Renee's Mates

by Shelley Munro

  Before she could regain her balance, the bear grasped her arm and hauled her from the cab.

  She cried out, and the bear growled, releasing her once she hit the snow-covered ground.

  Her heart hammered as she stared at the bear. Instead of attacking, the bear padded over to the helicopter and pushed its way inside.

  With her gaze on the bear’s hindquarters, she took stock of her injuries. Her left arm throbbed with the nagging intensity of an aching tooth. She tried to put weight on it and almost howled at the white-hot thrust of pain.

  Where the devil was she? A decent length of time must’ve passed because full darkness had fallen. She shivered, wetness seeping through her navy pants.

  That woman. Maggie of the red coat.

  She’d had a gun.

  She’d shot at the helicopter.

  A chuffing sound came from the bear, and it backed from the helicopter, dragging the First-Aid kit. It dropped the kit beside her while she froze, petrified to make a wrong move. The animal scanned the surrounding terrain before turning its attention back to her. That blue gaze freaked her out—the glint of intelligence.

  Without warning, the bear’s head lifted. His nose twitched and his chest expanded. He cocked his ear and chuffed, the harsh expel alarming Renee.

  A second chuff had another layer of goosebumps scuttling across her arms and legs to join the ones caused by cold. Every instinct told her to close down, to hide from her fate. But stubborn pride, her determination to survive had her trying to crawl. A whimper escaped, and she froze, breathing deep to ride out the pain.

  Her legs hurt. Her arms throbbed. Her head thumped.

  Her entire torso ached like one humongous bruise.

  Leaving—no, impossible.

  Her gaze returned to the bear. His blue eyes were trained on her. He grunted, cocking his head as if he were listening to something again. He bared his teeth.

  Sharp. Yellow.

  His ribs stuck out on his sides. He’d be hungry, going for months without food and waiting for the Hudson Bay to freeze over.

  Why didn’t he eat her now? Get it over with.

  Renee edged away and tears spilled free. She gritted her teeth. At least the nagging pain might stop then.

  He shifted his weight from his front right paw to his left. If he’d been human, Renee might accuse him of dithering.

  Without warning, he lumbered away, soon lost in the gloom.

  Renee burst into action, fingers fumbling at the First-Aid kit. She needed the survival blanket before she froze. And the radio in the chopper. Did it still work?

  Maybe not in this storm.

  In a piece of luck, her chopper had gone down in a sheltered spot, but the wind whistled above the surrounding trees. Snowflakes drifted through the canopy, leaving a white tinge on the ground.

  Renee gathered the courage to crawl for the radio. One more breath.

  She forced her limbs to move and cried out.

  “I heard you. I’m coming to get you Renee Paulson!” The harsh feminine voice floated on the wind. “Prepare to die, if you’re not already dead.”

  It was a jolt to hear her real name screamed across the tundra. Renee stilled, the gunfire, the woman in the red coat making more sense.

  An assassin.

  But why hadn’t she killed her during the flight to the lodge?

  An answer popped into Renee’s mind. Daylight. Loss of communication to base. Someone might have located her. The woman had required darkness to complete her job, although how had she expected to leave? No doubt, the woman had a plan, and meantime, she was toying with Renee. She knew Renee had crashed, and now she wanted her terrified.

  Maggie’s plan was working.

  Panic rushed through Renee again. A helicopter crash. A polar bear. A crazed assassin. Odds were good she’d meet with Hunter sooner than later. She’d tell him about his son. Perhaps she’d tell him about his son’s hot uncles.

  “Fuck, I hate snow!” the woman shouted. “I hope you’re still alive, Renee Paulson. I want to slit your throat for making me suffer through this bloody cold.”

  The woman was closer now.

  Too close.

  12 – The Taktuqs Take To The Tundra

  Calian forged his way across the Arctic landscape, and his brothers followed in single file. Instinct, passed down from his ancestors, guided him across the tundra while fear and desperation drove his speed.

  An hour passed. Two.

  He slowed, his sides heaving.

