by Zoe Chant
“I’m very, very glad that I was there to help today,” he said. His voice was normally light, but it deepened with sincerity, and when she looked up, he met her eyes and held them. “I don’t want to think about what might have happened.”
Misty didn’t, either, but it was her job to think about that sort of thing. “I should have brought more backup,” she confessed. “Better weapons. I thought Eli was too much of a coward to fight like that. Next time, I’ll know better.”
“I hope there doesn’t have to be a next time. Are there more of that pack still out there?”
“Only the women and the kids,” Misty sighed. “And for better or for worse, the local wolves are pretty traditional. The women don’t tend to fight with claws, just with words.”
“And the kids?”
“Some of them are teens,” she admitted, “and I’m not sure what’s going to happen with them. I want them to see, to understand that if they take after their dads, it’s just going to go bad for them, but they don’t listen to me.”
“It’s hard to make a scared teenager listen,” Ty agreed.
“You probably have a lot of experience with that kind of thing, as a social worker.” Misty sighed. “Maybe I can emergency-deputize you again. Keep you human this time, use your words instead of your claws.”
“I’m at your service.” He squeezed her hand again.
Misty had been joking...but he didn’t sound like he was joking. She bit her lip, thinking about how much easier her job might be if she had someone like Ty around.
Then she shook the thought away. Ty was going home, and it wasn’t useful to fantasize about things that could never happen.
“I do wish I had a predatory shifter or two on the force,” she said, trying to generalize the fantasy into something useful. “Just your other form was very helpful today. A jaguar?”
He nodded confirmation. “We’re pretty unusual, so you’re probably not going to stumble across another one. Maybe one of your teenage wolves will grow up into law enforcement material.”
Misty tried to wrap her brain around that one, and it didn’t quite fit. “I wish.”
“Are you a shifter?” His voice was low. “It’s rude to ask, but it seems wrong that I don’t know.”
“Oh—I forgot that you didn’t, actually,” Misty confessed ruefully. “Don’t feel like it’s rude. Of course you want to know. I’m...well, I’m a deer. Actually.”
His eyebrows shot up. “A deer.”
“I know, it’s unusual. We’re all unusual, the deputies and me. Gene’s a raccoon, and the others are regular humans.”
He looked like she’d felt when she was trying to process the idea of Zeke or Ryder as deputies. “Policing wolves? And—I assume—bears, and cougars, the sorts of predators you see out here in the mountains?”
“Yup,” she confirmed, feeling the thrill of pride that always swept over her when she really thought about it. “And doing a damn good job of it, if I do say so myself.”
“You should.” He whistled through his teeth. “You must have a hell of a hold on your instincts.”
“Sort of.” Misty thought about how to explain this. “My dad taught me how to make it work. He was a deer, too—a stag. And he made sure I understood that being a deer isn’t all about being frightened and running away. It’s about observation, and quick thinking. It’s about making sure that you have all the skills, all the experience, necessary to prevent something bad from happening. And that’s what good police work is, too.”
“I wouldn’t have thought of it that way,” Ty said slowly, “but I can see how your dad was absolutely right. Deer are incredibly quick thinkers, and reactors. They have to be to survive. That’s genius.”
Misty smiled. “Thanks.”
“But what about really violent encounters, like today? I saw you. You were standing square between Gene and a charging wolf, pointing your gun at him without flinching. You can’t tell me that’s a deer’s natural instinct.”
“Well,” said Misty, “that’s where it’s important that I’m a human as well as a deer. After all, you’re not pouncing on every tasty meal that you see and tearing into it with your claws, are you?”
As luck would have it, the waitress appeared at that exact moment with their steaks. Ty waited only just until she’d turned her back, and then stabbed his knife into the meat with a playful growl.
“You haven’t seen me around food yet,” he said, and winked.
Misty laughed out loud.
***
Ty
Ty saw heads turning as Misty laughed. He wondered how often the people around here heard that gorgeous, bell-like laugh.
Not very often, he’d guess. When Misty had talked about her job, her forehead had wrinkled, her mouth set in a serious line. It hadn’t made her any less beautiful, but she’d looked determined. Almost intimidating.
No, Ty thought, she had looked intimidating. It was just that Ty wasn’t intimidated by her—he was drawn to her instead. He wanted to help solve the problems she was talking about, and he wanted to see the person underneath the intimidating looks.
Her laugh faded, but she was still smiling, her hazel eyes sparkling. He was getting a taste right now, seeing the woman behind the sheriff, and it was only whetting his appetite for more.
He couldn’t believe she was a deer. It must take such incredibly bravery to overcome her instincts in situations like today’s fight.
Although he could absolutely see what she meant about quick reflexes and attention to the smallest details being very important for police work. But the way she’d stood rock-solid in the woods, staring down a charging wolf...
Her father had been a stag. Ty could see it more easily with a stag—those antlers weren’t just for show. So maybe he was letting animal-kingdom gender roles blind him to the fierceness that a deer could really have.
Or maybe Misty was just exceptional.
Or both. Ty was willing to accept both.
