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Snared: New Orleans Shifters Novel (A New Orlean's Shifter Novel Book 3) Read online




  Everyone who has supported me so far - this one is for you! Thank you for being there! Your love and support are highly appreciated.

  Contents

  Dedication

  A New Orleans’ Shifter Novel

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  CHAPTER 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  CHAPTER 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  The End

  A New Orleans’ Shifter Novel

  Snared

  C. J. Snyder

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  Copyright © 2020 C.J. Snyder

  [email protected]

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author's intellectual property. If you would like to use any material from this book (other than review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author's rights.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or deceased, places, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

  Paranormal/Fantasy Romance

  Disclaimer: The material in this book may contain language that can be construed as offensive with some descriptive nudity and sexual scenes. The reader is advised. Purchase or possession of this book means the reader is agreeing they have read and understood the disclaimer and holds the author completely harmless of any wrongdoing.

  All characters in this book are age consenting adults of 18 or older.

  C.J. Snyder

  www.cjsnyder.net

  It always seems impossible, until it's done - Nelson Mandela

  Prologue

  When you’re alone in the world for most of your life, it tends to make life easier when things go wrong. This has been my philosophy since I was thirteen years old. Being a loner is my thing, that is until I moved to New Orleans and became friends with a group who would prove to be my lifelines.

  Fighting an enemy together that we knew nothing about, made me realize I was wrong in my assumption that I didn’t need anyone to rely on. I do need them; I need them so much, that I don’t know what I’d do without them.

  These are the things you think about when you are alone, locked in an unknown place with a man that may mean to kill you like he did your family. Life for me is changing; let’s just hope I survive that change.

  Chapter 1

  Claire

  Why can’t I see anything? It’s so dark. My night vision should be kicking in so I can see my surroundings and I can’t see anything at all.

  The last thing I remember is running through the bayou after the group of ‘Hunters’ we were trailing. Gage was ahead of me by just a few yards and I could see the bird boys overhead when I looked up. Gage alerted me telepathically that he got one by the leg and then everything went black.

  Though something is covering my head, the dank, musty, smell of wet wood drifts to my nostrils, making my eyes water. And goosebumps form on my arms from the chill surrounding me. Where the fuck am I? Trying to calm my mind enough to listen for any clues to my location, I tilt my head to the side. Nothing but silence. Attempting to move my limbs again, I realize they are attached to the chair I’m in by something that is not affected by the inhuman strength I possess. I feel my lynx prowling inside me. She isn’t too happy being bound either. For the first time in a long time, fear congeals in my gut. My ears are working fine but still, there is no sound. Again, I try and get my arms to move…nothing. I sit motionless trying to think of a way out of wherever I am.

  Suddenly, I hear footsteps approaching. Holding still I listen to track the sounds. Are they coming near me? With the echo off the walls, I can feel but not see I can’t be sure where the steps are or are going to. Calm down, Claire. You have to stay calm. You can do this.

  “Oh, you’re awake.” A deep, cultured, male voice with an accent that I can’t quite place penetrates through the headcover and assaults my ears. How did he know? He’s pacing around the chair; I can hear the fall of his heavy footsteps as he makes his way behind where I’m seated. My blood is pumping loudly in my ears and my adrenaline is on high alert. His hands land on the back of the chair and he leans close to my right ear. I can smell his cologne – woodsy and vanilla. My lynx stops prowling, lets out one long hiss, then freezes seeing what I see – nothing.

  His breath is hot against the exposed skin of my collarbone as he leans in to whisper. “You can’t snap these restraints, Claire, so don’t even try. They are holding you with powerful magic that works against your shifter magic. If you can be a good kitty, I’ll take off the head cover.” He shoved the back of the chair, making my head snap forward and my chin hit my chest. “And if you’re a really good kitty, I’ll give you a room of your own and some treats.”

  The urge to snarl and hiss at him was strong, but somehow, I resisted. She wants out now. And she has some damn treats for him! Taking a deep breath, I hold it and plead with her to back off. We cannot let whoever has us see her – for now.

  Moving my head to the source of his voice to show him that I wasn’t scared even though I was shaking with terror, I asked, “Who are you and where am I?”

  His footsteps moved again to a position right in front of me. I follow the sound with my head and I swear I could hear him breathing as if he was leaning in my face to do so. Chuckling deeply, he’s right in front of me now, so close if my legs weren’t tied down I’d be able to kick out and smash the son of a bitch’s face in.

  “I am someone who can bring an end to you. I am something no one of your kind has ever dealt with before.” Placing both hands on my tied down arms, I could feel cold electricity emitting from his skin where he was touching me. I tensed all over. The contact was getting a reaction from my lynx and not a good one. It was taking all I had to keep her from taking over. Leaning in close again he says in a low gravely tone, “You are far from home, that’s all you need to know.”

