Hunting the Rogue: Shifter Hunters Ltd., #1

By Tori Knightwood

When a shifter hunter goes after a rogue in Kenya, sparks and claws will fly.

 

Successful in a male-dominated field, Ryenne doesn't take shit from anyone—especially not from shifters. When a rich Kenyan businessman hires Ryenne to protect him and his village from a leopard shifter, she soon finds herself the target of the most cunning rogue she's ever faced. Worse still, her new client forces her into competition with a sexy French shifter hunter who harbors a dangerous secret. Despite their rivalry, the French hottie is breaking down the protective walls Ryenne built around her heart after she lost her brother and father.

 

Will she uncover the identity of the rogue, or lose the bounty to the competition? More importantly, will she bring the rogue to justice...or become his next victim?

 

The Shifter Hunters Ltd. trilogy is filled with action, adventure, and steamy love scenes. 

 

(Previously published as Kenya Calling.)

 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Knightwood Books
• Release date: Jan 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9781393325420

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

In the Shifter Hunters Ltd. trilogy, Ryenne Cavanagh faces off against rogue shifters while trying to prove herself in a male-dominated field. As it becomes clear her recent cases are connected to a mysterious figure, she must fight her attraction to a competitor with a secret. In the end, she’ll only win love if she can overcome her inner demons.

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ONE

The music pounded up Ryenne’s legs and pulsed uncomfortably in her stomach.

Gavin, her best friend, grinned and showed off his perfect, white teeth. Come on, Ryenne, loosen up.

She took another sip of her beer and turned a bored face toward him. This place isn’t for relaxing, she shouted over the music. It’s torture.

Gavin smirked and stared out over the writhing crowd on the dance floor, the bodies made grotesque under the flashing neon lights.

Next to him at the bar, several women stared at Gavin. One bit her lip, smearing her gloss.

Ryenne rolled her eyes. Women always stared at Gavin. He looked like he’d walked off the pages of a magazine. But they could stare or throw themselves or prance half naked all they wanted. His eyes were on a slim guy on the fringe of the dance floor.

She watched the guy until a couple on the far side of the dance floor caught her eye. The young woman looked enthralled by the tall, dark man at her side. He gave off a dangerous vibe and Ryenne’s inner radar, honed by years of experience hunting predators, immediately pinged.

What’s wrong? Gavin asked, perfect eyebrows drawing down over his blue eyes.

Instead of answering, she pushed off the bar and started to follow the path of the couple on the other side of the club.

It’s your night off, Gavin said.

Rogue shifters don’t take a night off.

The couple went out an emergency exit door, the man throwing a glance over his shoulder.

Ryenne’s gaze narrowed on the door as it closed, faintly lit by the emergency exit sign above it, and she strode across the club, heedless of everything and everyone in her path.

Hey, a girl squealed when Ryenne knocked into her elbow.

Ryenne kept walking, throwing her long, blond hair over her shoulder.

Watch where you’re going, a guy shouted into her face. He looked like he survived on steroids.

Without breaking her stride, Ryenne glared at him and elbowed his solar plexus. He went down with an oof of expelled air, and she reached the emergency exit door without further incident.

Outside, the alley was dark and quiet. Cars whooshed past on Houston Street, the occasional honk or squealing brakes or shouts and laughs the only sounds. One measly light over the club’s door kept the alley from total blackness.

The dark-haired man had the woman pinned against the stone wall of the club, to the right of the door, his arm against her throat. He towered over her.

Step away from her, Ryenne said.

He glanced at Ryenne and back to the woman against the wall. She had red hair cut in a severe chin-length bob and brown eyes shining with the light over the club’s rear door. She stared at him as if in a trance.

For your own safety, Ryenne said, step away from the woman.

My own safety? he said. Mind your own business and run along, Barbie.

Ryenne pursed her lips. She was used to being judged by her looks, but Barbie was just unfair. There was nothing fake about her. Tempting. Asshole. She turned to the woman and tilted her head. I warned him.

