Nocturnal Challenge: Nocturnal Lives, #4

By Amanda S. Green

The one thing Lt. Mackenzie Santos has always been able to count on was the law. But that was before she started turning furry. Now she finds herself in the middle of a conspiracy to keep the truth from the public-at-large. She knows they aren't ready to learn that monsters are real and might live next door.

 

If that isn't enough, trouble is brewing among the shapeshifters. A power struggle brews, one that has already come close to costing some of Mac's closest friends their lives. Now Mac is in the middle of what could quickly turn into a civil war, one that would be disastrous for all of them.

 

What she wouldn't give to have a simple murder case to investigate and a life that didn't include people who wanted nothing more than to add her death to the many they were already responsible for.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amanda Green
• Release date: Jun 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9781949901153

Amanda S. Green

I’m older than twenty and younger than death and that’s all you’ll get from me about my age. After all, it’s not polite to ask a woman her age. I’m a mother, a daughter and was a wife. I’ve spent most of my life in the South and love to travel. The only problem with that is my dog always thinks I’ve abandoned him and it takes weeks to reassure the poor thing. Then there’s the cat who resents the fact I came back before he could figure out a way to kill the dog and hide the body. My house is haunted – it really is. I swear it. What else explains the table that plays music and the light that comes on by itself? – but it’s mine and I love it. Okay, I’m a little strange. But that makes life interesting.

Book preview

1

Perfectly manicured fingernails tapped an impatient rhythm against the steering wheel. Blood red polish caught the sun as an almost feral snarl escaped her lips. The primitive part of her nature she usually kept under tight control fought for release. The hunt called to her, denied for much too long. She longed to spill the blood of her enemies. Unfortunately, it was blood she couldn’t shed, not yet at any rate.

She missed the days when she had been free to hunt whenever and wherever she wanted, stalking her victims without fear of detection. Technology was now the enemy, a most deadly one, that made those days a distant memory. Too many cameras and too many cellphones meant too great a chance of discovery and capture. That, at least, was one thing her prey had been right about.

Prey.

What a wonderful word, one with so many good memories. Unfortunately, those memories brought frustration as well. Too much time had passed since she had been on a real hunt. Taking down the occasional deer or rabbit didn’t count. They simply did not present the challenge a human did. Another smile touched her lips as she remembered the last normal she had hunted. His fear had been sweet, almost narcotic, as she’d tracked him through the trees. Like so many of his kind, he had believed against all odds that he could survive. So he had run, searching for shelter or a weapon, never once paying attention to his surroundings or trying to hide his trail. She had followed, the occasional growl spurring him on. When he finally realized his mistake, it had been too late. He had been the mouse to her cat and, once she’d finished playing with him, he had made a tasty meal.

That had been long ago. Yet she could still taste his flesh and smell his fear. She held the memory close, even as she hoped to replace it with the fear and the taste of another. It couldn’t happen soon enough. But she had to be careful. If she were found out, it would be a death sentence. One thing she had learned over the last year was that she had enemies who would gladly see her dead, enemies like Mackenzie Santos.

Santos! Damn her to hell and back again.

Mackenzie Santos had been a thorn in her side from the moment she first heard the name. Not that she should have expected any different. She had grown up watching her father, and her grandfather before him, do battle against Santos’ grandparents. She had heard all the tales of how their families had fought for generations. If it hadn’t been for them, their kind would not be living in the shadows, fearful not only of discovery by the normals but of war with the lycans as well. No, they would have assumed their rightful place as the dominant species and ruled as they were meant to do.

Instead, her grandfather and father – and now she herself – had continued the slow and cautious work of their ancestors, doing whatever was necessary to remove any obstacles to their ultimate goal. The fact that it also made her life easier by removing potential enemies was an added benefit. Unfortunately, Santos and her warnings about how dangerous their current path was had started others of their kind thinking. Worse, they had started asking questions, questions she had no desire to answer. If she wasn’t careful, Santos would stir up enough trouble to derail all her careful plans – or worse.

Cassandra Wilkinson gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles shone white. Her cheetah, already pushing at the frayed edges of her self-control, screamed in anger. It wouldn’t take much for her to shift and that would only compound the problems she already faced. Not only would it ruin the rental car she currently sat in but it would lead to questions best left unasked. Worse, it would prove the validity of all Santos had said. Still, if she managed to shift without being discovered, it could solve one of her biggest problems.

