Lion's Betrayal (Shifter Suspense Book 2) Read online

  A week into the job, Chloe was beginning to think she was on a wild goose chase. Even if she had found something, she had no way to send notes or photos back to her old boss. Chloe still had her phone, but she hadn’t found so much of a bar of signal anywhere on the island. If there was any Wi-Fi hanging around, she couldn’t access it—and her data didn’t work out here, either. The whole island was like some giant dead spot.

  Definitely sadistic, Chloe decided. She hadn’t been without internet for this long since she was fifteen. This has got to be against some sort of human rights charter.

  “Anyway, I…” Thandie trailed off, her eyes widening. Her hand flew to her pocket. “Oh, sh—sugar! Are you getting this?”

  Chloe frowned. “Getting what?”

  She was starting to think Thandie had some sort of magic sixth sense. Sure enough, a second later, doors started slamming throughout the dormitory block.

  “What’s so urgent?” she wondered out loud.

  Before Thandie could reply, there was a rap at the open bedroom door, and Julian Rouse poked his head around.

  Julian was… Chloe had still not figured out what Julian was. Some sort of management, maybe? He seemed to have his finger in all the pies around the island, and from what Chloe could see, resented it immensely.

  He was tall and pale-skinned, with black hair and piercing jade-green eyes. Not Chloe’s type at all, but definitely the type of more than a few of the other women who worked on the island. Including Thandie, whose eyes brightened at the sight of him.

  Julian didn’t seem to notice. “Come on,” he snapped. “Gerald’s going to be here in thirty minutes, with a party of twelve.”

  “Thirty minutes!” Chloe jumped off her bed. “He couldn’t give us any more notice?”

  Julian fixed his dark eyes on her. “Are you going to complain, or prepare the rooms?” he said in his chilly voice. He looked past her to Thandie. “Thandie, Floss needs you in the kitchen to go over the plans for tonight’s menu.”

  Thandie got up, blushing hot pink under her light brown skin. Chloe groaned and rubbed her face.

  Thirty minutes to prep the guest wing? How was she meant to get any investigating done when she didn’t even have enough time to do her cover job?

  ***

  Chloe raced from the staff quarters to the main building, making sure to keep to the sunken paths behind the garden’s decorative hedges. Julian had pointed these out to her on her first day. Anyone who kept to the paths was invisible to people looking out from the main residence. Julian had made it very clear that it was a requirement of employment that the staff not be seen littering the sculpted landscape of the island.

  She was panting by the time she arrived in the guest wing. Nora, the head of housekeeping, grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around. “You’re on the third floor. Go.”

  The next half-hour was a flurry of dusting, fresh sheets and complimentary toiletries. The guest rooms were kept in good condition even when they were empty, but there were still so many finishing touches to be done that Chloe’s head was spinning by the time she was finished.

  Nora grabbed her again as she was heading out. “Where are you going?”

  “Back to the staff building?” she suggested, puffing.

  Nora gave her a pitying look. “Sorry, love. Julian just called. The boss brought back a surprise extra. He’ll be staying in the entertainers’ wing, with the rest of them.”

  “Can’t he go here? There are still a few empty rooms, we can set him up in fifteen or sixteen—”

  “Time wasted asking questions is time you’re not spending getting the job done,” Nora reminded her, and dropped a key into Chloe’s hand. “Chop chop.”

  Chloe wrenched her trolley around and headed for the service elevator. The entertainers’ wing was slightly separated from the main building, tucked away on the other side of the hill the resort sprawled over.

  Damn it. If I wasn’t in such a hurry…

  This was her first time inside the entertainers’ residence. She’d met a few of the “entertainers”, most of whom were grim-faced gym bro types. What form of entertainment they provided, Chloe had no idea—unless they were secretly the dog-handlers for the fighting ring she’d come here to find.

  She sighed. No chance to poke around now. She’d just have to find an excuse to come back.

