She needed proof.
When she found it, Felicity knew she might have the means to take Thorn’s range away. Hell, the man would probably beg her to take his land. She couldn’t solve the mysteries of the lumberjack from here. Excusing herself, she went out to her car and drove through the night back toward civilization and Oscar León.
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Chapter Fourteen
The moose made for a satisfying meal, and so did the stag Thorn came across on his way back home. The big deer smelled like a vegetable garden. Feeling like he was doing his bit as the apex, he sidled into his back yard, pulled on his damp clothes, and headed into the trailer.
First thing, he was sticky with animal blood despite the rain. He grabbed a quick shower. After failing to find a beer in the fridge, he plopped down on the couch. TV couldn’t distract him from thoughts of Felicity. These days, he couldn’t get her off his mind at all.
Shifter sex turned out to be better than the regular human kind—who would’ve known?—but there was more on his mind than that. Once again, he remembered The Vet’s warning and hung it on the beautiful cat shifter. Was banging him out in the woods part of a plot to oust him as apex? If that was the case, he wouldn’t mind a little more. Okay, a lot more. Even if it wasn’t part of an evil scheme, he still wanted as much bang-time as he could get with Felicity.
The thought at once made him randy, and shook him to the core. He had never boned a woman more than twice, never asked a woman out, never sat around mooning. Scarier than the thought of someone out to get him was the idea that he was in a relationship.
Felicity wanted a romantic date. What did that mean? Did he have to wear a tie? He didn’t even own a tie. Would he have to find a restaurant where he didn’t speak the language? More to the point, why was he so bunged about this in the first place?
He wondered if she had stayed in Ripple after their crazy wilderness tryst. It was a long way back to the city, after all. Maybe he could swing by the Shoats’ place. If her car was parked in the driveway, he could leave a note under her windshield. He was thinking about her. Dot the I’s with some hearts. Was that romantic, or was it too adolescent stalker?
If her car wasn’t there?
“Go to sleep you idiot. You have work in the morning.”
He felt like he was a big, dumb moth to her bright flame. That kind of attraction never ended well for the moth. Still, if her car wasn’t there, then maybe their lovemaking in the woods was her goodbye to him. He did embarrass her at that French place. Perhaps the woods were the only place she would see him. He was not good in public.
“Stop it, you idiot. You have work in the morning.”
But if her car was there, and there was a light on upstairs, maybe they could take a walk together. A romantic walk, a hand-in-hand stroll under the nearly-full moon. A walk that ended in more hot banging in the woods.
Deep within, the bear rumbled approval.
“Aw, shit.” Thorn snatched up his keys and headed out to the truck.
An hour later, his heart took a dive. No sporty little car. He’d spent the drive composing his love note. Idling on the street in front of the B&B, he realized he didn’t actually have any paper. He would’ve had to write it in the condensation on her windshield. With the absence of the car, weighing adolescent stalking against romantic was purely academic.
Before he backed into the driveway to make a U-turn, his eyes strayed toward the intersection. Maybe she was at the bar. If she were still in town, that was the only place open. In for a penny, he thought as he rolled on down the highway.
Her car wasn’t in the lot. It could be around back. Thorn could just circle the place like an idiot, or he could just go in and at least have a pitcher or two. Apex-ing was thirsty work.
Inside, his senses picked up a trace of her scent, but only a faint trace. If she’d come in here, she was gone already. The Marinos huddled at their usual table, escaping from their alpha wives no doubt. All four of them side-eyed him before leaning close to whisper. Freakin’ wolves.
“Thorn, hi, what’ll you have?”
Sally leaned against the bar. Thorn’s heightened senses instantly detected that she was not wearing a bra. Several inches of cleavage showed at the unbuttoned top of her usual shirt, his first real evidence that her knockers were huge. He glanced around. The game was over, and nearly all eyes were on Sally’s freed attributes.
“The usual.”
She put her elbows on the bar, giving him more cleavage and a slight smile. “That all you want, big man?”
“Yep.” Was Sally flirting with him?
