Jaguar Pride (13 page)

When Melissa arrived at the Carringtons' resort, she explained to the manager at the lodge how Mr. Carrington's boss, Martin Sullivan, had sent her to pick up their things and ship them home due to a sudden family illness. Of course, Martin wasn't Mr. Carrington's boss, but that was the only way they could get the Carringtons' personal belongings. Thankfully, Martin had already called the management and the police to ensure things would go smoothly. She loved how Huntley hadn't tried to talk her out of switching places and just smiled knowingly at her.

The cubs would probably sleep until she got back anyway. Though it was getting to be about feeding time again.

The manager was grateful because Martin hadn't asked for a refund for the rest of the family's time at the resort. Keys in hand, she headed for the correct bungalow and thought she heard rustling inside. At first, she believed someone had broken into the place. Her second notion was more hopeful. The couple, or at least one of them, had made it safely back to the bungalow.

She made lots of noise as she approached the front door—better to let thieves know she was coming and give them a chance to run off, or if it was one or both of the parents, to give them a heads-up that she was paying them a visit.

It got really quiet inside, then she heard a window open on the backside of the bungalow. She told herself if it was thieves, she'd let it go. She wasn't here to apprehend anyone. On the other hand, her agency training prepared her for any eventuality. Letting the bad guys go wasn't part of her psyche
or
her agent teaching. Passports were one of the biggest income makers for thieves, and who knew what else they might have grabbed at the Carringtons' bungalow. The couple had already had enough of a time of it, and she wanted to thwart the burglars for that reason alone.

She raced around the side of the bungalow through the thick foliage and saw two men wearing field packs as they dove into the vegetation. She wished she had on her jaguar coat. Then this would have been a really easy task, though catching thieves in a resort in her jaguar form wasn't the thing to do. At times like these, she wished the rest of the world knew that jaguar shifters existed and accepted them for what they were.

She ran to catch up to the first man trailing behind and leaped on his back, throwing him off balance. He fell sideways and hit the ground. With a swift kick to the head, as effective as if she'd been a jaguar and sliced at him with her wickedly strong forelegs, she knocked him out. Then she dashed after the other man who was still running through the vegetation, breathing heavily under the weight of the stuff he'd stolen—maybe from several bungalows, not just the one.

She was nearly upon him when he turned and saw she wasn't his comrade in crime, but only a woman. He had the nerve to cast an evil smile at her, as if he thought he could take care of her quickly and be on his way. She had to admit that she didn't like it when he went for a knife in the sheath at his belt.

Not waiting for him to withdraw it, she grabbed his shoulders and brought her knee up hard into his groin.

His body was bent over as he clutched his crotch, groaning. She slammed her knee into his nose and heard a crunch, breaking it. Last time he'd ever think any girl was an easy target.

He was holding his nose when she did the sidekick to the head that meant lights out.

She rolled him over, yanked off the bag he was carrying, unzipped it, and found maybe a dozen or so passports, credit cards, cash, a couple of iPods, and four cell phones. Nice haul. She quickly searched through them and got the Carringtons' credit cards and passports and other items that she could smell belonged to them, then checked the other bag. More stuff—iPods, watches, a couple of gold bracelets. None of that belonged to the Carringtons. Everything else, she left in the bags to turn over to the manager.

She hauled the bags to the Carringtons' bungalow first, knocked—as if anyone would be home, but it was a case of habit—then unlocked it and went inside. The place had been left undisturbed, and the thieves seemed to have tried to hide the fact they had been there. She left all the Carringtons' things on the kitchen table, locked up, and headed over to the lodge to turn over the bags.

She hated to do anything but pack the Carringtons' stuff up and leave, but she had to let the manager know about the bad guys and turn over the rest of the stolen merchandise. As she entered the lodge, he glanced up from reading a paper. “
Sí
?”

