Page 55 of Ranger's Justice

His eyes widen, and behind him, the second man makes a run for it. Gideon is on him in an instant. The bastard barely makes it ten feet before Gideon tackles him to the ground, rolling him onto his stomach and wrenching his arms behind his back.

I tighten my grip on my captive, dragging him closer, lowering my voice to something lethal. “Where did you think you were going?”

His throat bobs. “A rendezvous point.”

“What’s waiting there?”

His eyes dart toward the horizon, where the stretch of an abandoned strip of asphalt half a mile ahead. He licks his lips, hesitating.

I press my knee into his chest, pinning him. “I won’t ask again.”

His breath shudders out. “Buyers. Another shipment.”

Ice crawls through my veins. “When?”

“Tonight. Midnight.”

Gideon and Gage exchange a look.

I bring my Glock up and give the guy’s temple a nasty smack—not enough to kill him, but enough to put his lights out for several hours. It shouldn’t take us that long.

Gage chuckles. “Told you we’d get a lead.”

Gideon exhales sharply, shaking his head. “And now we have a bigger problem.”

I glance at the makeshift airstrip. The mission just changed. We weren’t just shutting down a single warehouse. We’re about to take down an entire operation.

The rendezvous point looms ahead, a skeletal outline in the dim light, its crumbling asphalt stretching into the desert like a scar on the earth. The other cartel survivors are moving fast, darting between rusted-out vehicles and stacks of more shipping containers. They think they can escape.

They’re wrong. I drop to a knee, fingers curling into the dry earth beneath me, my wolf pacing just under my skin, eager, hungry for the hunt. Beside me, Gideon and Gage mirror my movements, their bodies coiled tight with the same raw anticipation.

“Spread out,” I murmur, voice low, lethal. “We take them before they get to their transport.”

Gideon’s lips curl in a rare, predatory smile. “Been waiting all night for this.”

Gage simply nods, rolling his shoulders, already sinking into that razor-sharp focus that makes him one of the most dangerous men on my team.

I glance back toward the warehouse one last time. Cassidy is still there, helping the girls into the transport vehicle, her expression tight with focus. She’s safe. That’s all that matters.

I turn back to Gideon and Gage. We undress and I give the order. “Shift.”

Electricity surges through the air like a gathering storm. The hairs on the back of my neck rise as the charge builds, power twisting and coiling inside me like a live wire. The first crack of energy bursts along my skin, a sharp, electric snap, followed by another. The ground trembles beneath us, the desert sand vibrating with the force of what’s coming.

Then it happens.

Lightning flashes—jagged, raw streaks of white-hot energy arcing through the darkness, splitting the air with a deafening crack. The world around us distorts, edges blurring, shifting, collapsing into something unnatural, something wild.

Mist swirls, thick and charged, glowing with shards of color—deep blues, rich ambers, molten gold that dances in the air like embers caught in a windstorm. The shift tears through me, stretching and breaking and reforming all at once. My vision sharpens, the darkness becoming something tangible, every movement around me a pinpoint of clarity.

Then the mist dissipates, and I emerge on all fours. A low, rolling growl rumbles in my chest as my claws dig into the desert floor. My wolf is free.

To my left, Gideon shakes out his new form, his jet-black coat sleek and shiny, his silver eyes gleaming with anticipation. To my right, Gage is already moving, his sleek, gray form silent as he prowls forward, his ears flicking as he hones in on the sounds of our prey.

We don’t hesitate. We move as one, slipping into the shadows, our wolves nearly invisible in the darkness. The cartel members don’t hear us. They don’t see us.

They don’t stand a chance.

The first man is barely ten yards ahead, running full speed toward a waiting SUV, his breath ragged, his pulse pounding so loud I can hear it in my skull. He clutches his rifle like a lifeline, scanning the desert behind him, expecting men to be chasing him.

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