He tossed his head in the direction his ears were pointing, and we headed that way, slowly, to be sure we didn’t make any noise. We’d only gone a couple hundred feet when the afternoon quiet was shattered by the unmistakable thunk of a shovel into soil, followed immediately by the dull thud of dirt being tossed to the ground.

I knew those sounds. Hell, I’d made those sounds. Someone was digging a hole. Never a good sign.

I started to move forward again and Marc stepped in front of me, blocking my path—a clear order for me to stay back. “Like hell,” I whispered, and pushed him firmly out of the way. But before I could take the next step, a voice carried through the woods, on the tail of another clod of earth hitting the ground.

“That’s deep enough. It’s not like the fucker’s going to dig himself up.”

“Cal said six feet,” a second, much deeper voice replied, and I didn’t recognize either tom. Malone had hired new enforcers.

“He’ll never know,” the first voice said, and Marc took a careful, silent step forward. “It’s not like he’s gonna come out and bury the body himself.”

“If he does come out here, you’ll be the next one in the ground, Jess,” Deep Throat said.

I followed Marc, careful to step where he had and watch for twigs and pinecones, which would crunch and give us away. Who the hell were they burying? Not Brett. Surely his mother would demand a proper funeral for her second born.

“I don’t get why he keeps killing his own boys,” Jess said, and metal clanked, like he’d dropped his shovel on top of something.

Malone had killed another of his sons? Not Alex. He was too loyal to his father. Like some kind of wind-up soldier, marching without any thought for the orders he carried out.

Marc was a full body length ahead of me now, but I was still moving forward, my attention split between the overheard conversation and every element of nature with the potential to make noise beneath my foot. It was sooo much easier to be stealthy in cat form.

“Jace isn’t his,” Deep Throat said, and I froze with one foot still in the air.

Noooo. Pain shot through my chest, constricting it, as if my heart no longer had room to beat. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see beyond consuming pain and denial.

“He’s Patti’s, from her first husband,” Deep Throat continued as my eyes closed, denying tears an exit. Crying wouldn’t help. Anger would. “Jason Hammond.”

“What happened to him? Cal get him, too?”

Marc’s tail twitched, recapturing my attention, and I realized I hadn’t moved since I’d heard Jace’s name.

They’d killed Jace.

A storm of rage rolled over me, drenching me with hatred. I’d kill every bastard involved. Including Calvin Malone.

“Nah,” Deep Throat said as I inched forward, rage racing through my veins, hotter than blood, more potent than adrenaline. “He went out after a stray with his enforcers and got killed on the job. Cal was there. He had to tell Patti.”

Malone had been one of Jace’s dad’s enforcers? If that was true, what were the chances that Jason Hammond’s accident was really an accident?

Jess huffed. “Hammond must have been an idiot, just like his kid. Like anyone believes Jace is here for the funeral. Cal’s right—he’s a fucking spy.”

Wait! Jace is here for the funeral? Did that mean Jace was still alive?

I took careful steps until I reached Marc, then reached out to squeeze his shoulder. He nodded. He’d caught it, too.

“What’s Cal gonna tell Patti? She’s upset, but she’s not stupid. She’s gonna notice another son dying, and coincidence ain’t gonna cover it.”

There was a flash of motion between the branches, then the crack of plastic as Deep Throat opened what sounded like a bottle of water. “Jace won’t die. He’ll disappear, and she’ll assume he went back to his Pride.” We inched forward more and were now close enough to hear him gulp from his bottle. “Let’s go,” Deep Throat said, and I caught another glimpse of movement between two thick pines. I ducked, hoping he hadn’t seen us. Deep Throat was a short, thickly muscled tom in his early thirties. “If we hurry, we can still watch. They won’t be able to do it until they get him away from Patti.”

Something else thunked to the ground, and Marc glanced up at me. I nodded and held up three fingers, then dropped the third, beginning a silent countdown.

Jess and his partner came into full view between two trees. Jess was taller and well built, like most enforcers, but not as thick as Deep Throat, who drank from his water bottle as they walked.

Marc’s tail twitched silently. I dropped the second finger.

My pulse tripped in anticipation. I dropped the last finger.

My heart beat once more. Then I leaped between the trees.

Marc landed first, two feet from the shorter, thicker tom. Both men spun around, and Deep Throat dropped his bottle in surprise. Marc was on him in an instant.

I swung my left fist the moment I landed. My blow landed on Jess’s jaw. His head snapped back. I swung lower, and buried my fist in his gut.

Jess grunted, but his return punch flew fast and low. His fist slammed into the left side of my rib cage. My breath burst from my throat and my feet actually left the ground.

I landed on my ass in a pile of pine needles. Jess dropped on top of me. I threw another left into his ribs. His next blow hit the side of my head, and everything went hazy. Color faded. His face blurred over mine. I shoved against his chest with my good arm, but Jess only laughed. “Well, who the hell are you?”