  Even with the clock ticking, she took mental notes on what she could see. The outside of the building was plainer than the primary residence, and the rooms were nowhere near as fancy as the guest suites she’d just prepped.

  Whoever this extra guy is, I guess the boss doesn’t like him very much, she thought.

  She stretched her shoulders out and got to work, aware the clock was ticking. The surprise guest’s room might be less incredibly opulent than the main guest quarters—polished tile in the bathroom instead of marble, no gold leaf on the walls—but that made no difference to Chloe’s job. Fresh sheets, fresh towels, fresh smelly toiletries.

  The door hissed and clunked locked behind her. Chloe was tired, sweaty, and knew she’d be fired if a guest caught even a glimpse of her at any time, let alone in that state.

  But Gerald Harper was back on the island. And he’d brought guests. Guests who might, for example, have come to see animals fight in his illegal fighting ring.

  It was time for her investigation to start in earnest.

  CHAPTER 3

  MATHIS

  Mathis leaned into the breeze as the boat made the final approach to the pier. The island was a few hours’ journey from shore, a long, thin strip of land that barely seemed to reach out of the turquoise waters.

  From the boat, Mathis could see a white sand beach leading up to rolling lawns spotted with lush palms. A large building made of some sort of pale yellow stone jutted up from the pleasant landscape, incongruous and unmissable. Mathis narrowed his eyes against the sea-spray, racking his memory.

  Have I ever heard anyone talk about a shifter who lives out this way? One wealthy enough to have a place like this?

  “Impressive, isn’t it?”

  Mathis was about the reply in the negative, but checked himself. So far as Gerald Harper and his friends knew, Mathis was just Matt Dell, not the heir to a wealthy New York pride. Mathis wanted to keep the charade up for as long as possible.

  “It sure is something,” he said instead, trying to look suitably impressed. The man who’d spoken was one of Harper’s other guests, a middle-aged man with grey streaks in his dark blond hair. As he moved closer, Mathis got a whiff of lion from him. His own lion tensed inside him, on edge at the presence of a male lion from another pride.

  Something must have shown in his eyes, because the other man stepped back, holding up his hands. “Hey, easy there. Save it for the ring, Simba.”

  Mathis smiled self-deprecatingly. “Sorry, sir. This is all a bit new to me.”

  “Haven’t spent much time around your own kind, huh?”

  “I guess not,” Mathis lied reluctantly. Not unless you count my pride, my friends, half the people I grew up around…

  But that was Mathis Delacourt. If this guy wanted to believe that Matt Dell was a loner who didn’t know much about shifters, who was Mathis to argue?

  “Well, you’re in for a treat tonight, then,” the man said, grinning. “So are we all! I don’t think old Ger’s managed to get a lion in rotation all the time I’ve known him.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. Never had the chance to fight other shifters before.”

  The man clapped him on the shoulder and Mathis bit back his lion’s roar of injured pride. “Well, don’t let the side down, huh? Us lions have got to stick together.”

  Mathis watched the other lion shifter wander back down the deck, hands in his pockets. It had taken the entire conversation, but he’d finally placed him. Grayson Masters, the uncle of the current alpha of the Masters pride.

  Mathis had never met Grayson or his alpha before in person, but Grayson had done some business wi
th his twin sister Francine a few years back. Mathis remembered him from the promotional photos.

  And he’d heard of the pride. It was a tragic story. The previous alpha and his mate had been killed in a terrible accident when the current alpha—Leon, Mathis thought his name was—had been still in school. Grayson had taken the boy under his wing.

  He must be in his twenties by now, Mathis thought. No sign of him here, though. And Grayson didn’t recognize me.

  Mathis frowned. What would he have done if Grayson had recognized him? His façade had worked in the underground bouts he’d been fighting in so far, but he was playing with fire coming here.

  He shook his head. It wouldn’t be a problem. If anyone did confront him, he could play it off as a joke. He was still young enough to pass the whole thing off as some sort of youthful acting-out, after all.

