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city,” Jordan said.
    Monica laughed, and he discovered how much he liked the sound of it. “Not that kind of cougar. My point is, it might’ve been someone’s pet that got too big or some kind of inbred cougar that managed to thrive in the urban environment. People had been reporting sightings of it for months before the Crew came in and was able to trap it. But first we had to prove it existed.”
    â€œA cougar is still a real animal.”
    â€œYes. But there are things in the world we don’t know or understand, whether you want to believe it or not. And they’re animals, too. People can’t turn into something else. No vampires, no zombies, no werewolves. There are monsters, but they’re not human.”
    Not human.
    Monica drew herself up and visibly shook herself. “Look, I’m here to do a job, so let me get on with it, okay? What’s on the other side of this wall?”
    â€œBayou.”
    â€œI guess that goes without saying,” she said. “Dumb question, sorry.”
    â€œDiNero put a lot of money into draining his land. Lots of money into landscaping. You wouldn’t know there’s anything out there besides more grass, I guess.” Jordan tried to shrug off her words, but they clung to him, making his skin itch.
    â€œI’ve never been to Louisiana before, if you can believe it.” She gave him a small smile and another of those neutral but somehow assessing looks. She turned back to the wall, then glanced at him over her shoulder. “Can you take me over the wall? I want to see the other side.”
    Jordan paused. “Yeah. I guess so.”
    They spent the rest of the day that way. He took her outside the gates and showed her the places that had been compromised. She collected scrapings of the bricks. The soil. The water. She didn’t tell him what she was looking for, and Jordan didn’t ask. When finally she was satisfied, he brought her back inside. They’d shared scarcely more than a few words, which normally would’ve been perfect, except that the longer she went without paying attention to him, the more disconcerting he found it. They’d been driving in one of the estate’s golf carts, so he pulled up into the small space between their bungalows and waited for her to get out.
    What the hell kind of woman seduced a man and then proceeded to ignore him as if they’d never been naked and sweating and...
    â€œThanks,” Monica said.
    Jordan shrugged, stone-faced. “It’s my job.”
    â€œNot everything you did was part of your job,” she said. When he didn’t answer her, she gave him another enigmatic smile and got out of the golf cart. “See you later.”
    He watched her go, waiting to see if she’d turn back. She didn’t. But he was suddenly so damned hard it hurt to move. It made his hands shake, so he clenched them into fists on his thighs, but the hunger didn’t abate. It rose within him, something fierce and unyielding, until all he could think about, all he could do, was get out of the golf cart and force himself to put on a pair of running shorts and go for a run.
    Run. And run. And run.
    By the time he got back, night had fallen. Golden light welcomed him from the windows of her bungalow, while his were cold and dark. Breathing hard, the coiled snake of hunger still hissing in his belly but low and quieter, Jordan paused to bend over and spit into the grass.
    Her door opened. Her silhouette made him groan. She took a step onto the patio and was followed by the waft of something warm and delicious. His stomach growled.
    Not human , he thought.
    â€œI made dinner,” Monica said. “Come inside.”

CHAPTER 7
    S he’d begged supplies from the main house, despite the cook’s assurances she didn’t need to make her own dinner. But Monica liked to cook. It helped her think. While chopping and slicing and sautéing, she could let her