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  Three to Get Ready

  Pantera Security League

  by

  Alexandra Ivy

  and

  Laura Wright

  Three to Get Ready

  **The mystery and epic romance of the Pantera Security League continue in THREE TO GET READY, the third story in our new, sexy Bayou Heat offshoot!**

  A Need to Kill

  Gorgeous Pantera spy, Nael has been given one job. Find the asset and bring it back to the Wildlands. An easy task for a male who has an entire network of high-powered contacts spread around the world. In and out, and off to the next job. No complications.

  That is, until a feisty and very sexy female drops into his arms. Literally.

  A Fight for Love

  Beautiful, ruthless, Miranda wants one thing; to rip out the heart of the bastard who’d held her captive and killed her sister. But the male continues to elude her. Then she discovers Nael, a frustratingly hot Pantera male, who promises to help her destroy her enemy.

  Does she dare trust him? And more importantly, does she dare trust herself not to fall for him?

  Three to Get Ready

  Copyright © 2019 Alexandra Ivy and Laura Wright

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN: 9780997875874

  Table of Contents

  THREE TO GET READY

  About the Book

  Copyright

  Legend of the Pantera

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from THE DARKNESS RETURNS

  Excerpt from BEWARE THE DARKNESS

  About the Authors

  Legend of the Pantera

  To most people, the Pantera, a mystical race of puma-shifters who live in the depths of the Louisiana swamps, have become little more than a legend.

  It was rumored that in the ancient past, twin sisters, born of magic, had created a sacred land and claimed it as their own. From that land came creatures who were neither human nor animal, but a mixture of the two.

  They became faster and stronger than normal humans. Their senses were hyper-acute. And when surrounded by the magic of the Wildlands, they were capable of shifting into pumas.

  It was also whispered that they possessed other gifts. Telepathy, witchcraft, immortality and the ability to produce a musk that could enthrall mere mortals.

  Mothers warned young girls never to roam alone near the swamps, convinced that they would be snatched by the Pantera, while young men were trained to avoid hunting anywhere near the protected Wildlands.

  Not that the warnings were always successful.

  What girl didn’t dream of being seduced by a gorgeous, mysterious stranger? And what young man didn’t want to try his skill against the most lethal predators?

  As the years passed, however, the sightings of the Pantera became so rare that the rumors faded to myths.

  Most believed the species had become extinct.

  All except a group of humans led by Christopher Benson, the CEO of Benson Enterprises. The reclusive, mysterious businessman has made a fortune by capturing Pantera and experimenting on them in his secret laboratories. He’s created serums with their blood that can offer youth and vitality to his rich and powerful friends. And injected select members of the armed forces with their DNA in the attempt to create super-soldiers.

  But his ultimate end-game for the Pantera is only now being revealed.

  Can the Pantera, with help from the elusive and deadly Six, discover the truth of his evil scheme before it’s too late?

  Chapter One

  New Orleans

  Nathanael deliberately chose a restaurant in the 1st Ward near the Mississippi River for his meeting with Raphael. At a glance, the place looked like a dive. The front was narrow, with faded bricks and a black awning that flapped in the breeze. Inside wasn’t much better. The wooden floor was warped, and the strands of lights in the open-beamed ceiling barely offered enough illumination to reveal the cramped booths that surrounded the large bar in the middle of the dining room.

  The place made no effort to attract the hordes of tourists who swamped the city, but every local knew that they served the best gumbo with beer bread in town.

  And since Nael had made the effort to become close friends with the owner, he was always given a table on the small balcony that not only offered a view of the slow-moving river, but granted him the privacy he desired.

  After all, he was a ghost. One of the six elite members of the Pantera Security who worked undercover. Which meant he had to take care not to be spotted by any of his fellow puma-shifters. Or goddess-forbid, any members of his family.

  As far as they knew, he was dead.

  Strolling through the back door, he headed toward the specialized cooler at the front of the kitchen. He ignored the lingering glances from the waitresses. He was used to females who were fascinated by his square, chiseled male features that were more compelling than handsome and the brilliant blue eyes that were surrounded by a rim of pure jade. His body was solid with muscles that were hard as stone beneath the black slacks and crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to show his forearms. His dark brown hair was kept short, emphasizing the hint of smooth sophistication.

  He was well aware that a large part of their fascination stemmed from the pheromones that were a natural part of his shifter nature. When it came to sexual charisma, nothing could beat puma musk.

  Go fuck yourself, Old Spice.

  Grabbing a six pack of Raphael’s favorite house-brewed beer, Nael placed it on a tray, along with two bowls of steaming-hot gumbo and a freshly baked loaf of bread. Then with a nod toward the beefy chef, who was barking orders to his crew, he headed toward the narrow flight of stairs that led to the balcony and the unexpectedly cool afternoon air.