“I can give you a lot more.” She shook her head, ran a hand through her wild curls. Thorn saw a stained bandage on her wrist.
“Are you hurt?”
She tilted her head. “Maybe I like to be hurt.”
Without her ugly glasses, and was that a touch of makeup? Sally looked good. Really good. Why hadn’t he ever noticed? Why was he noticing now? He was here looking for Felicity. He found her scent intoxicating. A new perfume or something else? Deep blue eyes gazed into his, her pupils dilated, cheeks slightly flushed, full lips parted.
Thorn reacted down below. He couldn’t help himself. He was male, and Sally was coming onto him boobs-first. With her mussed hair, the cleavage, the suggestive thrust of her chest, it was like the bar owner was in heat.
“Maybe I should go,” Thorn said. Was that reluctance in his voice? He’d seen Sally nearly every weekend for years. Now all of a sudden, he wanted to bang her? No, he didn’t want to bang her. He wanted Felicity. If he couldn’t have Felicity, he could go without.
“Not without your pitcher,” Sally said, flowing over to the taps. She drew the beer expertly. When she was done, she spilled some down the front of her shirt. “Oopsy. I’m so clumsy.”
Almost immediately, the wet fabric outlined jutting nipples. Thorn’s jaw hung. It was his bear who snapped him out of it. Images of Felicity flickered through his mind. He grabbed the pitcher from her, downing it in a few long gulps.
“Thanks, Sally.” He banged the pitcher on the bar and dropped a ten. “See you next weekend.”
“It’s that Felicity bitch, isn’t it?” Sally snarled, showing her teeth. “I can give you more than her, Thorn. Do anything you want with me. I want you so bad.”
Thorn blinked at her a few times, trying to clear his head. Some aspect of Sally was really messing with him. Alarms were going off. He didn’t understand what it was, but in his heart, he knew he had to remain faithful to Felicity.
“I got work tomorrow.” Thorn walked as quickly out as he could without looking like he was running, even if he was.
“Hey, neighbor, hold up.” Laramie Marino stood out front smoking.
Thorn didn’t stop. “Gotta go. Work tomorrow.”
“You hook up with that real estate babe? She was talking about you.”
That stopped him. He whirled on the wolf shifter. “What did she say?”
Marino took a deep drag and blew smoke into the night. “Mostly, she set us straight. Said you weren’t the bear ripping up the town.”
This was news to Thorn. “There’s a bear ripping up the town?”
“Yeah, you haven’t seen all the garbage blowing around?”
Thorn had noticed a lot of garbage, the overturned Dumpster behind the general store. “How do you know it’s a bear and not a bunch of kids?”
“Big-ass bear tracks and piles of shit is how. We figure it’s the guy who left all them deer on your lawn. What did The Vet have to say, anyway?”
Thorn’s heart began to race. The Vet warned him that a predator was coming for him, to knock him off of his apex position. All this time, he figured it was Felicity. Now it was clear that this was something far more dangerous. He wasn’t about to tell any of this to the wolf.
“I think I’d better get home.”
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C
hapter Fifteen
Rain spattered her windshield as she pulled into a sleeping Portland. Oscar León had an apartment over his office. The building stood a few blocks from the Portland Art Museum. At this time of night on a Sunday, parking was easy enough to find. Felicity parked just across the street. She gazed up at the lighted windows of the upstairs apartment.
Had she known how much danger Thorn was in, she would’ve stopped by after the brunch from hell. Despite the bad breakup between her and Oscar, he was the best private investigator she had ever worked with. Given her suspicions, she decided to approach her ex-lover immediately.
Pulling her trench coat tight, she hurried across the street. Beneath a small awning, she pressed the apartment buzzer. Several cars swished through the night as she waited. Finally, after more than ten minutes, she heard him through the speaker.
“This better be good.” His words were slightly accented, voice deep and smooth.
“Oscar, it’s Felicity. I need your help.”
In the background, her cat ears picked up a feminine giggle. “Once they get a taste of Latin love, they’re hooked for life. Come on up.”