“Are there are a lot of deer shifters around here?” he asked, wondering if there was a whole crowd of tough stags and does out in the woods somewhere.
But Misty shook her head. “You’d think so, but no. A few generations ago there were more, but Dad always said they left town because they didn’t like how many predators there were around here.” She smiled a little. “He said he and my mom were the last holdouts who were determined not to be scared of a few sharp teeth.”
Ty smiled. “I believe that.”
Misty took a deep breath. “But my mom passed away when I was just a baby, so it was just Dad and me when I was growing up.”
“That must have been hard,” Ty said softly.
Misty sighed. “I’ve always wished I could have known her. But my dad and I were a team. I know he tried twice as hard to be as much of a parent as he could, with a tough job like this one.”
“Seems like he did a great job to me,” Ty offered.
A quick, surprised smile spread over her face. “Thank you.”
“Nothing but the truth.” Ty finally took a bite of his steak, and his eyes closed involuntarily. “Wow. That is good.”
“We’re neglecting our food,” Misty said. “And after all your big talk about pouncing.”
“Forgive me. I’ll be over here inhaling this, excuse me.”
She laughed again. Ty felt like every one of his senses was in pleasurable overdrive—the close, warm atmosphere of the restaurant, the smell and taste of one of the best steaks he’d ever had, and the sight and sound of Misty, laughing.
He was starting to wonder if he ever wanted to leave.
***
Misty
It seemed like everything Ty did was—Misty didn’t know what the best word was. Expansive. Big. With gusto.
The way he laughed. The way he ate. The way he’d plunged right into the fight today.
The way he looked at her.
Misty tried to tell herself that he probably looked at every woman—at everyone like that
. It probably didn’t even have anything to do with her being a woman. He was just the sort of man who made everyone feel like they were the only person in the room.
So she applied herself to her steak, which was insanely delicious, and resolved to have a nice evening with an interesting, fun person, and not take anything else away from it.
After all, how often did she just go out to dinner with a friend? Never. She didn’t have many friends, and most of the ones she did have were also colleagues.
Not that she and Ty were friends.
Stop it. She wasn’t like this. She didn’t second-guess what people thought of her. She was Sheriff Dale, after the Sheriff Dale who’d come before her, and that was all that was important.
And if it was a little lonely sometimes, that was fine. Keeping people safe was much, much more important than having a personal life.
So it was fine. Everything was fine.
The steak, at least, was much better than fine. Conversation stalled as they both ate like starving animals, which Misty supposed they kind of were, and made various pleased noises.
Misty determinedly didn’t pay attention to the deep rumble in Ty’s chest that seemed to indicate immense satisfaction. There was no reason for it to send a thrill through her.
When they’d both polished off their steaks and were idly toying with the very last of the sides, Ty took a long drink of his beer and sighed. “Good job, both of us,” he said with a grin. “Those steaks didn’t stand a chance.”
Misty stabbed the very last of her sautéed mushrooms and demolished them. “Should’ve known better than to mess with us.”
“Little did they know that we’re a crack team of steak-assassins. Search and destroy, no target left behind.”
Misty giggled. “Everyone’s always telling me I should be a vegetarian, because deer are. I like steak. Though I don’t eat venison.”
Ty blinked. “I never thought about that. I haven’t spent time with a lot of shifters other than my family, not since I was in the Marines, and then we were mostly predators.”
“You don’t have shifter friends or a—or coworkers, down in Los Angeles?” Misty was proud of herself for biting back the word girlfriend. It wasn’t any of her business.
Ty didn’t seem to notice her slip; he was shaking his head slowly. “No, it’s harder to find each other out in the city. Fewer of us, more precautions. Not a lot of places to shift and run.”
“Where do you go to shift?” Misty asked curiously. She’d had a hard enough time the few years she’d been stationed in Missoula, and Los Angeles was far and away a bigger city.
“Way up in the mountains, north of the city. It was a heck of a drive, so I don’t get out there very often, especially since my nieces and nephews grew up.”
Misty blinked. “So when was the last time you shifted? Before the fight today.”
Ty’s eyes went faraway. He started counting on his fingers. “Three—three weeks? No, maybe more like a month.”
“What?” Misty couldn’t even imagine it. “No wonder you’re feeling burnt out!” Then she bit her lip. “Sorry, that was presumptuous.”
“No,” Ty said on a sigh, “no, you’re absolutely right. One of the things I mean to do while I’m here is get out into the forest and run. Maybe with the guys.”
“Why not right now?” Misty asked.
He blinked. “Right now?”
It was impulsive, and maybe a bit forward, but Misty suddenly didn’t care. So what if Ty looked at everyone the way he looked at her? He was looking at her right now, and she could see a dawning excitement on his face.
And she couldn’t be a part of putting off a shift-and-run for Ty for one more minute. She’d be going absolutely crazy after a month.
“That sounds...like exactly what I need.” Ty’s voice thrummed with eagerness. “Let me just get the check.”
“Oh, I have cash—” Misty started rummaging in her pockets for her wallet.
“No, absolutely not,” Ty said firmly. “I asked you to dinner. I’m paying. Besides, my mother would come right down from Heaven itself to grab me by the ear if she knew I let a woman pay half.”
