A shadow moved up behind him, and he sniffed, automatically scenting the air.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he smelled the unfamiliar shifter.

When the shadow lifted what looked to be some sort of stick or bat into the air, Jim moved into action. He spun, his elbow tucked into his side to protect his ribs, his other hand raised to try and catch the arm of the shifter.

The shock on the shifter’s face didn’t stop him from taking a swing at Jim. Jim stepped in close, managing to grab hold of the shifter’s arm at the biceps and elbow, blocking the baton from hitting him. He grunted a bit as he took a hit to his abdomen, but now that he had the man’s arm locked, he pivoted, using his attacker’s momentum to put the shifter on the ground. He kept hold of his attacker’s wrist and twisted, managing to grab hold of the baton as his attacker moved under him.

The shifter was surprisingly fast, jumping to his feet with a canine growl. Without missing a beat, he threw a punch at Jim.

Jim expected something like that as soon as the shifter got up. He parried the punch, then moved his free hand up to grab his assailant’s wrist. He then used his elbow to drive his opponent back, staggering him. As he stood back up, Jim got his first good look at the guy.

He was easily three to four inches taller than Jim, with massive shoulders, huge biceps and a thick jaw. The man was a tank with legs, and he was staring at Jim with sheer determination.

“Let me guess.” Jim kept his voice low, his stance easy. He watched his opponent’s eyes and body language, aware the guy was going to attack again. “Someone from the Senate sent you.”

“You’re rogue, and need to be brought in.”

Jim shook his head. “Use your senses. What do they tell you, Hunter?”

The man grinned viciously. “I’m not a Hunter.”

What?

Before Jim could process that, the man barreled toward him, looking to take Jim to the ground. If that happened, Jim would be damn near helpless against the larger man’s body mass.

Instead of dodging, Jim took a step forward and did an overhand punch to the man’s jaw, knocking the shifter sideways and disrupting his momentum. Jim pivoted and jabbed the shifter’s stomach, then quickly followed it up with a roundhouse kick to the guy’s groin.

The shifter somehow shook the jewel shot off and swung, but Jim was turning out to be faster than his opponent. He barely dodged out of the way, the man’s beefy knuckles clipping his jaw.

Chloe was going to be pissed if he came home bruised.

“Thought I’d be easier to take down, you son of a bitch?” Jim smiled grimly. “Should have done more homework on your target, dick breath.”

The shifter rubbed his jaw, not rising to the bait of Jim’s insult. “I guess so.” The shifter glanced behind Jim. “Looks like we’re gathering an audience.”

“Maybe you should give up, then. I’m sure James Barnwell will go easy on you.”

The man grimaced at the sound of Barney’s name. “Why the hell is he in town?”

“Ask him.”

Instead of responding, the shifter threw a punch that nearly knocked Jim on his ass. He barely managed to block it, but his training kicked in, and he reverse punched the asshole right in the solar plexus. He then jabbed his palm toward his opponent’s eye, forcing the shifter’s head back.

It was time to take this asshole down.

He allowed his Wolf senses to come to the fore, his vision changing, losing the red-green spectrum. His sense of hearing became sharper, his nose twitching as he smelled his opponent’s rising frustration.

That was good. If the other shifter was becoming sloppy Jim would be able to use that to his advantage. Jim went after his opponent, cursing to himself when the guy dipped and Jim’s attack missed by barely an inch. The follow-up punch rocked Jim’s head back, causing him to see stars. He barely had time to block the next attack.

It was a reminder not to get cocky or the other shifter would win.

The sound of sirens had his attacker backing off, his attention split between Jim and the street. “This isn’t over.”

“Not by a long shot,” Jim answered. He stared as the shifter ran off, sliding into the copse of trees just behind the clinic.

Two police cars pulled up as Jim tried to pull his Wolf back. He needed his eyes to return to normal before he gave his report to the cops. Neither of the cops who got out of their cars were shifters, but Jim had seen them both around town. “Hey, Doc. Everything okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I think the guy wanted to rob me and I put up more of a fight than he expected.” He couldn’t exactly tell the two that he was a target of a shifter.

One of the cops loped into the woods after Jim’s attacker. While he wanted to call the officer back, he couldn’t, not without raising some suspicions he couldn’t answer. So he prayed the shifter had gotten far enough away that the cop wouldn’t find him.

“Any idea who it might have been?”

Jim was able to answer that one honestly, at least. “Never seen him before in my life.”

“Anyone have a grudge against you?”

Jim shrugged. “Not that I’m aware of. It’s not like snipping Rover’s balls off is going to make me an enemy for life, right?”

The cop laughed. “I’d ask Rover about that if I were you.”

Jim grinned, the adrenaline rush beginning to wear off. His hands were beginning to shake, and he was getting nauseous. If he hadn’t seen the shifter’s shadow, he was pretty sure he’d be, if not dead, then at least kidnapped. “I’m pretty sure Rover is pissed as hell. Want to question him?”

“I think I’ll pass, Doc.”

The other cop jogged up, panting. “He’s gone.”

Jim sighed in relief.

“Come down to the station and let’s get a report, Doc.” The cop patted him on the shoulder. “You’ve got one hell of a bruise coming up on your chin.”

“Great.” Neither Spencer nor Chloe was going to allow him out of the house by himself ever again.

Chapter Fifteen

When Jim walked in the door three hours late Chloe was ready to jump out of her skin. What the hell had happened to keep him from…?

“Jim?” She limped to his side, sore from unpacking. His face was bruised and he was clutching his stomach. “What happened?”