She plunked the two bags on the counter and explained that two men had tried to steal all these things. She was an agent with a special U.S. unit and had managed to knock the two men out. The manager stared at her like she was crazy.

She started pulling out the passports in one of the bags. “Some of your guests'?”

He started to compare the names with his guest list and then got on the phone immediately to notify the police.

“I have to go. I've got to pack up the Carringtons' things and leave.” And Melissa had to get back to poor Huntley. She imagined the cubs were ready to feed, and trying to take care of two at once was cumbersome. As soon as they realized the bottles meant milk, neither wanted to wait for the other to get her fair share.

“No, no, you must stay and talk with police.”

Great. They could take forever to get there. “I'll be at the Carringtons' bungalow packing their things then.” She called Huntley as she headed back to their place. He didn't answer the phone until the third try, so she assumed he was having a time of it.

“What's taking you so long?” he asked, sounding totally frazzled.

She heard babies crying in the background.

“
No
,” she said, entering the bungalow and shutting the door. Every time the cubs turned into babies, she feared the worse for the mother. “I…had to take down some thieves. They were in the Carringtons' bungalow. Now I've got to wait on the police before I can leave.”

“You're okay, not injured, right?” He sounded like he needed help—poor guy. But he also sounded really concerned that she might have been hurt.

She was glad she was here and not there. “Yeah. I'm fine. The men I took down aren't.” She sighed. “But I'm going to be here for a while longer. Can you manage all right?”

“Do I have a choice?”

She smiled as she began to pack up the Carringtons' things. “Sorry,” she said again.

“Next time, I want the easy job,” he said.

She chuckled. Then she heard a cub snarl and sighed with relief. “I found diapers and more bottles, baby clothes, and other baby supplies. We'll be all set if they shift again.”

“Only if you're here with me.”

She laughed. “I don't know. They might have to put this on your résumé at work. If anyone needs a rescue that includes cub- or babysitting, you could be…”

She paused as she looked through one of the drawers filled with socks and boxers.

“What's wrong?” Huntley asked, his voice dark.

“There's something stuffed in a sock. Wait a minute.” She set the phone down on the dresser and dug into the sock, having a hard time pulling whatever it was out without using both hands. She grabbed her phone. “It's a badge.”

“Badge,” Huntley parroted.

“Yeah.” She stared at it in disbelief as she flipped it open and read the name and branch. “Says he's one of us.”

“We don't have a Carrington in our organization that I know of.”

“Not with our branch. He's an Avenger.” They were like jaguar-shifter assassins and took out the trash, meaning they were sent in after the bad guys and they never took prisoners. Highly trained Special Ops. “Calling it in to Martin. They lead double lives, so this might be an alias.”

“With a couple of kids? And a wife?”

“No telling. I'll call it in.” She was about to hang up on Huntley when she heard a car pull up and peeked out the window. “Ah, hell,” she said as she saw the police car park outside the bungalow and the same two police officers who had grilled her and Huntley before. “The police—our buddies—just arrived. I'll be home soon.”

“You take care of yourself, Melissa,” Huntley warned, sounding like he'd fix her good if she got herself into a real mess that left him dealing with the jaguar-shifter babies on his own for the duration.

“Yeah, talk later. Good luck.” She quickly called Martin, “Can't talk but had to call. Carrington is with the Avengers branch. Got to talk to the police. Call back as soon as I can.”

As soon as she hung up, she realized she hadn't had time to tell him why she had to speak with the police. She sighed, then pocketed her cell phone, tucked Carrington's badge into her pocket, and greeted the police officers outside. They looked horrified to see her, probably having thought she was some sweet little American woman who had run into thieves, not the agent who had helped Huntley take out five poachers. She smiled brightly, trying to lessen their fear that they'd be in trouble with their boss again because they had to speak with her
again.

She explained what had happened as she led them to where the two men were beginning to regain consciousness.

The police quickly took the thieves in hand. Then she asked if she could go.