A predatory smile touched her lips at the thought of her cheetah catching Santos unaware and dealing with her in the most permanent of fashions. Regrettably, the likelihood of that happening was about as slim as that of her getting out of the car, stripping and walking down the street toward the Dallas Justice Center, clad in only her designer boots. Besides, from what she knew of Santos, the woman rarely, if ever, let her guard down. Now that she had come into her own as a shapeshifter, it was even less likely someone would be able to take her unaware. Then there was the ugly truth that Santos’s jaguar was bigger and stronger than her own cheetah. Her cat was built for speed and distance. Santos’ jaguar was built for strength. That meant the only thing Cassandra would have going for her in a fight between the two of them was experience and she was not about to risk her life and all she and her family had worked so hard for on just that.

So a fair fight was out and that suited her perfectly. She never had liked going into a situation without first stacking the deck in her favor. Normally, that wasn’t a problem. Fate, however, had dealt her a potentially losing hand where Santos was concerned and it had already cost her too much.

Damn Santos and damn that fool Yazhari even more. If he hadn’t let his ego get in the way of everything, she wouldn’t be sitting in a rental car less than a block from Dallas’ Justice Center. For years, the man had been her right hand and enforcer. She had come to count on him to clean up any problem, large or small, that might present itself. But no more. He had failed her on so many levels that she still found it hard to believe. Not only had he chosen the wrong people to carry out his orders, but he had also then failed to deal with them quickly enough and permanently enough to prevent their activities from being discovered.

That carelessness had brought their activities not only to the attention of Santos but to the local pride leader as well. Cassandra didn’t know which was worse. Michael King always said the right thing whenever they spoke and always presented a respectful and obedient face in their dealings. Not that it fooled her. For the last several years, she had suspected that he no longer supported the Council. That belief had only deepened once Santos joined the pride. Not only had King quickly named the woman as his second, the pride’s enforcer, but he had joined her in arguing before the Council that it was time for their kind to be more careful in order to avoid discovery. Together they talked about scientific advances that made it more likely than ever before that their existence would be discovered by the normals. Cassandra knew they wanted to find a way for their kind to go public without causing a panic but she was not ready for that. Not yet at least, and not until she was confident in her absolute power over pures and lycans alike.

So she had sent Yazhari to Dallas to deal with his people and to take whatever steps were necessary to prevent the local shapeshifters from realizing her connection to what had happened. She had spent too much time, effort and money in carefully planned attacks across the country, all aimed at solidifying her hold not only on the Council but over all their people. This was not the time for anything to go wrong, much less to point back at her. Trusting Yazhari to deal with it as he had dealt with so many other problems for her, she had left it in his hands.

And now she had an even bigger problem than before.

The fool had ignored her instructions to get in and out without the local pride knowing. Instead, he had tried to kill Santos. Had he been successful, Cassandra would have seen him well rewarded, assuming he had done nothing to implicate her in the process. But he had failed on all accounts and, worse in many ways, he had managed to get himself killed in the process. Now it was up to her to deal with the fallout and to find a way to make sure Santos and King, as well as their supporters, did not look too closely in her direction as she did.

She just hoped it wasn’t already too late.

She leaned forward and once again focused on the front entrance of the Justice Center as the doors slid opened. Satisfaction coursed through her as she caught sight of her prey. Mackenzie Santos stepped into the late morning sun. She moved a few steps away from the entrance and paused, looking around. As she did, two others, a man and a woman, joined her. For a moment, Cassandra studied them before turning her attention back to Santos. The other two didn’t matter, not when it looked as if Yazhari might not have completely failed her after all.

Her cheetah stretched and sent the image of their shifted self taking Santos down. The message was clear. The prey was injured and unable to fight back as she normally would. What were they waiting for?

For a moment, Cassandra wished the world was as simple as her cheetah thought. If it were, she would simply shift and take down Santos and the two with her. But she couldn’t. Not here and not now. But her other self was right about one thing. Santos was not the threat now she could have been. Not with her right arm was secured in an immobilizer, strapped to her side and across her abdomen. Even from a distance, Cassandra noted her limp as well the swelling and bruising to her face. Injured as she was, the battlefield now favored Cassandra. She didn’t need to shift to win this battle.

Good. Very good.

Without a second thought, Cassandra checked for traffic and then stepped out of the car. A moment later, she moved quickly down the sidewalk toward the three. Senses alive and alert, she fought back her smile. The closer she got to her target, the more convinced she became that her plan would work. So far, neither Santos nor the coyote shifter with her gave any indication they sensed her approach. Luck might finally be in her favor.