  He squeezed my forearms before letting go and walking away. I could only hear a heavy door latching somewhere in the room leaving me to my thoughts and the darkness. I sagged in relief. Don’t know what was scarier, being inside my head, or the knowledge that I was trapped somewhere with a madman.

  Still not knowing where I was but trying to listen for any type of sound to determine my location, I closed my eyes and tried to tap into my animal’s sense of hearing. It was harder when in human form, but not impossible. The rush of blood coursing through my veins due to my adrenaline being on high alert was all I could hear. Damn it!

  I tried jerking my arms free from the restraints again; to no avail which caused me to let out a frustrated roar. Not being able to see and have a sense of time was starting to
wear on my mental state, which is what they wanted, I’m assuming. Anger was quickly replacing fear when footsteps started approaching from outside.

  Male voices lead up to the door to where I was being held captive, laughing at some kind of joke as they walked into the room. They were human; I could smell the stench of whiskey and bodies that haven’t been showered for a couple of days. Take a shower, you heathens.

  “Ah, yes, he said you were awake. Good.” One of the humans reached over and snatched the headcover off, none too gently. My head snapped to the side with the pull and some of my hair covered my eyes. Slowly raising my head to stare him in the eyes, I hoped my eyes didn’t betray the fear that had settled in my belly again when they entered the room.

  Standing in front of me with his arms crossed over a broad, muscular chest was a man maybe in his late thirties, with brown hair and a military-type cut. Standing next to him, was a short and fatter older man, maybe in his fifties, wearing what looked like a lab coat.

  Military-cut hunched down on his knees to get eye level with me, “Well, Claire, nice to finally see you awake in your human form. I have to say, your animal form is just lovely,” Snickering to himself he continued, “We have so much planned for you, but I want you to be able to keep your strength up, so the Dr here,” motioning to the man in the lab coat, “is going to sedate you enough to so I can move you to that nearby cell.”

  Sneering up at him, “You don’t have to sedate me, just untie my legs and I’ll walk.”

  The Dr moved closer to me with a syringe the size of a baseball bat, “Now, now. We don’t want you lashing out and escaping. It’s easier this way.” Squirting a line of liquid out of the needle he grasped my upper arm. “Hold still, it won’t hurt.”

  Hold still my ass! Instincts made me thrash around in the chair in an attempt to get away from the syringe. Attempts were done in vain as the Dr plunged the needle into my upper arm and dispensed half of the liquid into my body.

  It only took two minutes before my body went numb and my head lolled to the side. Still conscious, but my eyesight was starting to blur when I heard military-cut yell out for another person, “She’s tame, come remove these restraints and get her into the cell.”

  My vision was dull, I wanted to see who was coming into the room, but all I could see was a rather large shadow. There was that sweet smell again of musk and vanilla. The shadow kneeled by the ankle restraints and muttered some chant in a language that I didn’t recognize and suddenly, my legs were free. Although, I couldn’t move them. He did the same thing with the restraints holding my wrists and then scooped me up like he was carrying a child to bed to carry me to the awaiting prison.

  I tried to focus on his face before my vision completely went black as he laid me as gently as he could on the cot. Oh my God…magic. I could still hear conversations going on when he shut the cell door.

  “I could have just magically immobilized her; you didn’t have to sedate her.” Frustration laced his voice.

  “We didn’t want to take that chance. She’ll come out of it in twenty minutes or so.” the Dr. stated. I could hear metal scraping across the floor.

  Still not able to move enough to sit up, I focus everything I have on listening to what they are saying still hoping to catch any type of clue to my location.

  The gruff voice of Military-cut echo’s in the room, “I’ll make sure she is fed and watered. Don’t want our little cat to get weak, now do we?”

  I can hear heavy boot laden footsteps head toward the door, and it is creaking open as Military-cut leaves. Doesn’t take long before the other two follow and it’s once again quiet. I must have passed out because the next thing I remember is being woken up by the sound of a metal tray being deposited on the cell floor.

  “Dinner time, sweetheart.” came the voice of military-cut. Looking down at the tray it only contained a basic salad, peanut butter, and jelly sandwich, and a bottle of water.

  “This is it? Not even salad dressing – what kind of animals are you people?” as I poke the salad with a fork I sneer.

  Military-cut slams his palms against the bars of the cell, his mouth forming a tight line across his face, “Eat or don’t. Doesn’t matter to me, but that’s all you’re getting.”

  As he’s walking toward the door, he turns looking over his shoulder to add, “You decide, but I will suggest keeping your energy. We have so much planned for you.”

  A shiver ran down my spine as I took a bite of the pb&j. Taking the tray back over to my cot, I sit leaning against the cold cinder-block wall and move the salad around with the fork, lost in my head again. My lynx comes forward wrapping herself around my emotions as if she will protect me from them. I can feel her settle down to wait: ever watchful.