“These two were some of the poachers you were after?” Alvarez asked, frowning at her.

“Not that I know of. They were just stealing from a bungalow and I caught them at it. The bags with the evidence in them are with the manager of the resort.”

The police officers exchanged looks and appeared to want to ask her more questions, but then maybe thinking better of it—after their boss had chewed them out the last time—they let her go. She hurried to finish packing the Carringtons' bags, then loaded them in her rental car.

As soon as she got on the road, the rain started again, and she hoped she wouldn't have trouble getting back to Huntley. Most of all, she hoped they wouldn't have any trouble getting the kids back home.

When she reached their cabana, she called Martin, but he was still having a talk with the head of the Avengers branch. She'd have to check in with him later, but she let him know she'd gotten all the stuff from the Carringtons' bungalow and explained why the police had wanted to talk to her. When she entered their bungalow, Huntley was mopping up his T-shirt in the kitchen. She noted small tears in the blue cotton fabric and no sign of the cubs.

“Asleep,” he said, anticipating her question.

“Good. Did they get
anything
to eat?” she asked as he went outside in the rain and helped her with the rest of the Carringtons' bags.

He cast her an amused look.

“You appear to be wearing quite a bit of
their
milk,” she said, in case he didn't get her point as she eyed his shirt again. It was dripping wet from the rain now too, but she could still see the splotches of milk. And the little tears in his shirt? Jaguar-cub claw tears. Guaranteed.

He shut the door to the cabana, dropped the bags on the kitchen floor, and locked the door. She saw the glint in his eye, and before she could prepare herself, he pounced. All she managed to do was drop the bags in her hands onto the floor. In one giant step, he grabbed her up. She squealed, never expecting anything like this, and laughed. She loved it.

He tossed her over his shoulder and stalked back to the bedroom.

“What do you think you're doing?”

“I've had enough babysitting duty. It's time for some grown-up action.”

***

An hour later, Melissa and Huntley were half dozing, feeling blissfully sated, and she was again wondering if it could work out for them in the long run when Martin called Melissa. She figured he was calling her instead of Huntley on this mission because she was nearly always the one calling him. “Did you learn anything about Carrington?” she asked, climbing out of bed and snagging a T-shirt, then turning the phone on speaker.

Huntley threw on a pair of boxers, joined her in the kitchen, and took the phone from her while she looked in the fridge to fix them dinner.

“Yeah, he's definitely one of the Avengers. No one knew he was at the park. He was on vacation with his family, as far as we know. Here are pictures of his family in jaguar form so you can identify the parents when you reach them and not let the wrong jaguars out of their cages if Jackson has any more locked up.”

She released the fridge door and joined Huntley to look at the pictures. “Is the Carrington name an alias?” she asked.

“No, that's truly his family,” Martin said.

“Okay. We're all set for tomorrow? Kids get picked up, and then Huntley and I hit the beaches as jaguars?”

“Yeah, not that I like the plan. I'm still worried some other poachers will attempt to pick the two of you up. The word has gone out to all the small villages and towns about your sightings to let anyone who has done this before know to get in touch with the buyer. But he insists on someone with experience and references. No new guys who could end up killing the two of you by accident.”

“Nothing doing,” Melissa said. “If the wrong guys come for us, we'll take care of them. We know what Jackson looks like and what he smells like.” Not that she liked the idea of getting shot, even if just by a tranquilizer dart. The wrong amount of tranquilizer could kill either her or Huntley.

“If I could, I'd have one of my men insert GPS implants under your skin. But until they come up with the technology, that's out. GPS collars would be highly suspect. All we can do is watch your backs and help you take out anyone who might try to grab you and is not affiliated with Jackson. And call in the particulars about the boat and the direction it takes when they carry you off. Hopefully, and that's a big hope, Jackson will be the only one who will make the effort to grab you and transport you to where he's got the other cats. Then you can free them and take the bastard and his cohorts down.”