Unfortunately, it didn’t hold. She knew the moment Santos realized she was there. The younger woman stopped and pivoted in her direction. At the same time, her left hand went to the small of her back where Cassandra assumed she had a weapon. A split second later, Santos’ companions reacted. The man, the coyote shifter, turned, his right hand disappearing under his suit jacket. The woman, a normal, stepped forward, placing herself between Cassandra and Santos. Interesting. Could the woman know who, perhaps even what, Cassandra was? That was something she would have to think about later. First things first.

Hello, Mackenzie. I think it’s time we talk, Cassandra said, her voice silky smooth but the weight of command undeniable.

2

"H ello, Mackenzie . I think it’s time we talk."

Time stopped and the world narrowed to the slim blonde with the icy blue eyes standing just a few feet away. After more than ten years on the job with the Dallas Police Department, most of them as a murder cop, Lt. Mackenzie Santos had seen just about everything. She knew the depravity man could do to his fellow man. She knew the lengths a mother would go to protect her child. After the last six months, she even knew monsters really did exist outside the bad B-movies from Hollywood. But all that paled at the sight of her worst nightmare come to life.

Instinct kicked in. She shifted position slightly so her injured shoulder was away from the woman. The fingers of her left hand closed around the grip of the Sig Sauer nestled at the small of her back. If she could have easily freed her right arm from the immobilizer securing it against her side and across her abdomen, she would have. Instead, she cast a quick look right and then left. There were too many people around, civilian and cop alike. Too many people who could get hurt and too many who could overhear something that could turn the world on its ear and result in a panic that would make the Salem witch hunt look tame by comparison. But she wasn’t alone. She had to remember that. Standing on either side of her were two people who would lay down their lives to protect her and her secret, whether she wanted them to or not.

Cassandra. It wasn’t much but it was better than the string of curses she wanted to let loose.

This had to be a bad dream. There was no other explanation for why Cassandra Wilkinson would be standing just a few feet away. If the blonde had business in town, Mac should have known about it. Her position as the local pride leader’s enforcer meant she would have been told. The fact the Speaker of the Council, and the woman Mac believed responsible for so much of the trouble her pride had suffered recently, now stood before her was most definitely not a good thing.

Worse, Mac had no doubt that when Cassandra said it was time for them to talk, she’d meant talk alone, far away from prying eyes and curious ears. More than that, it would be far from anyone who might be able to help should Cassandra decide she didn’t like what Mac had to say. So not only no but hell no, not that she could come right out and tell Cassandra that. Knowing what she did about the Speaker and suspecting even more, Mac wasn’t about to go anywhere with the woman and especially not while injured.

One thing was certain, she had to be very careful about what she said and did. They stood on the sidewalk outside the Dallas Justice Center where, only a few minutes earlier, Mac had finished giving her report to the Chief of Detectives and the District Attorney about the kidnapping and assault on her partner as well as an assistant district attorney and several others. Needless to say, it had been a partial report. She could no more tell the Chief of Ds and the DA the entire truth about what had happened than she could fly. If she did, they might think she had finally cracked under the pressure of the job. Worse, they might believe her and lock her up as a danger to society before going on hunt down all those like her.

Not that she would blame them if they did. Six months ago, she would have done the same thing. But that was before she discovered she turned furry on nights of the full moon and pretty much any other time she wanted. Now she had to make sure that secret didn’t come out, not only for her sake but for the sake of all those like her, at least not until the time was right. She would not be responsible for a modern version of the Boston witch hunts.

Unfortunately, she no longer believed Cassandra shared that concern. Even though they had met only a few times, Mac had never completely trusted the woman who was charged with enforcing shapeshifter law and making sure their existence was not discovered by the normals. Now, after the events of the last several weeks, she wasn’t sure Cassandra had ever really cared if their secret came out. Because of that, she had to be cautious about what she said and did next.

Most of all, she prayed she and her companions made it away from there alive so they could warn the others.

LT? Detective Nate Norwood, her temporary partner and a coyote shifter, asked in concern.

Instead of answering, Mac lifted her head slightly. As she did, she eased her hold on her jaguar. The jungle cat, so much a part of her now, pushed against her control, fighting for release. A growl sounded deep in Mac’s throat as the jaguar let her displeasure be known. She did not like Cassandra intruding on their territory. More than that, she did not appreciate the woman trying to tell them—them! – what to do. Well, that made two of them but there was little Mac could do about it, at least for the moment.

Caution won out over pride, training over ego. Mac sniffed the air and then relaxed slightly. All the smells she had come to associate with downtown were there: the cars, the exhaust, so many people pressing against one another as they made their way to their destinations. Hot dogs and condiments from the vendor at the corner. Coffee, rich and enticing, as someone walked past with a tall to-go cup. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But beneath all that were the scents she sought, the scents of shapeshifters. One was Cassandra. There could be no mistaking the dry grass scent Mac had come to associate with the woman. It reminded her of how a hayfield smelled several days after it had been cut. The second scent was the deeper, musky scent of Norwood. So far, so good.