Claws erupted from the woman’s fingers and the man jumped back in alarm.

Don’t do it, Tess, Ryenne said. If you kill him, I kill you. If you turn him into a shifter, I’ll have to kill you both.

Tess reached her hand toward the man, index finger extended, one corner of her mouth quirked up. She cocked her head to the side and licked her lips. Her finger touched his cheek and he gasped and ran away.

Laughing, Tess faced Ryenne, pouted, and licked the claw that had slowly scraped down the guy’s cheek. Why must you always ruin my fun?

Because murder is illegal. Ryenne slipped a stun gun into her right hand from its hiding place inside the sleeve of her leather jacket. It was one of her mother’s stunners, smaller than what the police used, easily hidden.

She stepped forward, legs apart, ready for a fight.

Tess kicked out, lightning fast, connecting with Ryenne’s right wrist and sending the stun gun flying. I told Lord you weren’t so tough.

Ryenne ignored the pain in her wrist and Tess’s cryptic comment. Instead, she shot forward, touching Tess’s shoulder with a second, smaller stun gun she’d hidden in her left hand. The victorious expression on Tess’s pixie-like face turned to shock. She crumpled to the ground, strands of red hair falling across her pale face.

Ryenne shoved the second stun gun back into a holster along her tight jeans, partially hidden by her leather jacket, and pushed her long blond hair out of her face.

Standing over the shifter’s body, Ryenne pondered whether or not to kill her as promised. She sighed and kicked Tess’s ankle with her boot. The shifter didn’t rouse. But red drops on Tess’s ankle, above the strap of her black spike heels, caught Ryenne’s eye.

What the hell? I didn’t kick her that hard.

Talking to yourself again? Gavin asked from the rear door.

Ryenne didn’t answer, instead crouching over Tess’s ankle. It was a tattoo. A fang dripping blood.

A strange feeling came over Ryenne. Have you seen a tattoo like this before?

Gavin crouched next to her and peered at the tat. I don’t know. Maybe. It seems familiar. Why?

She sighed and stood. I don’t know either.

What are you going to do about her?

Ryenne glanced at the unconscious woman and pulled cuffs from her back pocket. She cuffed Tess’s hands behind her back and around a drainpipe. Call Scotty at the precinct and have him pick her up. The detective owes us a favor, but she’s a police problem now anyway.

Gavin nodded and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Thanks, Gav. Enjoy the rest of your night. I’m going home for a relaxing bath. The hormones swirling around this club are intense. She shuddered.

TWO

The next morning, Ryenne strode into the Brody Cavanagh Shifter Hunters Ltd. office in plenty of time for their morning phone appointment with a potential new client. Her steps had a little more ferocity than usual, because she’d tossed and turned last night, second-guessing her decision to let Tess live. But, unlike Tess, Ryenne wasn’t a killer.

Rogues had become more and more of a problem in the past decade. Most shifters lived as humans and only hunted small animals in permitted forests. They often kept their true nature to themselves, not wanting to risk fear-driven attacks by humans.

Rogues, on the other hand, liked to sow fear among humans.

Hopefully, Scotty had arrived quickly last night and taken Tess off Gavin’s hands. Although those hands were perfectly capable, Gavin rarely left the office to join her in the field and had gone soft.

Their office on the fourth floor of an old building on Manhattan’s West Side was unlocked, but she didn’t see or hear Gavin. At least, not at first. Their small wood-paneled reception area was empty, so she stepped toward the pocket door that separated the reception area from their shared work space.

A soft intake of breath.

A moan.

You’ve got to be kidding me, Ryenne muttered under her breath and marched into their shared office. The sight that greeted her was expected enough from the sounds she’d heard that she didn’t even bother to turn away.

Gavin’s glistening chest filled her eyesight, his own eyes closed, lips apart, his knuckles white as they gripped the back of the couch. Their couch.