Rolling her eyes, she shoved the door open as the lock buzzed. Halfway up the stairs, she met a woman coming down. She was blonde, slender, and quickly pulling her clothes into order. Felicity smelled Oscar’s scent all over her.
Whatever.
He waited for her at the top of the stairs. A silken robe was thrown over his compact body, showing off a lot of caramel skin and cut physique. “Mi Tesoro,” he held his arms wide for a hug.
“This is business, amigo. Strictly business.” She pushed past him into the apartment. It looked the same, Mayan art reproductions lining the walls, statuettes sitting on bookshelves. Furniture was dark, plush and masculine.
“You’ve never been one to avoid mixing business with pleasure.”
His scent was overpowering in the apartment, cologne, soap, shampoo, and pure Oscar. Memory was often most strongly triggered by scent. Felicity did her best to ignore the thoughts. “Times have changed.”
“I can’t believe you don’t miss what we had.”
“Being cheated on constantly, lied to? Yeah, I miss that a lot, Oscar.”
He shrugged expansively, arms in the air. “We are cats, Felicity. It’s what we do.”
Oscar’s hair was cut short these days, his pencil mustache replaced by a trendier goatee. Black hair, black eyes, chiseled features hid the jaguar just below the surface. He was an attractive and dangerous man. If she dwelled on any of this too long, she felt the good times they shared would overwhelm the bad, and she might drown in them. She got right to business. “You received my message.”
“It’s Domingo, Corazon. You know I don’t work on Sundays.”
“This isn’t a favor, Oscar. I’m paying you for this.”
Sighing, Oscar moved to the laptop on the coffee table and sat on the couch. “It must be important for you to show up this late on a Sunday. I was entertaining.”
“Yeah, I saw the entertainment leaving.”
“Like this isn’t about a man you’re interested in,” Oscar made a gesture at the computer.
Well, that was pretty on the mark. “I think he may be in danger.”
“If you’re involved with him, he’s probably most in danger from you.” He booted the machine. “Okay, this is what I found so far. For the real details, you’ll have to wait for the world to awaken. Come. Sit.”
He patted the leather cushion next to him. Not liking the intimacy, she parked next to him, arms folded. Oscar scrolled a little, until a news clipping came up. The headlines screamed out at her:
Family Falls Victim to Bear Mauling
Mother dies defending her child
Felicity couldn’t help but lean closer to Oscar in order to read the story.
KODIAK TOWN, ALASKA—Emergency Services reported a bear attack on campers three miles outside of Kodiak Town around Midnight, Sunday, Oct. 23. A Kodiak bear mauled two campers, a mother and her four-year-old son. The mother, who authorities identified as Mathilda Sommers, was pronounced dead on the scene.
Sailors on leave from the Naval Special Warfare Cold Weather Detachment arrived first on the scene after hearing a commotion. “It sounded like bears fighting,” said Petty Officer David Mitchell. “When we got there, we found bear tracks and a woman lying in the snow. It wasn’t until Fish and Wildlife arrived that we found the boy.”
The boy, who remains unidentified, was rushed by emergency air evacuation to Providence Medical Center. His condition is unknown as of this report.
According to Agent Stan Smirnov of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, the bear attack was highly unusual. “The attack didn’t occur near a spawning stream or any usual bear habitat. This late in the season, bears should be in hibernation.” The investigation into the mauling is ongoing, he said.
“You’re sure this is about Thorn?”
“There are a few follow-up articles,” Oscar said. “Authorities looking for the relatives of one baby boy; Thorn.”
“Baby boy; Thorn? No first name?” Or last name. She had never asked him which Thorn was.
“You need to read another.” Oscar pulled it up.
Woman Delivers Baby Alone in the Wild
WILLOWCREEK, ORE.—Malheur County Sheriffs’ Deputies report finding a woman and a newborn baby in a wrecked vehicle one mile southeast of Willowcreek late last night. With recent heavy snowfalls and temperatures dropping below 20 degrees, the woman and her newborn were suffering from hypothermia when a patrol car spotted an orange truck that had slid off Highway 26 and down an embankment.