Misty realized she’d been babbling on about her childhood and her father all this time, but she hadn’t asked Ty about his own family. It sounded tantalizingly large, given that mention of nieces and nephews earlier, and his mother must have been a force to be reckoned with.
She was about to ask, but Ty had lifted a hand to snag the check from the waitress, and the next few minutes were involved with cards and tip and so on. And the second he signed the receipt, Ty was up out of his seat, looking back at her. “Ready to get going?”
More conversation would have to wait. This was the most important thing right now. “Ready,” Misty agreed as she stood up to follow.
Ty eagerly led the way out into the parking lot. He stopped to drop his wallet, phone, and jacket in his car—all items that might not come along with a shift, unlike regular clothes—and then paused. “Should we drive somewhere first?”
Misty smiled. “We could. But the forest is right there.” She gestured at the woods behind the lot. Oliver’s was on one end of the town, backed right up against the beginning of the rise of forested mountain.
Ty shook his head, wondering. “It’s crazy to think that you can go out to eat at a restaurant in town, and then shift and be in the wilderness right outside the door.”
“Believe it,” said Misty. “Want to get going?”
“Do I.”
She led the way a few yards into the forest—pretty much the entire town knew about shifters, even those who were regular humans, but Oliver’s got the occasional tourist, and in any case it was considered bad manners to shift out in the street where anyone could see you.
As sheriff, Misty had plenty of cause to be grateful for that unspoken rule; she was pretty sure that there would be a lot more shifted fights in town if people felt like they could just go for their rivals in public whenever they got angry.
So they went a little ways into the forest. The sun had set long ago; the days were getting shorter, and the chill in the air was even more evident now that it was night. It was already snowing just a little uphill, and the snow would come to town very soon.
She paused in a tiny space between the trees, not really large enough to be called a clearing, and looked at Ty. He was camouflaged well in the darkness, his skin fading into the forest the way a white person’s wouldn’t, but she knew exactly where to look. It was like she had some kind of strange sense of his body heat; she’d felt him at her shoulder the entire time they were walking.
“Here’s good,” she said. Her voice was hushed, though she couldn’t have said why. It wasn’t like this was a secret from anyone.
“All right,” he responded, just as softly, and shifted.
The low light made it almost impossible to see him in his shifted form, but once again, that didn’t seem to matter. Misty could sense the dense musculature of the jaguar, the big, soft paws, the twitch of his tail. His eyes shone in the moonlight.
He sat back on his haunches, as if to say, Well? Your turn.
Misty took a deep breath and shifted.
She was ready, immediately, to clamp down on her doe’s instincts. It was much harder to stay calm around large predators in deer form—the doe’s instinct was to run, as far and as fast as possible, and it had taken Misty and her father a lot of years to slowly train her mind to master the desire to flee.
So she was ready to breathe, to calm the inevitable surge of fear, to coax the deer’s mind into friendliness again.
But she didn’t have to.
She waited, sure that it was coming.
Nothing.
Hello, cat, her doe thought. She took a step towards him. Look how beautiful he is.
He is, Misty agreed dazedly. Why aren’t you afraid?
Why would we be afraid of him? He would never, ever hurt us.
Misty had to agree, but she wouldn’t have
thought her doe would be the one saying it first.
Bewildered, she took a few more tentative steps towards Ty. He stayed absolutely motionless, watching her move but not even twitching a whisker.
Misty leaned forward and almost touched their noses together, inhaling. He smelled like a cat. Like a big, scary, predatory cat.
He’ll protect us, her doe thought, satisfied.
We don’t need protection, Misty responded automatically—and only then realized that she’d frozen in place with her nose a hairsbreadth from Ty’s.
Almost a kiss.
That startled her as nothing else had, and she leapt back abruptly. At least her deer form always landed gracefully.
She recovered her dignity after a second, and decided it was best to ignore...whatever had just happened. Instead, she went a few steps further into the woods, then looked back over her shoulder, waiting.
Ty understood immediately, and stood up, padding after her. In her deer form, the low light didn’t matter as much, so she could see the way his muscles moved under his fur, the beautiful patterns of spots, the graceful curve of his tail. His paws were absolutely silent on the forest floor.
Rather than let herself get mesmerized again, Misty turned around and led the way, trotting forth into the woods.
Ty made no sound behind her, but she knew he was there.
Testing, she picked up speed. Ty loped along behind her without any trouble, leaping stumps and fallen logs. She sped up again, and he paced her.
Soon they were both running flat-out. Ty caught up, pulling ahead for a minute, and she had a chance to see him run, powerful hindquarters propelling his body forward in startling bursts of speed, front paws landing unerringly in the rough terrain.
Misty felt like she could watch him forever.
The crisp night air invigorated her like it always did. She went for runs like this almost every day...but they were never quite like this. The thrill of the chase flushed through her, the exhilarating charge of matching Ty’s pace, ignoring everything else in favor of the big cat streaking through the forest in front of her.
They reached the first steep upward slope, where rocks started to break through the pine needles and underbrush. Snow dusted them, shining white in the moonlight.