Page 1 of Finding His Way

Chapter1

Miami

The light at the far end of the street flickered, obviously on its last leg. The overwhelming stench of piss and alcohol permeated the air. No dumpsters for anyone to hide behind, no doorways, not much of anything.

The Crown Vic that rolled into the area did so in the manner of a dark wraith, silent and sneaky without flashing lights or screaming sirens. The tires rotated over the pavement, making tiny snaps and pops on the small rocks and trash.

It parked, idling, while both front doors opened and two figures stepped from the interior. The humid air clinging to each of them in the manner of a wayward dryer sheet to the inside of a sleeve. Each person held a Glock as they made their way to the front of the car.

“Where are they?”

The woman’s voice was low and tense. She shifted her weight and slid to the left, eyes moving methodically, not sporadically or frantic, but with a measure of calm that had come from years of experience.

The man with her, shrugged and pointed toward the end of the alley without saying a single word. She sneered without a word, her partner was useless. A slight acidic breeze curved around them, ruffling the thinning hair and ill-fitting cut of his dress shirt. A tie and suit coat long having been relegated to the backseat of the car. His gut, once tight and flat now pressed against the buttons, straining their sturdiness. A hawkish nose took up the majority of his feature’s focus.

With a low growl of frustration, the woman took point and headed away from the car, gun ready to fire if needed. She hated this part, the not knowing but it all came with the damn job. And she was brilliant at it. Nope, not bragging, simply a fact.

The silence of the area was broken up by the revving of a powerful engine. Whipping around, the woman lifted her gun to fire and got off two shots at the car that ran her down, tossing her up over the hood of the sedan to slam into the windshield, rendering her unconscious. No sign of the partner who’d been with her.

Brake lights lit up the liquid on the asphalt ever so briefly. The driver got out and rushed to the prone body and checked for a pulse, then lifted her up and dropped her over his shoulder with zero care. The jarring hits had knocked her bun down and a waterfall of micro-braids fell around her face as she was carried and deposited without ceremony in the trunk.

The man was in such a rush to get out of there, he didn’t notice—or care—about the badge and holder that lay open on the ground. The yellowish light from a nearby pole highlighted it as the flickers continued. A steady rain started and the drops splashed on the plastic holder covering both the badge as well as the identification and ran down between the letters of the name there.

Detective Dianna Levitt.

Two months later,Khasansky District

“Would it kill you to pick up your fucking phone any one of the first five times I called?”

Jeremy Ruscino shrugged even though the man on the other end, Lando Vargas, couldn’t see him as they were on different continents. Pushing a hand through his shaggy dark blond hair, Jeremy braced a shoulder against the tree as he stared out over the area. Sparse and barren in this wintery weather, he continued to search for what he sought.

“Been busy.” The wind shifted and he lifted his face into the breeze, both for a wake up call, the freezing wind and snow would help with that and to ensure he was still safe. This area was not one he should ever not be aware in. Not that he was caught unaware, his cat made sure, even if he was occupied with something else to keep its senses open. He shifted his weight against the trunk, the rough bark not bothering him in the slightest.

“Thought we were all taking some time off.”

Did he detect reprimand in the man’s tone? Yes, yes he definitely had. Didn’t matter that Lando could shift into a four hundred and fifty pound black jaguar. The man wasn’t his alpha. In fact, no one was. He worked with Lando purely because he respected him, end of story. Not because there existed some sort of misguided loyalty to the shifter.

Well, perhaps there was some, for he would go through hell for the man if he asked. Heck, he’d do it for any of the small group he worked with. A surprising shock, in all actuality, given how much of a loner he was, but these guys were worth his loyalty. All four of them. They were his second family.

“I am taking time off…from Search and Rescue.”

That wasn’t his only job and one of his others was the reason he was close to the China-North Korea-Russian tripoint. He was here for a retrieval. This was what he was best at. Bringing something, or someone in, without regard to how others felt about it. He took a job, got paid, and moved on. Doing search and rescues, he a lot of the times had to be gentle and kind for they were scared and hurt.

I’m neither gentle nor kind.

He wasn’t either. He had lived a rough life, still did, and was a survivor. That meant, oftentimes being the strongest one and doing what was needed to wake up the next day and possibly get some food.

“There is so much to unpack in that single statement, but I don’t give a fuck right now. How soon can you get back?”

The question snapped him back to the here and now. There was a thread of something in Lando’s voice that set Jeremy on edge. Hereallydidn’t like the ripple of anger from his leopard.

“What’s going on? You didn’t leave a message that there was a problem.”

“Didn’t think you would ghost us.” Definitely reprimand.

His leopard, who had been checking the area around them for potential dangers, went predator still, every single muscle locked and loaded. As if he knew something Jeremy had yet to learn. “What. Is. Wrong?”

“Dianna. She’s been missing for two months.”

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