“You throw off pheromones like crazy.” Cassidy touched his shoulder, the lightest brush. “You smell good.”

So did she. Her hair was warm, so near his lips. Her body moved against his. Diego could lift her hair in his hands, feel the warmth of the back of her neck, kiss the lips that turned up to him so readily.

He touched her cheek…

Cassidy jerked away, but not because of Diego. She riveted her attention to the trees, her body completely still.

“What is it?” he whispered.

Cassidy noiselessly rose in front of him. Diego got a great view of her tapered back, fine ass, and long, strong legs as she scanned the night.

“Can you smell that?” she asked.

Diego sniffed, but all he caught was pine, damp earth, and Cassidy’s warmth. “No.”

She gestured, keeping her hand close to her body. “Something in those rocks down the hill. Not the trackers, not Eric.”

Diego lifted his rifle. He had a starlight scope on it; nothing too high-tech, but there was enough moonlight out here to help him pick things out pretty clearly.

At the bottom of the hill and about twenty yards to the right was the outcropping of jagged rocks they’d climbed around to get up here. Diego trained his scope over it, picking up the movement of a rabbit, the flutter of an owl.

And something upright and human-shaped. “Got him,” Diego said. “It’s not a Shifter?”

At the same time Cassidy said, “No,” Diego knew it wasn’t.

The silhouette didn’t have the bulk of any of the Shifters he’d seen so far, and it moved too smoothly. It also burned bright hot, showing vivid green through the scope. Something with a temperature warmer than a human’s, maybe hotter even than a Shifter’s.

The man rose, turned, and raised his arms in a stance Diego recognized.

“Down!” He grabbed Cassidy and was on top of her, both of them facedown, as a bullet pinged on the rock she’d been standing next to.

“Sharpshooter,” he whispered into her ear. “He the same one from the construction site?”

“I don’t know.” Cassidy wriggled against him as she tried to raise her head to look.

Diego pinned her with his weight. “Stay down.”

“Let me shift.”

“He can shoot you in your animal form as fast as he can shoot your human form.”

“Yes, but I move better as a cat. You shoot at him, keep him looking your way, and I’ll get around behind him.”

“Screw that, Cassidy. No way am I letting you get anywhere near him.”

Cassidy turned her head to look at Diego. The rocks had scratched her cheek, and her face was smeared with dirt and blood. “Then what are we going to do? Lie here all night?”

“No, we’re going to lie here while I call for backup.”

Cassidy’s look turned to a glare. She thought that backup meant police.

“Screw you, Diego.”

She started to shift. It was bizarre being on top of her naked back as her body contorted into the lithe, furry one of the wildcat. Diego felt strength pour into Cassidy’s limbs, then he toppled off her as Cassidy scrambled to her feet.

“Damn it, Cassidy. Stay here.”

Cassidy snarled. Her ears went flat on her head, teeth bared—long, sharp, scary-looking teeth.

Another bullet pinged next to Diego’s shoulder. Cassidy leapt on Diego, sending him down to the dirt. Now she was on top of him. Her snarl softened, sounding admonishing rather than angry.

Staying close to the ground, Cassidy stepped off Diego and flowed away from him. She slunk down the hill, moving rapidly, and was almost instantly lost to sight.

Diego lifted the tranq rifle. The rifle shot only one dart at a time, and its range wasn’t great, but it had a scope. Otherwise, Diego couldn’t see a damn thing out here.

Diego drew his Sig, keeping the rifle on his shoulder at the same time. He found the shooter through the scope, the man still holding whatever powerful weapon he had. Diego brought up his pistol over the rifle’s barrel. He knew he didn’t have a chance in hell at hitting his target with the Sig, but maybe the noise and flying bullets would keep the shooter distracted. He shot.

The report was loud, and the shooter ducked. Two seconds later, another bullet chipped rock somewhere above Diego’s head.

He started to swear in Spanish, his preferred language for venting. No one could vent like Diego’s mother, and she’d taught her sons well.

They needed backup, and Diego didn’t have the faintest idea how to alert Eric and his trackers, or even where they were. The shooter had a hell of a silencer, good cover, and a decent rifle. The man could sit in those rocks all night and pick them off one by one.

Fuck that.

Diego lay down flat, pulled out his cell phone, hit number one on his speed dial, and hoped he wasn’t out of range of every cell tower in the region.

He got a phone ringing, to his relief. Come on, pick up. Pick up.

“Hey, hermano,” a deep voice said on the other end. “What’s up?”

“Xavier,” Diego croaked.

The ever-present cheerfulness left Xavier’s voice. “Seriously, what’s up?”

“I’m pinned down in the mountains by a sniper, and I need firepower.”

Xavier knew Diego wasn’t joking. “Shit. Did you call it in?”

“No. We’re not calling it in. Just get here.” He told Xavier exactly where he was, GPS coordinates and all.