Page 61 of Stray Cat

Xav swam into and out of consciousness, each time trying to haul himself up and fight whoever had knocked him out before sinking into blackness again.

Once, he felt a rocking movement beneath him and smelled the close confines of a vehicle. Screwing open his eyes revealed that he lay in the back of a large van, with what felt like a scratchy carpet beneath him. Lindsay was curled up next to Xav, seemingly asleep, which relieved the hell of out him. They were both still unclothed, but at least the van was heated.

Moving lights reflected in the two small windows on the rear door, but Xav had no energy to pull himself up and peer through them, let alone try to break them to slither out.

When he half woke the next time, he reflected that whoever had grabbed him had done a much better job keeping him under than AC’s boys. They also hadn’t bound his hands or feet, which meant they weren’t worried about him getting away.

While there were many enemies who possibly could have done this, Xav focused on the most likely culprit—the gang who’d nabbed Dean. They must have known Xav and Diego were investigating them, and they weren’t the kind of people who’d make an appointment at DX’s offices if they had questions.

They must want to know what Xav and DX Security knew—and what Jeff had told them—to decide whether DX would pose any kind of threat. Or, if they were trying to reel in AC, maybe they wanted more bait.

They need Xav and Lindsay alive, Xav concluded, before he slid into unconsciousness again. Or else they’d have simply killed them both—or tried to, anyway.

The next time Xav came to, his head was much clearer, though his mouth was parchment dry, and he had a foul taste in his throat.

He was no longer in the van but lying on a cold cement floor in a place that felt large, with a pile of fabric on top of him. He fumbled at the fabric and discovered it was clothes—jeans and a sweatshirt. His own, in fact.

While it was dark in here, it wasn’t pitch black. Light filtered in from somewhere, showing him a tall aisle with filled shelves in what looked like a large warehouse. Lindsay was nowhere in sight.

Xav went cold with fear, but incandescent rage quickly followed.

If they’d touched Lindsay, or even looked at her,his mate, they would pay with all the blood in their bodies.

Xav quickly slid into the garments, having to stop from time to time as dizziness took over. His captors hadn’t bothered to grab underwear, socks, or shoes, he thought in annoyance, but at least they were letting him cover his ass.

Once Xav was dressed and no longer felt like he was about to puke, he leveraged himself to his feet. He wasn’t guarded, which again, did not bode well. His abductors believed he couldn’t get away and that he posed no threat.

They were wrong, of course, but Xav would let them think what they wanted.

There was no question this time of Diego tracking Xav. The tracker he’d worn for the mission was back home, along with his phone and the rest of his life. Xav had only this sweatshirt and jeans with empty pockets.

He had an entire warehouse of who knew what goodies that might help him, but first Xav needed to find Lindsay.

He started down the long aisle toward what looked like open space at its end. He had to pause and hang onto shelves to keep upright at first, but as his muscles uncramped and blood flowed, the effects of the drug lessened.

While the floor was cold to his bare feet, it wasn’t freezing. Xav would welcome coolness like this in the middle of the blistering summer.

The shelves were filled with unmarked boxes, many dusty. Xav wondered if this place had been abandoned by whatever company had stored their stuff here, and the gang had simply appropriated it.

Once he emerged from the aisle, Xav found himself in the corner of a vast warehouse with many more aisles of shelves and pallets of crates across the floor. Moonlight filtered through high ventilation windows, and a warmer light filled the windows of a walled office space that had been built in the center of the large room.

Xav kept to the shadows as he approached the office, then he pressed himself against a solid part of its wall and carefully peered through a bent slat in one of the windows’ blinds.

The small workspace inside was devoid of the desks, worktables, or shelving found in most offices. It held a few swivel chairs, like those a person would use at a computer station, plus a long folding table against one wall that held a microwave and a coffee maker.

Lindsay sat on one of the swivel chairs. They hadn’t bound her, and she lounged with her legs folded up under her.

She wore the cargo pants and the thin fleece shirt she’d donned to hike around the desert in, but no shoes or jacket. She was wide awake, Xav could see, and far less groggy than Xav still felt.

The three men in the room with Lindsay showed no wariness of her at all. They had no weapon trained on her and weren’t watching her that closely. No worries that she’d attack them, slash them with claws, and easily race away.

Xav felt a grin pull at his face. They didn’t realize Lindsay was Shifter.

She’s left her fake Collar on his nightstand, and even if she’d not shed it, they might not have recognized it if they weren’t familiar with Shifters. She bore a thin scar where the real Collar had once fused into her skin, but again, if these humans didn’t realize what that meant, they’d pay it no attention.

Xav studied the three with her. The two standing were obvious bone-breakers, hired for their muscle and ruthlessness. The dark-haired man with hard blue eyes, who sat in a swivel chair facing Lindsay, was clearly in charge.

He was younger than the other two, thirties at most. Xav had never seen him before, but his features were familiar, probably because he looked a lot like the AC of fifteen years ago.

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