the windowpane. When no one came to the door, he hefted a piece of wood from a pile on the porch and was just about to break the glass when he decided to try the knob.

  Country folk were all morons, he thought as he entered the house through the unlocked door.

  Enough light came through the surrounding trees to let him see clearly. He stopped at the refrigerator in the kitchen and lifted the lid on a casserole dish, then grabbed the package of lunchmeat off the top shelf and tore into it as he walked through the house. He hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before, and he was hungry, especially after that run.

  The bedroom produced a tiny closet crammed full of both men and women’s clothes. He settled on a flannel shirt—to blend in—and a pair of worn jeans. Once dressed, he searched for a gun safe but found none. Finally, he exited the front door and walked down the long driveway. Too bad the homeowner hadn’t left a set of keys or vehicle in the drive. Even a beat-up pickup would be better than trudging all the way to town. The rutted dirt road would eventually bring Lev back to the highway.

  After less than a half hour, he reached pavement. No telling how far he was from where he’d ditched his car. And no idea where Montero might be. That made him nervous. He walked closer to the tree line than the asphalt just in case.

  When a car approached—with an engine’s roar that sounded nothing like the purr of Montero’s high-powered Jag—he scrambled to the shoulder, turned and raised his thumb. The station wagon whizzed past without slowing. A blue Land Rover pulling an ATV on a trailer sped by the other way.

  Glancing down at himself, he wondered if anyone would stop. Lev enjoyed
the finer things in life.

  He made a comfortable living fixing other people’s problems. If only he’d been in his Armani... But his suit was in shreds in the forest, thanks to Montero.

  He pressed his lips together and kept walking.

  Enough was enough. Once he reached Seattle, armed himself and secured a new identity, the hunt would reverse. Lev was tired of always looking over his shoulder. He had underestimated the jaguar’s need for vengeance.

  His heel hurt where the too-large shoe rubbed.

  It was time Montero was stopped.

  Chapter One

  “Isn’t that a pretty boy? Yes you are. You know you are.”

  Heidi Falke laughed as she stepped into the doorway of the room where her sister-in-law was currently bathing what had to be the ugliest little mutt they’d ever had in the clinic. “How’s he doin’?”

  “He’s a pretty boy,” Beth said in baby talk without looking up. “Yes, he is.”

  The scrappy dog snarled and growled under its breath, but at least it had quit snapping at them. Two mornings ago, they’d arrived at Heidi’s clinic and found the mutt tied to the front door. A note stapled to the leash revealed he’d been found in the woods.

  Heidi, Leavenworth’s only veterinarian, loved all animals but couldn’t blame whoever had delivered the scrawny critter—a cross between a terrier, maybe some poodle and possibly muskrat-to her door. She probably wouldn’t have kept the thing if she’d been the one to find it either.

  They’d tentatively named him Fugly at Beth’s husbands’ suggestion. It had taken one whole day before Fugly finally let Beth get close to him. The dog didn’t care much for Heidi, and that was okay with her. Watching as her sister-in-law pampered the little rat, Heidi shook her head. She still wasn’t sure what Beth saw in the yappy, ill-tempered mongrel. Bath time was obviously not Fugly’s favorite pastime.

  “What are the boys going to say when you bring that thing home?”

  Beth glanced up from the soggy dog. “What can they say?” She giggled, and, true to his nature, Fugly growled.

  Heidi rolled her eyes and grinned. “Been married a year and they still bow down to your whims. I swear.”

  Beth’s smile transformed into something secretive, something private Heidi had seen pass between her brothers and sister-in-law. Whatever their secrets, the three of them were deliriously happy together.

  Heidi clenched her teeth and kept her own smile in place, even though that deep, niggling jealousy tried to worm its way to the surface. “I’m going to...” She pushed away from the doorjamb.

  Beth’s expression changed to concern. “You okay?”

  “Of course.” Heidi couldn’t let her family know what went on in her mind and heart when she saw the happiness in her mated brothers and their wives. Would she ever have a turn? Not here. That was for sure. But how could she ever leave her family to find it?

  “Doctor Falke?”

  Relieved, she turned her attention to her receptionist. “Yes?”

  “There’s a call for you. Ritchie Handleman. He says it’s an emergency.”

  Heidi made a face and headed toward her office. “Thanks, Mrs. Blake.” Ritchie Handleman had been her first boyfriend in high school. He worked at the Bavarian Inn now, but she hadn’t talked to him in ages and didn’t know he had a pet that might warrant an emergency call to the town vet. She sat at her desk, lifted the receiver on the phone and poked the flashing button.

  “Hey, Ritchie. What’s up?” There was a lot of static on the line, and she missed his first few words.

  “You’re breaking up. What did you say?”

  “Heidi?” Still a lot of static, but at least she could hear him. “I’m up near Beaver Pond. Dave and I are bear hunting.”

  She flipped through a stack of bills, only half listening. “And?”

  “I shot something I thought was a bear. I mean it was all black. But it’s a cougar.”

  She stopped reading. “A black cougar?” Her mind raced. A black cougar? They didn’t exist. “Is it dead?”

  “No. Do you want to me to finish it off?”

  “No! God, no. Is it conscious?”

  “Well, it’s breathing. It tried to run after I shot it, but not far. Looked like I got it in a leg. It’s bleeding pretty badly.”