Behind him was the slim guy from the club last night, his hands on Gavin’s waist.

They hadn’t noticed her yet but she was no voyeur. Hey, Gav.

His head snapped up and their gazes met.

Don’t we have a meeting scheduled? She quirked an eyebrow.

The guy, who had wavy black hair, sparkling brown eyes, and a dark complexion, disengaged from Gavin and scrambled for his clothing. Gavin smirked at her. Sorry, Ry, we passed out last night before we could...you know.

The guy stepped out from behind the couch, now wearing jeans and clasping his shirt and shoes to his chest. The contrast with Gavin was shocking. Where Gavin was muscular and golden, his friend was thin, almost scrawny.

Ryenne, meet Marco.

A pleasure, she said in a monotone. She’d met too many of Gavin’s one-night stands.

Marco headed for the front door, glancing at Gavin over his shoulder as if he couldn’t get enough.

I’ll call you, Gavin said. As usual.

Ryenne shook her head and dropped into the chair across from the couch, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee. He came out from behind the couch, not at all self-conscious about his nudity. With that body, he didn’t need to be.

Don’t you dare sit down.

He smirked again but swiped his jeans from the floor and wriggled into them. He pushed a hand through his sandy blond hair. Sorry about that. I lost track of time.

She rolled her eyes. This wasn’t the first time she’d walked in on him. It probably wouldn’t be the last. He was a great guy with a big heart who always saw the good in others. He balanced her usual bristly and suspicious nature. Okay, fill me in.

Well, I met Marco at the club last night but we stayed really late and got really drunk...

She let her leg drop off her knee with a loud bang on the floor. Gavin, you idiot. I meant about this new client.

He had the grace to blush. Then he stood up and went to the kitchenette to pour himself a glass of water. When he returned, he had regained his normal composure. Right. Steven Muteti. A Kenyan businessman whose family made their money in coffee. He thinks his life is being threatened by a rogue shifter.

She nodded and checked her watch. It was another of her mother’s special tools. Made of platinum, it looked like a simple woman’s watch, all in one piece. But the wristband was hollow and hid items useful in Ryenne’s trade. Almost go time.

Gavin finished dressing and set up the laptop on the coffee table. Minutes later, it pinged, alerting them to an incoming call. Gavin answered it and Ryenne stayed out of view of the webcam, but well within view of the screen.

A dark-skinned man with high cheekbones filled the screen. Good day, Mr. Brody.

Gavin and Ryenne shared a look. How did this man know Gavin’s last name? People always assumed Gavin was Brody Cavanagh, the name of the company, and they called him Mr. Cavanagh, which was Ryenne’s last name. They kept Ryenne out of a client’s sight as much as possible. Her Barbie doll looks weren’t reassuring in their line of work, and she needed to keep her anonymity so she could get close to their targets.

Call me Gavin, Gavin said, voice shaky with surprise. Why don’t you tell me more about your situation.

I need to hire you to protect me from a shifter who wants to kill me, he stated simply in accented English.

Do you know who it is?

No.

Do you know why they want to kill you?

Silence.

Mr. Muteti?

I’m rich. That is enough. But it could be a business rival. A political rival. There are many possibilities. Come to Kenya. Protect me and find out who wants to kill me.

Ryenne sat up straighter. She’d never been hired to work outside the States before. She’d assumed he wanted them to protect him during a visit to New York.

Gavin picked up on her unease. You’re not coming here?

No. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. Will coming here be a problem? Of course, I will pay all your travel expenses and you will stay at my compound outside Nakuru.

Gavin looked at her and she nodded.

No. There’s no problem.

Good.

I’ll send you a contract later today and my associate’s flight details as soon as we’ve booked her travel, Gavin said. This was the tricky part. This time, the client would need to know Gavin wasn’t the one doing the work. They could still lose him.

Ah, her travel. So you’ll be sending Miss Cavanagh?

Gavin and Ryenne shared a look and she pushed next to him on the