First, she needed to find Amanda. The panther put her nose to work.

Iona found nothing alive on this floor but herself, Cassidy, a few nests of field mice, and some scuttling roaches. At least it was too cold for snakes and scorpions right now. In summer, this place was probably infested.

The vision of baby Amanda with insects crawling all over her spurred her on. Infants were fragile, and Amanda would need warmth, protection, food. Were their captors giving her that? Or was it already too late?

Iona forced such thoughts away. Focus. Find her.

Eric, please come. We need you.

Even thinking about Eric made Iona feel better. His name twined around her heart, giving her strength and comfort.

At the end of a hall was a door, unlocked, which led to a stairwell. Iona shifted to her in-between beast to open it, then stayed the half beast as she ducked inside and tested the stairwell’s scents.

The stairs led down at least three floors, Iona thought, maybe more, and upward, maybe two or three. Iona stood there a long time in the darkness, trying to decide which direction was best. Upstairs might lead to light and a way out. Or she already might be on an upper floor, and upward would only take her to a roof.

At least she’d see where she was if she found the roof, she reasoned, but another sniff made her change her mind. From the lower floors, she scented life, and it smelled fetid.

Rescuing Amanda was the first priority. Iona remained her half beast and moved quietly down the stairs.

She found that there were a total of five floors below her. The first level down was pitch-dark, and she smelled nothing there. Nothing on the next floor either, though the scent grew stronger, and she realized that it was coming from the bottom of the stairs.

Iona continued down, opening the last door on the stairwell very softly. As soon as she was through, she flowed back to her panther and moved in silence.

No lights shone down here, and the smell from the walls was more earthy—definitely underground. The corridor off the stairwell was short and ended in a door that opened, unlocked, into a wide space.

Iona couldn’t see what was in that space as she slipped inside, opening the door only enough for her wildcat to slither through. She stopped, waiting to let her panther’s eyes adjust.

Gradually, she saw the dim forms of square pillars, as though people had removed walls down here but left supporting posts. Or perhaps this had once been a loading dock, garage, or storage area. It was empty now, the silence and cold vast.

The scent came from about halfway down the room. Iona slunk that way, her hackles up, paws making no noise on the cement floor. Against the wall, she found the cages.

She remembered Jace explaining how he’d seen jeeps taking cages to the desert compound. Whether these were the same cages, Iona had no way of knowing, and Eric said he hadn’t found them all when he’d gone in to rescue the wolves.

These cages were about five feet tall and three wide, a few of them six or so feet high. Large enough to contain Shifters, but even these cages would make for tight fits, especially to the larger Shifters, like bears or the bigger wildcats.

But what better way to keep a Shifter penned than give him or her barely enough room to turn around?

Or, Iona thought, a chill stealing through her, they were for smaller Shifters. The young.

She counted more than twenty cages stretching in front of her. She went down the line, the scent of animal growing stronger as she walked.

Each cage Iona passed was empty, until she came to the cage at the end.

This was one was about seven feet high, had thicker walls. The bars that closed it were at least six inches in diameter. Behind those bars was a snarl and a smell.

Iona backed away, her fur standing straight up, growls coming from her throat. She wanted to lie flat on her belly in a stalking-cat slink, teeth ready to rip out the throat of whatever was behind those bars.

The beast inside the cage growled in return. Iona saw eyes in the darkness, yellow with rage. The Shifter smell was strong but not quite right.

Iona forced her panther to calm. Whoever was in the cage was a Shifter, trapped, taken against its will. She should help it, not fear it.

But the waves of emotion that emanated from the cage had Iona’s defensive instincts roaring. She shifted back to her in-between beast, the shift a little slower and more painful this time.

“It’s all right,” she said, her voice the guttural one of the beast. “Who are you? I can help you.”

Another snarl of pure, aggressive rage. The yellow eyes flashed red and a body slammed into the bars of the cage.

Iona jumped back, but the cage held, which seemed to enrage the creature even more. It pressed its face to the bars and glared out at her.

Tiger.

Iona stared at the animal in surprise. Feline Shifters could be any wildcat or a combination of wildcats, each family tending toward the traits of one more than the others. Iona’s father obviously had a lot of panther in him; Eric’s family, snow leopard.

While in Shiftertown, Iona had met Felines whose wildcats resembled lions, lynxes, pumas, and one family of cheetahs, but no tigers. Cassidy sometimes looked after an orphaned cub who was a white tiger, but he was the only one.

This Shifter was a Bengal, orange and black striped, and gigantic. His scent was overwhelmingly male. No Collar gleamed around the tiger’s neck, and his eyes held madness.

He’d gone feral.

Iona stared at him in horror, finally realizing what Eric had been trying to tell her would happen to her if she didn’t control the beast within her. This was what he meant.

Crazed, furious, out of control, dangerous to herself and everyone around her.

Looking at the feral tiger in the cage, the untamed beast inside Iona tasted a tang of his madness and liked it.

Iona quickly shifted fully to human. “Who are you?” she asked again. “Did they capture you? Why don’t you have a Collar?”

The tiger’s face distorted, nose receding, eyes growing more human, but the Shifter settled into his half man, half beast form. “Let me out.”

The pheromone scent that came to her was loud and clear. Crap. He was an uncontrolled Shifter male facing a female who’d recently entered her mating years and was a bit wild with the mating heat. He wanted her.

Iona took a few steps back. “And have you jump my bones? No, thank you. I smell what you want to do.”

“I smell it on you. You want to mate. You want cubs.”

“I have a mate. He’s the leader of the Shifters. He’ll help you.”