Renee's Mates

by Shelley Munro

  Word on the street—Renee was a dead woman walking.

  Some way, somehow, he and his brothers had to save her from the same fate as Hunter.

  9 – The Big Fall

  Renee jogged up the steps leading into the office. She opened the door and strode inside.

  “You look bright and chirpy today,” Janet said.

  “Had an early night.” Renee had no intention of giving the office gossip extra fodder, but she’d slept better than she had in months. The Taktuq brothers were good for her. Pity they intended to leave. She shoved aside the shaft of pain that struck her without warning. She liked them way more than she should, and them leaving would hurt.

  “Rumor says you had dinner out with the Taktuq brothers.” Janet watched her like an owl intent on dinner.

  “I met them as they were going in and we decided to eat together.” Sort of true. “What do you have for me today?”

  “First up is a run out to the Hallsten brothers’ lodge. One of the interior decorators wants to take measurements before she orders tiles.”

  “What time will she arrive?” Huh, the place had appeared finished to her, but what did she know?

  “Any time now,” Janet confirmed.

  “Okay, holler when she arrives and has completed the safety talk.”

  That was the start of her busy day. She spent ten minutes securing the woman’s bags of equipment inside the helicopter, utilizing the spare seats since the three bags wouldn’t fit in the fuselage hold. Friendly and vivacious in her scarlet coat, the woman oversaw the loading as if her samples were children. Renee supposed, given the isolation of Churchill, the samples couldn’t be easily replaced and strove for patience.

  After the delay, she flew the interior decorator to the lodge and left her there with her bags of samples and equipment. Two loads of tourists oohed and aahed over the polar bears she pointed out to them plus the red fox that scampered across the tundra. During the afternoon, she flew two scientists out to a remote cabin. They intended to spend a week there while researching the flora and fauna, which meant she struggled to load their equipment too.

  “The weather reports are saying a storm is heading this way and will strike at the end of this week,” Renee said.

  The head scientist tugged on his straggly gray beard. “Yes, when I checked before we left it looked as if the weather might deteriorate sooner than that. Maybe even tonight. We’ll be fine for a few days though. We have plenty of supplies.”

  “You have a way of contacting the office?” Renee asked. Personally, she’d prefer a warm bed, preferably with one of the Taktuq brothers. She grinned. One or more of the brothers.

  “We have a satellite phone. We’ll be checking in every day,” the scientist assured her.

  “Good.” Renee checked her helicopter and as usual, she found missed items belonging to the scientists. Shaking her head at their absentmindedness, she delivered the forgotten bag to the cabin before contacting the office.

  “Janet, I’ve delivered the scientists to their cabin, and I’m heading back to base.”

  “Can you swing by the Hallsten lodge to pick up that interior decorator? Tim was meant to collect her, but she contacted us to say she wanted to spend longer at the lodge. He’s out on his last flight with another group of tourists.”

  “Sure, I have enough fuel. Tell her I can be there in forty-five minutes,” Renee said.

  She took off, enjoying being the sole passenger for a change. Her mind drifted to Calian, the twins Dakota and Kansas and the youngest brother, Matto. Somehow, she’d found herself in a relationship. At least it seemed that way to her. The brothers made sure she ate, they made certain she slept, and they worried about her safety, even though they’d initially come to Churchill for more nefarious purposes. She hoped they believed her about Hunter. She hadn’t lied.

  As she flew over a ridge, wind buffeted her chopper. Renee frowned at the sullen sky—a strange gray that promised snow. She spotted the lodge through the gloom and hoped Maggie, the woman she’d dropped earlier, was ready to leave. Renee hated abrupt weather changes.

  During her approach, Renee scanned the area around the lodge, searching for Maggie’s scarlet coat. Drat the woman. She’d drag her feet and expect Renee to lug her bags of samples to the chopper.

  Renee flew closer, still not seeing the interior decorator. The woman must’ve heard the chopper. Renee skimmed over the top of the clump of trees and made the approach to the landing pad. Her chopper swayed and fought her control more than normal in the gusty wind.