  He couldn’t tell them the truth. That there was a deep, ravenous emptiness inside him, a hunger for something he couldn’t name. Falling into the deep focus that fighting required was the only thing that seemed to silence it. And even that only lasted until the fight was over.

  Not when he was fighting humans, at least. If he was up against another shifter…

  Mathis was still lost in his own thoughts when the boat nudged up against the wharf. A young man in a white uniform secured the boat and then helped the guests step out onto dry land.

  Gerald Harper caught Mathis’ attention while the luggage was being unloaded. He waved to the tall, black-haired man who had appeared at his side.

  “Mathis, this is my assistant, Julian. He’ll show you to your quarters, and let you know how things run here.”

  Mathis looked Julian up and down, his nostrils flaring. Julian was a shifter too, he was sure of it—just as sure as he was that the guy who’d handed him off the boat was some sort of wading bird. But he couldn’t get a fix on what Julian’s animal was.

  He shook Julian’s hand. There was something there, a sense of power, and lithe grace—and that was as far as Mathis got.

  “Pleased to meet you,” he said, trying not to let his frustration show on his face.

  “Likewise,” Julian replied in a cool voice. “If you’ll follow me?”

  Mathis did so, his rucksack slung over one shoulder. Julian led him up the white gravel path to the resort proper.

  Closer to, Mathis could see that the yellow stone buildings were made of some sort of sandstone—a risky choice, for a building this exposed to the elements. Pits and crevices were already beginning to form where the sea and wind had attacked it.

  “Looks like Harper’s gone to a lot of expense for a house that’ll be half eroded away in ten years’ time,” he mentioned, running his ringer along a crack in the wall as they passed by the main building.

  Julian shrugged, his green eyes flat, and said nothing. Mathis snorted. Guess he doesn’t want to badmouth his employer in front of the new guy.

  He dutifully tailed Julian up the shallow hill the resort butted up against. Over the ridge—if you could call it that—was another building, just as scarred and pitted as the first. Mathis’ home for the next few months, he guessed.

  He blinked in surprise as Julian led him inside. After months of concrete and lino floors, the wood and tile of the fighters’ quarters was bafflingly opulent. His own rooms—rooms, not a cot in a dorm—were on the fourth floor.

  “This suite will be yours during your stay here,” Julian declared, waving one hand in a lazy arc that encompassed the room and doors leading off to a bathroom and walk-in closet. “The other fighters are on the lower levels, but you’re the only one on this floor. We don’t have a full house at the moment. Perhaps you’ll enjoy the privacy; I know not all of Harper’s contracts are here to make friends.” His mouth snapped shut on that last bit, as though he had to stop himself from saying more.

  Mathis heaved his bag onto the king-sized bed. “Other fighters, huh? Anything you can tell me about them?”

  He only half-listened to Julian’s reply. There was an unusual scent in the air, something warm and inviting. Not the floral air freshener, not the clean linen smell of the sheets—something else. Something enticing.

  “…have all been with us for some time. A few wolf shifters, and one coyote. Mr. Harper’s last star fighter was an orangutan shifter, but he is no longer… no longer with the establishment.”

  Julian’s cool green eyes followed Mathis around the room. Mathis knew he was prowling. He couldn’t help it. Where was the scent coming from? He had to know.

  Julian coughed softly. “Dinner is served at seven. As you’ll still be settling in, I’ll send one of the staff around with your meal. Wash, change, and be ready for the first bout at nine. I’ll return then to show you to the ring.”

  Mathis raised his eyebrows. “I don’t get to see the ring before we start?” He waved it off before Julian could open his mouth to reply. “Nah, don’t worry about it. One ring’s much like another, right?”

  “Right,” Julian echoed, a hint of irony in his voice.

  Mathis’ lion grumbled inside him. He was chasing his tail—whatever or whoever had left the scent was long gone. Instead, he tried to remember what Julian had just said about his competitors. “Wolf shifters, you said? What, a pack of them, or something?”

  “No, several independents. Mr. Harper isn’t interested in melee fights, only one-on-one. At least, as long as I’ve known him.”