Another sniff and Mac allowed herself to relax a little as she scented no other shapeshifters in the area. Cassandra had either come on her own or whomever she had brought with her was far enough away that Mac’s heightened senses couldn’t pick them up. That was fine by her. That meant they were too far away to interfere if a hasty retreat was called for. Maybe this little encounter would end peacefully after all.

At least she hoped so.

But she still needed to figure out how to respond to the woman who had led the Council for the last decade, without giving enough offense that Cassandra could legitimately take action against her. Damn but dealing with the politics of her new people was even more complicated, and certainly more fatal if she made a misstep, than dealing with the politics of the police department and justice system.

Come. Walk with me, Mackenzie, Cassandra said firmly.

The power behind those simple words washed over Mac and, for one brief moment, she felt the urge to step away from Jael and Norwood. Her jaguar screamed in anger, her claws digging into Mac’s consciousness. They would not submit. Not to this woman. She could not force them to comply

It’s all right, Mac assured the jaguar, praying she was correct even as the jaguar’s anger pushed further into her.

Then, as suddenly as it had come, the anger disappeared, replaced by a sense of disbelief. The Speaker had tried to roll her, to force her to comply by the power of an alpha. It was something Mac had seen – and felt – her grandmother, as well as her own pride leader, do. Alphas had the ability to roll those who were weaker, leaving them no choice but to do as they were bid. Those times, Mac had responded instantly, not only because they were alphas but because she respected them enough not to even consider disobeying. But this was different.

Very different.

Even as Sergeant Jael Lindsay, her mentor and former training officer, reached out to stop her, Mac gave a quick shake of her head. Her jaguar pushed once more against her control, furious that the Speaker had tried to intimidate them – THEM – into obeying. As the jaguar’s claws once again dug into her consciousness, Mac knew she wasn’t just furious, she was contemptuous. The Speaker had not earned their obedience, much less their respect, and she certainly did not deserve it. This was their territory and Cassandra was there uninvited. More important than that, she was the enemy.

Drawing strength from her jaguar, Mac glanced at Norwood to see if he had reacted to Cassandra’s order. Relief filled her to see him still standing at her side, his hand near the gun under his jacket. Then, seeing the concern reflected in the younger man’s eyes, she gave him a quick wink. She might be battered and bruised, but she was still in control. He didn’t have to worry.

Yet.

Hoping she wasn’t about to make a bad situation worse, Mac took a single step forward. As she did, she fixed a slight smile on her lips. If anyone should happen to look their way, she didn’t want them thinking there was a problem. The last thing she needed was some well-intentioned person interfering. She had a feeling things would go south in a hurry if that were to happen.

Cassandra. She fought the urge to grin as the blonde’s blue eyes flashed. It is always a pleasure to see you. A lie but hopefully Cassandra would think it one of those little social lies almost everyone tells at some point in their lives. Are you here to see Michael?

Of course, she wasn’t. The answer was written on Cassandra’s face from the way she clinched her teeth to the angry flush that rose on her cheeks. Then the anger disappeared almost as quickly as it had come. Mac had to give it to her. The woman knew how to roll with the punches. Hopefully, that meant she also realized how precarious their position happened to be. Cops and civilians alike moved past them as they came and went from the Justice Center. Surely the blonde wouldn’t risk doing or saying something that might reveal their secret.

As I said, Mackenzie, it is time the two of us talked. Join me for a coffee.

Once again her power rolled over Mac. Prepared for it this time, Mac didn’t falter. Nor did she miss the surprise and something else, uncertainty perhaps, that crossed Cassandra’s expression. Not that Mac had time to think about it or about what her failure to comply with the Speaker’s order might mean. Instead, she needed to find out why the blonde had shown up without warning. But she’d be damned if she went anywhere with the woman, much less alone.

I’m sorry, Cassandra, but I’m on my way to a crime scene. A lie but what other choice did she have? All she could do was pray she played the next bit right. I’m sure if you contact Michael, he’d be glad to arrange a time and place where we can meet without fear of interruption.

At least that latter was technically true. As Speaker, Cassandra had the right to talk to any member of a pack, pride or pard that had sworn allegiance to the Council. Tradition, however, held that the Council, or its representative, would first approach the local alpha and ask permission to meet with whomever they wished to speak with. Mac hoped Cassandra would assume she was falling back on tradition because she was so new to her shifter abilities and still learning the ins and outs of shifter society. If she didn’t, they were all in trouble.