  Splat. Splat. Splat.

  Something slammed into the side of her chopper, close to her head.

  Renee cursed. Checked her instruments. Everything was normal.

  Splat. Splat. Splat.

  She was taking fire!

  Instinct had Renee lifting her helicopter in a rapid climb. More gunfire. Her bird hovered, unresponsive to her controls. The helicopter went into a spin. Renee gripped her controls. Control the spin. Bullets bombarded the cab.

  “Come on. Come on!”

  The copter continued to spin, but she cleared the ridge and increased the distance between her and the shooter. For a few minutes, she thought she might make it, keep her chopper in the sky. But the wind was stronger here. It caught her bird, flung her right, and she dropped. Her tail rotor failed to respond.

  Fuel.

  Goddammit. The sharp tang filled her nostrils.

  Renee fought to remain airborne, to halt the spin.

  Another gust of wind flung her chopper left.

  The skids whacked against a tree. Damn, she was too low. Her copter spun again. Hit a tree. A branch shoved against her side. The entire helicopter shuddered away from the tree. Alarms sounded. The ground was close. Too close.

  Renee kept fighting even though she knew it was a lost cause.

  Her helicopter smashed into a bank of snow. Her head thumped against the back of her seat and snapped forward to hit the window. Then everything went black.

  10 – Where Is Renee?

  Matto stalked toward the heliport, eagerness giving his steps a spring, despite the wail of the wind and the gathering darkness. Renee. He’d thought about her all day, and he suspected she lingered on his brothers’ minds too since none of them had gotten through as much of their planning as they’d intended. He jogged up the three front steps and burst through the doorway of the office.

  Immediately, the back of his neck prickled. His wolf, which had become more active since Calian had forced them into daily runs, stilled then rumbled a growl. The warning sound must’ve bled free because the two men in a huddle with the receptionist sprang around. One was a pilot. Tim, the Australian, from memory. The other was an older man with salt-and-pepper hair and a close-trimmed beard.

  “Where’s Renee?”

  The three shared a quick glance.

  “She is still out on a run,” the receptionist said.

  Something in her voice, the sliver of fear, of concern bled through enough for his wolf to growl again.

  “The truth this time,” Matto demanded. “Where is Renee?”

  The bearded man jumped into the fray. “She is picking up a passenger from the Hallsten Lodge.”

  Truth, but neither he nor his wolf approved of the answer. “Renee told me you seldom fly at night.”

  “While that’s true, we offer night flights to some passengers,” the man replied. “Renee will arrive back any time now.”

  “Are you in contact with her? She was expecting me or one of my brothers to meet her.” Matto observed their reactions and uneasiness writhed through his gut.

  The receptionist winced while the men remained impassive.

  “What has happened?” Matto asked, their silence leaving a sour taste in their mouth. When not one of the three answered, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Calian, I need you and the twins at the heliport. Something is up with Renee.”

  “There is no need to panic,” the man with the beard said. “She i
s only half an hour overdue. I’m sure she’ll arrive soon. The storm has come in quicker than predicted.”

  “Have you contacted her?” Matto demanded.

  The door burst open and his brothers poured into the reception area.

  “What is it?” Kansas demanded. “Is Renee hurt?”

  “She is overdue.” Matto focused on the bearded man. “Have you spoken with Renee?”

  “There is no reply,” the man whispered.

  Calian bristled beside Matto. “Have you called the authorities?”

  “It’s too early yet. We have a protocol.” An air of apology filled the man’s words.

  Matto got this. She was half an hour late. That might mean nothing. The fact that the communication was down might be due to the storm. Or it could be something worse.

  “Tell us about your protocol,” Calian ordered.

  “Tell them,” Tim said. “Renee is never late, and it makes little sense the communications are down. That is my opinion as a pilot.”

  “We wait for an hour before we report to the RCMP. Unfortunately, with the upcoming storm and the time of the day, we can’t do much. There’s no point risking lives,” Tim’s male co-worker said.