  “Tell me exactly where you are.”

  He did one better and gave her GPS coordinates.

  “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” Beaver Pond was just barely off her fathers’ property, a popular bear baiting spot. She could get there easily by ATV from the edge of Falke land. “Keep a safe distance from it, but keep it in your sights.”

  “Gotcha. Will do. Hurry. He doesn’t look good.”

  “On my way.”

  She dropped the phone into the cradle and ran out of her office and down the hall, calling for Beth.

  “Yeah?”

  Heidi spun around as Beth came out of an examining room. “Put that rat in a cage. We got something big to go see.” Excitement coursed through her, and she couldn’t contain it. “Come on, hurry. And grab your tranq gun.” She rushed into another room, unlocked a drawer with the key she pulled from her pocket and grabbed a variety of bandages.

  Beth met her in the hallway, tranq gun in one hand and several red-and-white tipped darts in the other. “What is it?”

  “Whatever it is, it doesn’t belong in our woods,” Heidi said with a giddy laugh as she led the way through the lobby. “Mrs. Blake, please cancel my appointments for the rest of the day and reschedule what you can. We’ll be back as soon as possible.”

  She didn’t wait for a response but jogged outside to her Land Rover. Having planned to go four-wheeling after work, she’d lucked out—her ATV was already on the trailer attached to the SUV.

  She sure hoped Ritchie wasn’t wrong about the cat. A black cougar... “This might be your big break, Beth.”

  “Tell me!”

  Heidi laughed and her tires threw up some gravel as she squealed onto the highway to her fathers’ property. “Ritchie thinks he’s shot a black cougar.”

  Beth’s mouth drop open. “That’s...impossible.”

  “I know. But still, it’s worth checking out. He obviously shot something, and if it’s not a bear...”

  They reached Ritchie and his brother Dave in less than the fifteen minutes she’d promised. Heidi killed the ATV’s engine, and she and Beth jumped off at a dead run up the short hill.

  “Glad you made it,” Ritchie said. “It’s right over there.”

  “Oh...my...God...” Beth stopped beside Heidi, who stared at the massive cat sprawled on the pine needle–covered ground not ten feet away.

  Definitely not a bear, although it was as big as some bears she’d seen in Washington. Its side rose and fell with fast, shallow breaths, but it looked unconscious. Though Heidi wasn’t willing to get too close until she was certain.

  “That’s not a cougar,” she said, her breathing a little hard.

  “It’s not?” Ritchie asked.

  Heidi shook her head, but didn’t respond further. The jaguar seemed to awaken at the sounds of their arrival. It began to struggle weakly, growl and hiss. Relieved to see it still had some fight left, she glanced at Beth and nodded.

  Beth loaded a tranquilizer dart into the gun and took aim. “That cat does not belong in the Wenatchee Forest.”

  Heidi believed her. Beth was the resident expert, having just finished her Ph.D. dissertation on big cat genetics. Beyond typical family pets, Heidi knew everything there was to know about cougars, bears, wolves and even coyotes, but beyond simple recognition, anything that lived outside of the Pacific Northwest was beyond her specialty or concern.

  She glanced at Ritchie. “You really mistook that for a bear?”

  “Yeah, well, it’s got black fur. And it grunted like one.” He looked a little sheepish, his cheeks turning pink. “You gotta admit it’s bigger than any cat I’ve ever seen ’round here.”

  “Go ahead, Beth. Tranq it.
We’ve got to get it back to the clinic ASAP.”

  Beth shot the dart into the cat’s shoulder. The cat flinched and growled, letting them know it was definitely still alive and pissed off. They waited a few minutes for the drug to take effect. After checking the cat’s heartbeat, Heidi went to work bandaging the wound on its right hindquarter to stem the blood and discovered the bullet had passed through the leg.

  Beth was there with her, helping her reposition him when needed. This cat was bigger than her brothers. A good fifty pounds, at least. And her brothers in catamount form were larger than the average cougar.

  “He might need surgery if the bullet hit the bone.”

  “I’m really sorry,” Ritchie said, still standing next to his younger brother. “I hope he’ll be okay. I didn’t know who else to call.”

  “You did right,” Heidi assured him. “He’s probably broken free of some private owner, or maybe even a zoo. He’s in too good of shape to have lived out here long.”

  “Okay, boys. You’re going to have to help us get this big guy on the ATV,” Beth said. “I’ll bring it up the hill.”

  Heidi nodded and sat back on her heels. This cat was gorgeous. She ran her hands over his silky coat, softer than a cougar’s. Black, but not solid, its spots plainly seen in the sunlight. No, not spots, rosettes they were called. Spots inside spots. Almost the same markings as African leopards.

  “Damn,” she muttered. She’d have to call around to see if they could figure out from where this big guy escaped.

  Beth pulled the ATV up next to the cat, and it took all four of them to drape the unconscious feline over the back of it. He was huge, heavy, well over two hundred pounds.

  “We’ll put him on the ATV trailer. Ritchie, I want you to take the ATV to my dad’s house and leave it in the backyard when we’re done.”

  Ritchie nodded.

  “I’m going to take it slow, but I need you two—” she pointed to Beth and Ritchie, “—to make sure he doesn’t start sliding off.”