  A rest. They’d become city boys. While he possessed the reserves to continue, his brothers required a break.

  He halted, and his brothers did the same. Calian let out a whine and nuzzled each of his brothers, checking on their health. To his relief, each of them appeared fine. Fatigued, yes, but he glimpsed determination too. Pride rose in him.

  Matto grunted. An inquiry.

  In answer, Calian found a spot, sheltered from the worst of the snow and wind and curled in a ball. His brothers got the message and heaped around him. A short rest before they continued their journey.

  Renee, please be okay. We’re coming for you. Calian’s last waking thought as he fell into an exhausted sleep.

  On the move again, Kanas trotted after Calian. His paws hurt and the quick nap hadn’t been long enough. When they returned to the city, he intended to listen to Calian. Since he’d started shifting on a more regular basis, the connection to his wolf had strengthened, the link growing stronger to his heritage.

  But not fit.

  If this wasn’t so urgent, he might have planted his butt in the snow, thrown back his head and howled in frustration.

  Behind him, Dakota yipped.

  Dakota’s exhaustion ricocheted through their twin bond, but also his determination and love for Renee. His twin’s emotions echoed his own, so he kept putting one paw in front of the other, kept following Calian, kept up the relentless journey to reach Renee.

  His big heart squeezed as he thought of her, the sensation bouncing back to his mind from Dakota.

  The twin factor.

  Renee. Since they’d met her, his wolf and human sides joined and connected with synergy. While he’d never considered sharing a woman with his brothers, Renee brought them together, made his ties to Calian and Matto closer. Dakota too.

  Renee, hold on. We’re coming for you. Kansas shoved aside his fatigue and kept pushing his weary body onward.

  Thoughts of Renee filled Dakota’s mind as he trailed Calian and Kansas. Weird how they’d automatically arranged their single file in age order. Exhaustion pushed at the edges of his mind, his limbs moving on automatic because if he thought about the process of running too much, he might stumble and fall.

  Renee.

  The unexpected joy he’d experienced on meeting her had grown with the physical expression of passion. No. It was love. His heart did a slow pulse at the idea of Renee lying someplace, helpless in the snow. She was alive.

  Certainty kept him mobile.

  No matter what Misty’s reaction or how she responded when she learned of their involvement with Renee, he refused to turn away. For Renee, he’d face his sister’s temper. Kansas would do the same—he sensed his twin’s determination through their bond. They’d all placed their mark on Renee—some of them more than others. They’d linked themselves to her, and he didn’t regret the tie to the human woman, not when the rightness of the action pulsed through his mind.

  Dakota kept moving for the next hour, the tundra growing increasingly white with the unrelenting snow and more difficult to navigate. His confidence in his oldest brother’s navigation didn’t falter. Calian had always kept in contact with his wolf. He’d get them to Renee, and he and Kansas with their twin bond would help her heal.

  Stay strong, Renee. We love you, and we’re coming. Stay strong.

  Matto had it easier, following in the footsteps of his older brothers. Ahead, Kansas and Dakota struggled, their fitness levels not as high as Calian’s. Matto embraced t
he meaning of his name. Brave warrior. He maintained the fierce pace, set by Calian, his love of running and rugby helping him to keep up without difficulty.

  He noted their surroundings. The stunted trees, looming like gray wraiths in the dark. The frozen lakes, some shallow that they splashed through and others deeper that Calian skirted. The rocks. The first three hours of their journey was across flattish land with minimal plants. Now, as they edged into the final part of their run, the panorama turned into undulating ground. The wind whistled over the ridges, blowing snow into drifts. Some they avoided while others they waded through of necessity.

  Calian led them unerringly toward the lodge, the starting point in their systematic search.

  Renee. Her name pounded through his soul. Renee. Renee.

  For this woman, he’d do anything. His brothers, the same.

  They’d claimed her, and they were coming for their mate.

  13 – On The Trail Of Renee

  “Where are you, Samantha? I hate the cold. I hate the snow. And I hate you for making me come to this godforsaken place.”