  Not only do I need to find out where I am, but also, how to contact one of the other shifters. Or perhaps I’ll find a weakness in my captors. Until then, my main priority is to stay alive and get the hell out of here.

  Chapter 2

  Peyton

  Walking toward the common room, I can hear voices in a low whisper. I know they are talking about the beautiful shifter that’s locked in the cell room. I’m still in awe of how they brought her in, capturing her instead of killing her was my bright idea.

  I've been away from my Homeland for far too long, sighing deeply, I need some fresh air.

  As I walk past the common room I glance in, I can see the two men chatting and pointing excitedly to paperwork lying out on the table. The Dr thinks the shifter’s blood could be the answer to everything; stronger soldiers, enhanced vision and strength, possibly breeding her with humans to make hybrid beings that can be used as high market income for the military. This place I’m trapped in disgusts me.

  They want to exploit her in every way and it makes me sick to my stomach. The rancid taste of vomit laces my throat as I round the corner to the door. Scanning my badge at the scanner next to the door it pops open and the sweet smell of saltwater hits my nostrils.

  Standing still for a moment and just enjoying the breeze as it hits my face, whispering words of peace and tranquility, I raise it toward the sun. Maybe this will warm my cold, dead soul.

  The heavy door squeaks open. I don’t bother turning around I already know who it is. Then I hear the whiney male voice.

  "Peyton? Hey! Sarge needs you." One of the ass-kissing foot soldiers pokes his head outside.

  I sigh, turning to glare at him; I feel my magic flare to life in my blood, "Dammit! Can't I get just one moment to myself?"

  Darren, the soldier, sneers back with lines pinching his otherwise handsome face, "You do as you're told." He swiftly closes the door behind him before I can summon any type of response.

  For just a moment my eyes focus on the ground at my feet and I am back at home where there is love, honor, and family; for just a moment…

  Collecting my thoughts, I wonder what the hell they want now. Frustration fuels every step I take back inside the compound and to the same common room where I last saw them.

  Assuming a blank face as I entered the room, I placed my hands behind my back in very loose parade rest, "How can I be of service?"

  Caden, also known as Sarge by the men here, taps his fingers on the table in an irritated manner, "It took you long enough.” he barked. “We are gonna need you to whip up more of those bombs that identify the shifters."

  Caden is your typical ex-military type, standing about six-foot-tall with a standard-issue military-cut and attitude to match. His face has seen better days with a scar that extends from the top of his forehead down over his left eye and ends right in the middle of his cheek.

  Circling to the other side of the table, I extend my arm wiggling my fingers to bring the paperwork they were gawking at over to me. I love the look on their faces when I do shit like that. "This looks like locations marked on a map, am I correct in assuming you have more targets in mind?"

  Dr. Scinerden, also known as just Dr, scurried around the room excitedly. Like a mouse who ju
st caught wind of cheese on the other side of the maze.

  "Yes, yes, a group of paranormal are somewhere here," he said pointing to one of the marks in northern Virginia, "We got a lead on them this morning."

  Dr. Scinerden was what you’d expect in a ‘we are going to take over the world’, Doctor. Short and pudgy with a balding head and glasses perched on his thin, pointy nose hiding his beady dark brown eyes. The little man’s ‘I am in charge’ attitude gets on my nerves.

  The ice that courses through my veins starts to tingle at the request. These bombs are demanding that I produce, takes a lot of time and effort to make them right. I have created two different ones for the hunters; the first one to let them know when an animal is a shifter by illuminating them with a sort of sparkle – it also has a slowdown effect on the shifter to give the hunters enough time to fire off an arrow or bolt. The second bomb, if the target tries to get away, will give them a path to follow if they release it within fifty feet of the retreat.

  Neither of these magical spells will harm the shifter or animal, as that is not my intent. I hate what I have to do for them, but I have no choice. It’s bad enough that I am indebted to them for my lifetime – which is very long, by the way. The hunters, however, would rather kill supernatural creatures on sight. Being of the supernatural variety myself, I tend to disagree with their methods.

  Shaking my head, frustrated at their excitement I ask, “What type of shifters?”

  Caden crosses his hefty arms over his chest, “How is that any of your concern?”

  Standing up straight and stretching my arms wide to each side to show how important it is I reply, “It’s very much my concern if I am to know what type of magic to use. Unless of course, you want me to just slap anything together and hope for the best? It wouldn’t make you work too much harder to kill them.”

  My scathing remark hit the target. Caden, keeping his massive arms over his chest, widened his defensive stance as if he knew I could blow him away at any given moment, “We were told, Bears.” he said quietly. “A whole pack of them, aging in range from very young to very old.”