  “You’ve worked with him for a while?”

  Julian smiled thinly and without humor. “You could say that. Though, I’m not the only one. Some of the shifters have been here for years.”

  “Mr. Harper must pay well.” Mathis’ attention was drifting again. That smell…

  Out of the corner of his eye, Mathis saw Julian give that thin smile again. “We’ve all got something keeping us on the island,” he said quietly. “I’ll see you at nine.”

  CHAPTER 4

  CHLOE

  Chloe tugged on the hem of her dress. She’d raced back to her room for a lightning-fast shower, replacing her housekeeping outfit with a plain black dress. Her straight black hair was swept back off her face, which she’d made up in tasteful nude shades.

  In short, she looked like any of the half-a-dozen waitresses employed at the resort. Now she just had to…

  To do what? Lurk around dark corners, hoping Nora doesn’t notice you and send you packing back to the mainland for stepping out of line?

  Chloe shook herself. Okay, so she didn’t have a plan, but she could make it up as she went along. She was good at that. Look like you belong here, and most people won’t even question it.

  And if they did, she could always baffle them into letting her run away. Her friends called it her “Jedi mind trick”, which made it sound a lot fancier than what it was: babble at people to distract and annoy them, and then scram.

  For something so stupid, it worked better than it should.

  And even if it was all she had going for her, she had to do this. The need to act was a driving force inside her. She needed to do something.

  It had always been like this. Like something inside her was fighting to get out. It made her heart pump and her muscles twitch, and once it started, she needed to direct it somewhere or she’d end up going stir-crazy.

  Exercise helped. Playing sports helped. But nothing helped as much as setting her mind on one project and seeing it through. And the best projects were the ones that helped other people. Fundraising drives, coaching kids’ teams… or investigating claims of animal cruelty.

  Chloe had long ago given up trying to figure out what it was that made her fixate on things like this. One of her therapists had told her it was probably because of her parents dying, but the restless energy had been inside Chloe ever since she could remember. Long before she lost her family.

  She clenched her fists, the need to do something thrumming inside her. Patience. I’ll get there. Just have to figure out the lay of the land first.

  She walked slowly down the hallw
ay, trying to look as though wasn’t meant to be hiding herself away in the staff quarters. Her heels clacked on the polished marble floor. She knew exactly where she was going: the tower at the far end of the building.

  The resort had two towers, one on either end of the manor-house-like main building. Until now, they’d both been mysteries to Chloe. Like the “entertainers’” block, they’d been off-limits during her training. Tonight, though, she was determined to explore at least one of them.

  The doors into the northernmost tower on every level had been locked firmly ever since Chloe arrived on the island but tonight they were open, welcoming in Gerald Harper’s guests.

  An itchy, prickling excitement made all the hairs on Chloe’s arms stand on end. If Gerald Harper was hosting some sort of sick dogfighting ring for the wealthy, this must be where the fights were held.

  A small group of people came into view as Chloe rounded a corner and she caught her breath, springing back out of sight. Scraps of conversation reached her and she froze, straining her ears to hear more. What she did hear was almost painfully bland. Compliments on the dinner and wine. Compliments on the décor. Quiet excitement for the entertainment ahead.

  Thandie was flitting around the group like a little bird, offering flutes of champagne. Chloe crept up as the group moved through the tower door, trying to catch a glimpse of the room beyond.

  The doors swung shut. Damn it.

  Chloe lingered where she was for a few moments, then gathered her nerves and darted forward. The doors were heavy, solid wood, and although she could tell people were talking on the other side she couldn’t make out any words.

  She knelt in front of the door, pressing her ear to the keyhole. A deep male voice cut through the others, who fell silent. Chloe cursed under her breath. She still couldn’t tell what anyone was saying.

  She pressed one hand to the bodice of her dress, where she’d hidden a tiny micro-recorder. She’d felt stupid when she ordered it online, but if there was anything dodgy going on behind those doors, she needed to record it to have proof.