  The assassin sounded closer, her mood increasingly grumpier. Hide or try to find a weapon?

  Weapon. If the assassin didn’t finish her off, the polar bear might. She still couldn’t figure out why the bear had left, why her limbs remained intact. Where had this extra jacket come from?

  And more troubling, had she hallucinated? She was almost certain the bear had turned into a man, yet when she’d managed to turn her head all she’d seen was a bear.

  Renee bit back the agony racking her limbs and crawled across the uneven ground toward the helicopter. Each chopper came equipped with a pistol for use in emergencies. If she reached that, she’d have surprise on her side.

  Her chopper lay in several pieces. It hadn’t burst into flames, but she smelled fuel. When her shots at Renee had missed, the assassin had struck her tail rotor. A lucky shot had downed her chopper.

  A menacing growl rippled across the clearing.

  Renee froze.

  A shot fired.

  A blood-curdling scream rippled through the air. Another savage growl. An equally terrifying scream that cut short.

  Then nothing but silence.

  Renee groaned and attempted to shift her bodyweight to a more comfortable position. She listened for the assassin’s next move. She listened for the bear.

  She heard nothing, and that was the worst of all.

  * * * * *

  Calian spotted the lodge through the fall of snow and released a yip of encouragement. Sax had told him to eat from the stores in the kitchen and try to get a call back via the satellite phone to let the Hallsten brothers know that they’d made it that far.

  He doubted he’d make contact in this white-out. The weather had grown increasingly worse as they traveled. After leading his brothers to the rear door, he shifted to open the lodge. They needed to start a fire to warm up and to heat soup or canned meat stew. Maybe both since they’d burned through a lot of reserves during the run here. Part of him was still amazed his younger brothers had gone the distance.

  In the kitchen, he crouched in front of the potbelly stove, thankful to the thoughtful person who’d left the fire ready to start. His fingers trembled as he lit a match, but soon the flame caught and, reassured the fire would go, he turned to his brothers.

  Sax had suggested he switch on the generator. He’d do that in a minute.

  Kansas and Dakota appeared the worst, their faces gray with fatigue. Matto didn’t look as if he’d run all those miles. His youngest brother’s eyes sparkled and a healthy tinge colored his cheeks. His bright gaze told Calian that Matto had more miles in him yet.

  Calian poured glasses of water for the twins first. “Drink this slowly. Don’t guzzle or you’ll vomit it back up.”

  After handing Matto a water, he drank one too, then examined the cans. The meat stew would work best. More sustenance to replace their lost energy. He found a can opener and dumped the contents of all six cans into a pot.

  “Here’s a plan.” He studied the twins with concern. They’d need to rest before they had any chance of helping to heal Renee.

  If she was still alive…

  No, wouldn’t he and his brothers sense if Renee had died in the crash?

  “Calian,” Matto said in a raspy voice. “What just ran through your mind?”

  “Renee,” Calian replied. “If her helicopter crashed, or the assassin got her, we’d know, wouldn’t we? I nipped her throat a couple of times. It was hard not to. I came close to marking her properly.”

  “She’s not dead,” Kansas stated.

  “Misty knew when Hunter died. Remember her frantic call to us?” Dakota said.

  The rich scent of the heating stew had Calian’s stomach rumbling. He checked the pot and its contents. Warm enough. He spooned food into bowls and handed the stew to his brothers. “That’s what is keeping me going.”

  “Your plan?” Matto prompted.

  “We split up and communicate with howling.”

  “No, look at this logically. Sax told us the scientists are further north. Renee would’ve flown toward this lodge from the north,” Matto said. “It makes sense the assassin would set up and shoot at Renee as she landed. What would Renee do? She’s a trained soldier. No fear to paralyze her thoughts. She’d react instinctively, get her helicopter higher and fly toward the trees in that direction. Once she cleared the trees, she’d make the assassin’s job harder.”

  “Unless the assassin got a clean shot at Renee first,” Kansas commented.