  He’d just finished placing the tray on his favorite table next to the iron railing and settling into one of the chairs when the sound of heavy footsteps warned of Raphael’s approach.

  Grabbing a beer and popping off the cap, Nael took a deep pull of the crisp ale, not bothering to glance over his shoulder. He could already feel the thunderous force of the older male’s power before Raph crossed the wooden planks and dropped into the chair across from him.

  Raphael was technically the leader of the Suits, or the diplomatic arm of the Pantera, but everyone knew that he’d taken control of the puma-shifters ever since the elders had retreated from their leadership role. He was a certified badass. A trait Nael both understood and respected.

  The large male with pale hair and golden eyes was wearing jeans and a cream sweater that was stretched across his broad chest. But it was the fierce heat in his eyes that caught Nael’s attention.

  The male was born a diplomat. Which meant he had the ability to control his temper, even when he was in the middle of a shit-storm. But Nael could easily sense the frustration that was snapping and popping just below the surface.

  “Trouble?” Nael asked as Raph grabbed a
spoon and started to consume the gumbo in front of him.

  Raph snorted. “Have you ever tried to herd a bunch of feral, rabies-infected cats, Nathanael?” he demanded.

  Nael’s lips twitched. He knew that Raph was coming straight from a meeting with two of Nael’s fellow League members who’d already completed their missions and were now demanding to be given the right to either be released from their commitment to the PSL so they could mate or allowed to break the no-attachments oath and remain. That didn’t even include his handling of the other three—Z and Ram and Leo—who were out there looking for their targets. It was enough to make any cat growl with frustration.

  Still, Nael wasn’t going to give his companion any sympathy.

  It wasn’t their way.

  “Lightweight stuff,” Nael told his Raph with a snort. Like his boss, he’d been born a Suit, and for years he’d traveled the world, passing himself off as a wealthy human businessman before he’d become a ghost. “Once I spent an entire week convincing a congressional oversight committee not to sell the protected wetlands to an oil company that intended to drain the swamps so they could start drilling.”

  Raph polished off his gumbo and leaned back in his seat. “That was before I took over as leader, but I remember hearing about that,” he said. “The spot they wanted to drill was only a few miles from the Wildlands, wasn’t it?”

  Nael nodded. “Too close for comfort.”

  “I was out of the country when that happened. How did you stop them?”

  “I convinced them that I represented a conservation group who would be happy to donate large amounts of money to their election campaigns if they kept the lands undeveloped. I even waved around a few fat stacks of cash that made their mouths water.”

  Raph’s lips twitched. “Were you the conservation group?”

  “I was.”

  “And the election donations?”

  Nael chuckled. He still remembered the shrill cries when the politicians realized they weren’t going to get any easy handout. They’d sounded like pigs going to slaughter.

  “I don’t spend good money on trash. I gave the cash to the non-profit group that was working to keep the wetlands protected.”

  Raph gave a rueful shake of his head. “I still say that there’s nothing more stubborn than a newly mated Pantera. Both Cerviel and Elyon went from strong-willed pains in my ass to downright unmanageable pains in my ass since they found their mates.”

  Nael grabbed an ice-cold beer and set it in front of his friend. “Here.”

  Raph grabbed the bottle and twisted off the lid before downing a long drink. “How did you know this was exactly what I needed?”

  Nael leaned back in his chair, studying Raph. Although their lives as Suits meant that they’d spent a lot of time away from the Wildlands, the two males had always been close.

  “You’ve been juggling disasters for the past couple of years,” he pointed out. “Every leader needs a few minutes to put his feet up and relax.”

  Two more deep pulls and the bottle was empty. Nael swiftly had a fresh beer in front of the older male.

  Raph smiled. “Did I ever tell you that you’re my favorite?”

  “Only because I remembered to bring your beloved and not-so-easy-to-find home brew.”

  “Yep.” Raph popped the top. “I’m easy.”

  Nael remained serious and gave a slow shake of his head. “No. You’re the rock we all lean on.”

  Predictably, Raph flushed at Nael’s praise. The male didn’t choose to become leader because of some swollen ego, or because he thought he always knew what was best. He led because people depended on him.

  End of story.

  “Some would say that I have rocks for brains,” he said in dismissive tones.

  Nael refused to be diverted. For endless months the Pantera had been battling one enemy after another. It was time that someone acknowledged why the pack was still together, and stronger than ever.

  “In the middle of every shit-storm that’s hit the Pantera, you’ve been the one we’ve all looked to for direction. It was like we knew as long as you were still standing, we’d survive and come out the other side.” He held up his beer in a toast. “That’s no small responsibility.”