God, don’t let her push this any further.

Mackenzie. There could be no mistaking the warning, or the anger, in the blonde’s voice. We will speak now.

I mean no disrespect, Cassandra, and I will be glad to speak with you. All I ask is that you talk with Michael first. I’m sure he will approve of our meeting. Besides, as I told you, I am on my way to a crime scene.

Mac waited, wondering how the Speaker would react. She sensed Cassandra’s cheetah pushing against the blonde’s control. At the same time, Mac’s jaguar coiled beneath the surface, ready to spring and force a shift should Cassandra attack. Pushing the jungle cat down, Mac once again reached to the small of her back and the Sig Sauer nestled there. As she did, she gave a slight nod. She trusted Norwood to look after himself. She would make sure nothing happened to Jael

Very well, Mackenzie. But this isn’t over. We will speak and soon. The blonde’s words were clipped, her tone leaving no doubt about how she felt. When her eyes locked with Mac’s, Mac refused to look away. She would not show fear or submission to this woman or to her cheetah. Even so, she prayed she was making the right decision.

I look forward to it.

Mac inclined her head. As she did, Cassandra turned and strode off, the high heels of her designer boots clicking loudly against the sidewalk. Anger radiated off of her as she pushed her way past several women coming down the street. A few moments later, a dark sedan’s security system disengaged with a beep. With Norwood and Jael flanking her, Mac watched as Cassandra climbed in behind the steering wheel. The engine roared to life and the sedan pulled into traffic with a screech of tires that could have earned her a traffic ticket.

Mac looked on as the sedan turned at the corner and disappear from sight. Only then did she release her grip on her gun. Her heart rate slowed and her breathing returned to normal. But her mind raced. One thing was certain. They couldn’t stand there, waiting to see what happened next. She needed to let King know Cassandra was in town and she needed to warn those at the safe house. Like it or not, the battle – maybe even the war – had just come to them.

LT? Jael spoke softly, her concern obvious.

Get in the SUV, both of you. Mac glanced up and then down the street to make sure Cassandra had not circled back. Nate, I want you to drive around for a few minutes. Let’s make sure we haven’t picked up a tail. Once you’re confident we’re in the clear, I want you to drop Jael and me back at the office.

No way, LT, he said firmly. I’m taking you straight to the safe house. He spoke softly enough that he wouldn’t be overheard but there could be no mistaking his conviction.

Nate, think for a moment. The SUV was unattended while we were inside making our report. That means Cassandra, or one of her people, could have tagged it. There’s no way we’re going anywhere near the safe house until we know it’s clean. That’s your job. Come back with either this one after it’s been swept or with a new vehicle. Then I will gladly let you take me to the others. Until then, we’re going to play this smart and not run the risk of leading that bitch back to our people.

For a moment it looked like he would argue. Then he nodded. You don’t let her out of your sight, Sarge, he told Jael.

Don’t worry. I won’t leave her side. With that, Mac’s former training officer motioned for them all to climb into the SUV. I take it we’re going to see the captain.

If at all possible. He needs to know what happened. Mac slid into the front passenger seat and leaned back, carefully shifting positions until she found one that didn’t hurt her injured shoulder.

Are you sure that’s the best course of action? Jael asked as she slid into the backseat.

Mac started to answer and then stopped. She recognized Jael’s tone of voice. It was the same tone the woman had used when they were partnered together a lifetime ago. Mac had quickly learned it meant she needed to think about what she had said or had done. In almost every situation, Jael had been right. Could she be so now?

Drive. I need to think for a minute, she said as Norwood started the engine.

Trusting her companions to make sure they weren’t being followed, Mac leaned her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes. She had no doubt that she needed to let King know what had just happened. But was it wise to go back to the office to do so? There was always the chance they would be overheard there. Damn, life had been so much less complicated before she started turning furry.

Unfortunately, this was something she needed to tell him face-to-face. Jael was right, though. Doing it at the office would not work. There were too many distractions there and too great a risk they might be overheard. With a sigh, she reached for her cellphone.

King, her pride leader and commanding officer said a few moments later.

It’s Santos, sir. Might as well play it safe in case he was not alone. Something’s come up on one of my current cases that I need to brief you on. Hopefully, he would understand what she was not saying.

Lieutenant, I assume you’ve finished briefing the Chief of Ds and are on your way home now. I’d hate to find out you’re working when you are supposed to be on medical leave.

It wasn’t quite a question, but it was enough to let her know that he wasn’t alone. Thank goodness she hadn’t said what was on her mind.

"That’s correct,