  “But in that case, the chopper should’ve crashed near to the lodge. I didn’t spot anything. Didn’t smell anything either.” Calian shoved a spoonful of stew into his mouth and swallowed. “Despite the snow, our sense of smell is still excellent. We would’ve scented the fuel for one thing.”

  “So which way do we search?” Matto asked. “Do we pick the most logical direction? Or do we play it safe and each head in a different direction?”

  Dakota pushed his empty bowl away. “I say we use logic. Renee is smart. She’d have flown toward the ridge because as soon as she cleared it, she’d have protection from a gunman.”

  “Depends where the gunman set up,” Calian pointed out.

  Kansas scraped his bowl clean. “Yeah, Renee might’ve assumed the woman was still inside the lodge.”

  “We could search for the assassin’s scent, that’s if we can find it in this snow. She would’ve followed the chopper,” Dakota suggested.

  “Vote on it,” Matto said.

  Ten minutes later, three wolves plus Calian exited the lodge. Once Calian shut the door, he shifted and he and his brothers split up to search for scent trails. Almost immediately, Kansas howled to attract attention. He stood on a clear patch of ground, sheltered by the upward swell of the land and three tall trees. A track ran past the trees before snow covered the land again. Not much, but enough to give them a direction.

  Calian glanced at his brothers. Each nodded, and Calian dragged in the scent. Confident he had enough to track the woman, Calian trotted along the rough path leading away from the lodge.

  Shell casings.

  He paused, anger digging its claws into his flesh. Jason Vega’s fault.

  The man had done this because of his son. He’d wanted revenge.

  Calian growled, pissed at the man who’d gone after Renee, but he continued slogging along the trail, steadily climbing a rise. The path taken by the woman assassin wound in and out of spruce trees. The fall of snow had obliterated most of the prints, especially in the windier sections unsheltered by trees.

  Then he scented polar bear. He slowed, allowing his brothers to catch up and notice the same as him.

  Matto yipped while Dakota whined. Kansas remained silent but appeared unhappy. Calian didn’t blame him. Renee was already in trouble. Add in a polar bear and things became a mite trickier.

  Calian continued following the trail, backtracking once when he took a wrong tur
n. Then he caught the scent of blood. His stomach hollowed out and fear gripped him by the ruff. No, not Renee.

  His brothers sniffed the blood too, their forward progression behind him forcing him into the clearing.

  A skinny polar bear lay on the far edge by the trees while a figure in camouflage clothes was curled up in a ball closer to them.

  Calian approached the woman with caution since she clutched a gun. When he stuck his head closer, he heard no breathing. Dakota and Kansas pushed past him, healers at heart. Both nudged the woman’s face with their noses before retreating.

  Dead.

  The assassin was dead.

  Curious, Calian used his head to move her onto her back. Blood had pooled beneath her, turning the pristine snow scarlet. Someone or something had ripped open her chest.

  The polar bear.

  Calian approached, wary since the bear’s chest rose and fell. Blood covered his fur. A gunshot.

  The bear opened his eyes. Blue. A shifter then.

  A pained grunt escaped the bear. He sucked in a hoarse breath and shifted, the transformation taking longer than normal. An older man dressed in ragged jeans and a T-shirt appeared, and Calian recalled Sax saying their clothes morphed with polar bear shifters. The man’s skin bore a yellow tinge while it was obvious a bullet had caused the wound in his chest. Dakota and Kansas shifted as did Calian.

  His twin brothers placed their hands on the man, imparting some of their mystical healing energy.

  “You’re here for the girl. Your mate,” the man rasped.

  “Do you know where she is?” Calian asked, his voice sharp with urgency.

  “Not far,” the man whispered. “Injured but still alive. Helicopter went down that way.”

  Matto galloped in the direction the man indicated.

  “What’s your name?” Calian asked.

  “Gunnar Hallsten. Saw your girl many times with my boys.” His voice emerged strained and hoarse.

  “Don’t talk,” Calian murmured. “Let us help you.”

  “Dying anyway,” Gunnar said. “Saw the woman setting up her shots. Glad I could help your girl. Done something right.”