  Raph shook his head, refusing to accept the kudos. “I’m not doing this alone. For one, I have my female, my partner at my side. But there are a lot of us who’ve made sacrifices to protect our kind.”

  Nael took a drink and set aside his bottle. “Hey, don’t look at me. In my case, I’m doing exactly what I want to do,” he said dryly. It was the truth. He’d been cursed with a rabid need for adventure for as long as he could remember. When other cubs were learning to climb a tree, he would already be leaping from the top branch. He started sneaking out of the Wildlands as soon as he could walk. And his favorite hobby was jumping from planes. Becoming a secret spy who faced danger on a nightly basis had been like crack to an addict. “It’s my family who are the ones being forced to suffer.”

  Raph leaned forward. “They’re doing fine. I swear.”

  His hand clenched on the table. “Did you make sure my sister and her new mate were allowed to move into my cottage?” he demanded.

  Years ago, his father had built a snug little cottage in the Wildlands. The older Pantera had hoped the home would lure his son to settle down.

  To Nael, it’d felt like a ball and chain.

  “It’s all done,” Raph assured him.

  “Good. I hated the thought of it standing empty.”

  “Not as much as you hated the thought of living there.”

  Nael grimaced. “You know me too well.”

  The older male gave a shake of his head. “Not really. I know you have a habit of putting yourself in danger. And that you can’t be in one place longer than a few days without starting to get itchy. But I don’t understand what drives you.”

  Nael turned his face into the cool breeze, allowing his gaze to skim over a barge that was gliding smoothly toward a nearby dock. He could hear the shouts of the deckhands, and closer, the buzz of conversation from the lunch crowd below. The very air hummed with the frenetic energy that made up New Orleans. A city he loved, but was already anxious to leave.

  Hey, he’d been there almost a week while he’d tried to solve the riddle that Raph had sent him.

  That was six days longer than he wanted to stay.

  “Nothing drives me,” he said with a shrug. “I just get bored when I remain in one place. Like I’m being collared and leashed.”

  “You just haven’t found a reason to stay.”

  Nael arched a brow. “A fact that should please you, considering you’ve been cursing the League members who’ve become entangled with the assets they were sent to retrieve. You don’t have to worry about that with me.”

  “Christ.” Raph rolled his eyes. “If I had a dollar for every Pantera who swore they had no interest in a mate, I’d be a wealthy puma.” He pointed a finger in Nael’s face. “Instinct is a powerful force, my friend. Never underestimate it.”

  Nael yawned. How many times had he heard the same words from his father? And his mother? And his sisters? Blah. Blah. Blah.

  “I take instinct wherever and whenever I can find it. It doesn’t rule me. Or follow me. Just thanks me for the pleasure I provide.” He grinned.

  Raphael shook his head. “You guys never learn.”

  Nael waved away the ridiculous words. “Are you ready to hear why I asked you to come or would you prefer to finish your beer and continue spouting off those golden nuggets of wisdom?”

  “You’re no longer my favorite,” Raph announced, polishing off his beer and grabbing another bottle. “Okay. Tell me what you’ve discovered.”

  Nael was instantly all business.

  “I didn’t find anything on the remaining locations,” he said, referring to the list they’d recently intercepted from their enemy Christopher Benson: Code red. Dispose of all test subjects at Rattlesnake Ranch, China House, The Orcha
rd, Mulberry Lane, Battle Creek, and RR. “The names could refer to restaurants or private estates or a thousand other sites. I need something more to narrow them down.”

  Raphael’s lip curled. “Is this supposed to be helpful?”

  “I did hear, however, from one of my contacts.”

  “And?”

  “Christopher Benson was recently spotted in D.C.,” he added quickly. Like he was ripping off a bandage. One he knew his leader was no doubt going to hurriedly reaffix.

  Raph drew his brows together. “Your mission is to locate the assets, not Benson.”

  Nael knew his mission all too well. Find and retrieve the test subjects that Benson was desperate to destroy. They had already managed to find two of them, and they’d been returned to the edges of the Wildlands where they could keep a close watch on them. So far they didn’t have a clue why Benson had altered the humans in his creepy lab, or why he was suddenly anxious to destroy them.

  Which was why he couldn’t let an obvious lead slip away.

  “Don’t you think it’s odd that a man who’s been in hiding for weeks suddenly risks his neck to travel to Washington?” he demanded.

  “Benson has a lot of contacts among people in power,” Raph said, his voice thick with the ferocity of his cat. No need to ask the older man his opinion of Christopher Benson. His hatred was a tangible, choking force. “He could be hoping to get their help to save his sorry ass from us.”