“Apparently, the woman went into labor while driving. When she tried to pull over, she lost control. She still managed to give birth to her son without any complications,” Deputy Samantha McCarthy said. “The vehicle was not functioning, so the two of them were pretty cold when we found them.”
The woman, Mathilda Sommers, and son, so far only known as Baby Boy, Thorn, are recovering at St. Alphonsus Medical Center in Ontario, Ore.
Felicity re-read the short story. “Could you print them for me?”
“Of course.” Oscar hit the print button, and pages scrolled out on a side table. “Kid had a pretty rough start.”
He had more than a rough start. Thorn’s mother had given birth to him while she was driving in the farthest eastern part of Oregon. What was a woman so far along in her pregnancy doing driving through the wilderness in the winter? The answer was made obvious by the first story she’d read. Mathilda Sommers was on the run. She had made it as far away as Kodiak City, Alaska, before she and her son were found again.
She had no illusions about what this was.
“Blood vendetta,” Oscar said the words for her. “Your new novio is a shifter, no?”
Yes, but Thorn said he had been turned as a boy. In the politics of solitary predators, any affront would be hung on the descendants of the offender. Thorn had a target on his back since before his birth. It was something the wolf pack in Ripple could never understand. Felicity fully understood this dark side of her nature, as did Oscar.
But did Thorn?
Felicity jumped off the couch. “I have to get back.”
“Yes, you should hurry before this interloper steals your chance to steal this Thorn’s property.”
She whirled on him. “What makes you so sure I’m not going to warn Thorn to keep him safe?”
“Are you being serious right now, baby?” Oscar relaxed into the leather cushions. “The man’s a bear. Maybe when you’re done playing with him, you could come back and get serious with me. We’re the same, Felicity. We are cats, the most superior creatures on this planet.”
An ember grew inside her, small but hot. The anger was partly at Oscar’s arrogance, partly because what he said was true. “Call me when you learn something useful.”
“And if I find nothing?”
She walked out the door. “Then you’re not nearly as good as you
think you are.”
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Chapter Sixteen
“Aw, son of a bitch!” Thorn’s truck bumped over the score of dead raccoons in his driveway. His headlights had swept over another dead deer, stuck antlers first in the ground. His nose discovered dead skunks somewhere in the darkness. Ahead, his front door hung from the top hinge.
“Shit!” he yelled, jumping out of the truck. Kicking a few dead coons out of the way, he made his way to the trailer. Skunk smell overwhelming, he still inhaled deeply, seeking the scent of the invader. He couldn’t catch a single whiff.
Just inside the door, a huge pile of bear scat steamed. “No, no, no, no.” A blizzard of food wrappers covered the floor—frozen pizza boxes, crushed soup cans, butcher paper, Twinkie cellophane. “Aw, man, not the Twinkies.”
Muddy paw prints covered the kitchenette linoleum, fridge and freezer doors open. Nothing remained within the little unit. Damn it that meant more shopping.
In the bedroom, he found his kitchen garbage can where it had been thrown. Through the window, he saw his outside cans ripped apart, the thick plastic now so much blue and green confetti on the ground.
Thorn went back to the kitchen and stared at the tracks. They were big, wide, the size of his own. It confirmed that Felicity wasn’t the challenging apex. So who the hell was it? There were no bear shifters anywhere around, as far as he knew.
What had started out as a pretty good day had now turned to utter shit. Felicity had taken off, Sally wanted to get into his pants, and there was roadkill and garbage everywhere his eyes landed. He stared at the bear poop on the rug. He was pretty sure there was Twinkie in there, as well as corn from one of the many ruptured cans tossed around.
Man, it stank, even with the door flopping open. He had work in the morning. What to do? He could either clean up, or find the bear that did this and kick the shit out of him. The rest of the shit, that was.
The Apex Shifter Complete Set: Books 1 - 3 Page 8