  “Who was the passenger?” Dakota asked.

  “We don’t divulge passenger details,” the man said, his voice close to prissy.

  “You mentioned Renee was doing a pickup from the Hallsten Lodge?” At Tim’s nod, Matto turned to Calian. “We’ll hunt down the Hallstens. Once they understand our concern, they’ll give us details.”

  “Do you have paper?” Dakota asked.

  The receptionist handed him a scrap pad.

  Dakota scrawled his contact number. “Please call if you learn anything. We’re Renee’s family.”

  “She never told us,” Tim countered.

  “Renee is a private person,” Dakota explained. “She keeps things to herself.”

  Tim nodded. “That’s true.”

  Matto tromped from the heliport reception into the cold bluster of the storm. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t like it,” Calian said. “I know the storm complicates flying, but Renee is an expert. You saw the way she handled the helicopter. She’s a natural flyer. Matto, your idea to check with the Hallsten brothers is a good one.”

  “I’ll try Renee’s cell phone, just in case she’s near,” Kansas said.

  Calian was already ringing one of the Hallsten brothers. “It’s Calian Taktuq. Renee flew an interior designer out to your lodge this morning. She’s late back and the heliport can’t contact her. Wait…what? Okay. I don’t know. Thanks.” He ended the call and shoved his phone into his jacket pocket. “He told me they intended to finish the remaining tasks themselves. They had no contractors there today.”

  They exchanged a concerned glance.

  “Vega?” Matto asked.

  Calian didn’t answer but stormed back into the heliport. “The Hallsten brothers didn’t have a contractor at the lodge. Who was the passenger? Male or female?”

  The bearded man blinked, his jaw dropping at the disclosure.

  “Did they have bags with them?” Matto demanded.

  “No contractors today? Are you certain?” the man asked.

  “I’ve just spoken to Sax Hallsten. They are doing the final finishing themselves and don’t require further help from contractors. The last one returned to Winnipeg on Monday,” Calian replied.

  “It was a young woman. She spoke with confidence and didn’t give the appearance of a liar.” The older man glanced at the receptionist as if seeking backup.

  “What was her name?” Calian asked.

  “Maggie Hutchins,” the receptionist said. “She booked the flight last week via phone.” She paused and stroked her chin. “Come to think of it, she did request a female pilot if we had one. Implied she’d be more comfortable flying into the wilderness with another woman. She made her request sound normal.”

  Kansas scowled. “Age?”

  “How long has she been in Churchill?” Dakota asked.

  “Where was she staying?” Matto barked.

  “We don’t require those details,” the bearded man said.

  “How did she pay?” Calian asked.

  “In cash,” the receptionist replied. “Most clients pay via credit card, but she told me her last customer had paid in cash and she was pleased to get rid of it instead of carting it around because she hadn’t had time to get to the bank.”

  Calian shifted his weight. “Description?”

  “About my height. Blonde. She wore a bright red coat, big sunglasses, and a beanie. That’s about all I remember. She was friendly and chatty about her work, but she didn’t wait for long before Renee flew her out to the lodge.

  “Renee returned to base, did two tourist runs and took two scientists out to a remote cabin. I called her on the way back and asked her to stop by the lodge to pick up the woman. Tim was scheduled to do it but the woman wanted to stay longer, told me she needed at the least another half hour. A group of tourists came in at the last minute, and Tim took them instead.”

  It sounded to Matto as if the woman had maneuvered the receptionist. She’d discovered Renee had to take out the scientists and had planned her day accordingly.

  “Crap,” Kansas said, summing up Matto’s thoughts exactly.

  Not a single part of this story filled him with confidence.

  “Let’s go,” Calian said. “You have Dakota’s number. Please call if you hear anything.”

  They followed Calian outside.

  Matto’s wolf growled, and Calian halted abruptly in front of him. His older brother whirled, grabbed his upper arm and exerted pressure. “Quit that,” he snapped. “Control your wolf.”

