Most would have bundled up in their cable-knit sweaters or donned coats to prevent the chill from overtaking them. Tiger shifters had no such worries. Their blood ran warmer than humans’ did. Dax rubbed his palms across Zhara’s suitcase and worried about what she wore. No doubt she’d spent an evening chilled. Hopefully she purchased more suitable wear by now. Visions of her shivering and miserable out somewhere in town drove him insane. Thoughts of her anything but happy, comfortable, and safe bothered him. He’d connected with her last night, but couldn’t get a fix on where she’d been. He’d assumed the lodge in town, but no record placed her there. He hated dragging Fin with him, especially since the ass had pretty much caused the blow-up between him and Zhara in the first place. But Fin knew all the new places and made far more contacts than Dax did as a result. “I’m assuming she’s still not answering her cell?” When he nodded no, Fin asked, “You ready to head out?”
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