  His wolf subsided with a whimper. “Sorry,” Matto said. “I didn’t realize I was broadcasting so loud. What are we going to do? This woman sounds fishy.”

  “She is.” Calian grunted. “Vega’s favorite assassin is a woman. My contact told me this assassin goes by the name Maggie. He didn’t know her entire name or if Maggie was an alias. Not much is known about her, but she’s an expert with disguises.”

  “What’s our plan?” Dakota asked.

  Kansas, with his usual lack of tact, verbalized what they were all thinking. “What if we’re too late?”

  “The storm is getting worse, but our sense of direction should suffice. I say we shift to wolf and go to find Renee,” Calian said.

  “It’s a bloody long way to the lodge,” Kansas commented.

  “I’m in,” Matto said. “I can’t sit here and do nothing. It sounds as if the locals won’t call for a search party until at least morning, and even then, they’ll wait for the storm to pass.”

  Dakota nodded. “I agree with Matto. The idea of hanging here while Renee is in danger… No, I’m all for a private search.”

  “You think we can do this, Calian?” Kansas asked.

  “If we stick together as a pack. We’d better stop by to see Sax and his brothers. Tell them what we’re doing.”

  “The polar bear shifters aren’t fans of wolves,” Kansas said. “Apart from the Hallstens, they’ve kept their distance.”

  “That’s why we’re letting Sax in on our plan,” Calian said.

  Matto frowned. “Renee will see us in our wolf forms.”

  “We’ll explain if we need to. I’d rather ensure Renee’s safety than worry about her exposure to our wolves,” Calian said. “We’ll sort that out later.”

  They left their clothes at the Hallstens’. Kendall Essex, the Hallstens’ mate, helped them fashion a bag to carry a satellite phone and a tracker beacon. Hopefully, the two plastic bags plus the waterproof pack strapped to Calian’s belly would keep out the moisture.

  Big drops of snow fell from the sky as they trotted out of town. Wind swirled the flakes, sending them dancing across the sky. Once they reached the lodge, Sax told them they’d have access to food, and a First-Aid kit, but until then, it was just them and the elements.
/>
  Four to five hours of an icy hell.

  Matto prayed they had enough time to get to Renee.

  He prayed she wasn’t already dead.

  11 – It Starts To Make Sense

  A groan echoed, setting painful spikes jabbing at Renee’s temples. She attempted to move, her arm protesting the action. She blinked and even that hurt. Something dripped down her face, and she struggled to make sense of her situation. Her brow wrinkled.

  Frigid air tugged at her jacket.

  Her head turned a fraction. The door of her chopper. It was gone.

  She’d crashed.

  She remembered…

  The woman in the red coat—she’d fired a gun at Renee.

  Her chopper had crashed.

  Renee searched her surroundings, forcing herself to examine the shadows.

  Darkness surrounded her, the cry of the wind sending a shiver down her limbs. Above her, something rustled. A tree? Or something else?

  Labored breathing filled the air. It didn’t belong to her. She swallowed, cold fingers of sweat prickling her torso. Renee fought with her seat harness, the burning of her biceps rendering her left arm next to useless.

  Gritting her teeth, she struggled with her right arm. Lifting it hurt just as much, her ineffectual jabbing at the release mechanism not doing a thing.

  A gamey scent filled her shallow breaths, and with a heavy stomach, she turned her head. Her eyes widened on recognizing the new arrival.

  A polar bear.

  Her heart tried to burrow through her rib cage as she held her breath, not daring to budge.

  The giant beast thrust its head close and snuffled. Renee gasped, her pulse racing at double-time. She took in the black nose, its blue eyes and small ears. The bear stared right back. It snuffled again and inched closer. Sharp white teeth filled her vision. A scream built in her chest, the pressure immense, yet the cry refused to crawl up her throat and burst free.

  The bear lifted a huge front paw and swiped at her seat harness. A whimper escaped her, and she realized how much she wanted to live. The bear repeated the move, tearing at the harness, but somehow missing her flesh. Without warning, the harness gave way, and she tumbled forward.