by K. Panikian
Chapter 10
At the park, I recognized Jordan’s car. I jumped from mine and sprinted down the path, releasing my puma senses and searching the breeze for a hint of my friend, or of the lionesses.
I spun, heading toward the creek that ran through the meadow and behind a copse of cottonwoods, I found them.
Two blond women, muscled and tall, stood at the base of a tree, staring up at its branches. On a high limb, spitting and snarling, huddled a lynx. Jordan.
I exhaled in relief and at the sound, the two betas turned to me. Their angry faces cleared and matching expressions of glee took their places.
“Ranger Barbie,” the slightly shorter, blonder one sneered. “We missed you. How are the ribs?”
Catapulted in time back to the spring, when the four lioness betas punched and kicked me, and ground me down into the gravel of the parking lot, I felt a lingering ache in my ribs and thigh. I’d taken the beating on purpose, not trusting myself to fight back without unleashing my Beast. But times had changed.
I stared at her, feeling my eyes begin to glow with power as my Beast surfaced. The beta blinked and her grin faltered slightly.
“I can’t remember your names either,” I said slowly. “Something French, right? Or from the 80s? I know you’re not Blair. She got kicked out for messing with me.”
The other woman hissed at me.
The first said, “I’m Yvette and that’s Stacy. I’m the one that kicked you in the kidneys and Stacy knocked you out.”
I swallowed and cocked my hip. “I remember you now. Where’s the third bimbo? I mean beta.”
“Maren’s on pack business with August,” Yvette said, stepping closer to me. Stacy paced behind her, growling. Their rolling shoulders and aggressive sounds called to my urge to retaliate, to dominate.
I checked on Jordan in the tree and saw her watching me. She shook her lynx head and I winked at her.
Focusing on the women again, I started calling my Beast. She paced in my chest, growling and flexing her claws. I found the rage that I’d used against Blake and it came easily to me this time. I remembered the the spring and the feeling of helpless fury as I submitted instead of defending myself. I remembered every kick and every punch until they knocked me out. I remembered feeling weak and afraid and ashamed. The rage boiled over as I started to stalk forward.
The women paused, staring at me with frowns on their pretty, sharp faces.
I sent my power to my right hand again, reshaping it in a hot, sharp flash of pain, and tucked it behind my back.
Yvette got her bravado back first and ran forward. I waited until she was almost to me and spun to the side, punching out with my hybrid claw in a tight fist. I caught her right in the temple and her head snapped back as she flew through the air, hitting Jordan’s tree with a crunch.
I tucked my hand out of sight again and glared at Stacy.
She wet her lips, then shook her shoulders out to sneer at me again. “My turn.”
She paced forward slowly and started to circle. I turned my body, keeping her in front of me as she edged closer and closer. Her shoulders looked strongly muscled—I bet she did martial arts or boxing, I thought to myself.
She tensed her right arm slightly and I tracked the movement with my keen puma eyes. She darted forward, raising her fist to punch me in the face, and I whipped my hybrid hand out in a blur, slashing her across the ribs.
She grunted and fell at my feet, crimson pouring from my claw marks. The clearing stilled around us as her blood pulsed and wrath blossomed in my core, tensing my body to strike again.
I looked down at her grimly, feeling my rage like fire in my veins. I should kill her, I knew. She would kill me if the situation were reversed. Blood seeped from her wounds in a growing red stain on her shirt and she moaned, curling into a ball. My fury coalesced into an incandescent ball of hatred in my chest. She was a threat, to me and to my pack.
I looked down at my monstrous hand, at the gore under my claws.
Jordan called my name and I glanced up at her, my eyes unfocused. My Beast urged the lioness’s death again and I started to bend down.
“Sienna,” Jordan called louder. “Someone’s coming.”
Blinking, I felt the words slowly process in my brain before I stepped back from the wounded beta.
I watched as the tendons and muscles of my arm and hand flowed back into my human shape and I gasped at the exquisite pain.
Jordan slipped off her branch and stepped to my side, touching my arm. “Settle down. Get in control. August’s coming.”
Staring at her, I released my Beast and exhaled shakily. My heart pounded with adrenaline and bloodlust and I felt goosebumps popping out on my skin as my sweat cooled. I looked down at Stacy’s sobbing form and over at where Yvette lay, crumpled and unmoving at the base of the tree.
“She’s not dead. I checked,” Jordan said.
Inhaling, I cleared my nose of the lioness scents and focused on the clean, watery freshness of the creek. I sucked down a few more deep breaths and was almost calm when August ran into the clearing, another blond woman behind him.
My hackles rose again when I saw her and I growled, shoving Jordan behind me.
“What happened here?” August asked, glancing rapidly around the clearing. He snapped his fingers at the blond, Maren, I guessed, and she ran to Yvette by the tree.
Jordan cleared her throat behind me. “I had lunch with Everett. You know that I asked for permission first.”
August nodded, walking forward to look at Stacy’s bloody form on the ground. He called Maren over and she pulled off her sweatshirt, applying pressure to the wounds and glaring at me. I ignored her.
“I left the restaurant and came here. I wanted to clear my head. Those two,” Jordan gestured, “followed me from my car. I called Sienna and they chased me. I shifted and climbed a tree.”
August said, his voice harsh, “You should have called me.”
Jordan hunched her shoulders. She would never call August for help, I knew. He had to know that too.
“I got her voice message,” I said, “and found them here—Jordan in the tree and your betas threatening her.”
“And why didn’t you call me?” he asked
“There was no time,” I lied. I’d wanted to fight the betas; I’d promised my Beast. But August didn’t need to know that.
August shook his head at me and I had a feeling he knew the truth.
“I got them away from Jordan and we fought. Then you got here.”
August looked at the bloody woman at our feet, listening to her whimpers as Maren smoothed her hair back from her sweating forehead.
He sighed deeply and looked at me with unhappy eyes. “Sienna, I can't let you do this. This is my territory, my pack, and you’re an outsider.”
My fury bloomed again and I fought my Beast this time. August couldn’t see her. I growled out, “So I should have taken another beating? Or let Jordan take one while I hid, waiting for you?”
“You should have called me.”
“There.Was.No.Time.”
My vision started to tunnel and my pulse pounded as I tried desperately to find my calm. I felt claws pricking at my fingers as I gasped in the dry air. I needed to get away from the smell of blood and the angry, heavy pulses of power echoing from the alpha in my personal space.
“The pack system is despicable,” I rasped. “If you’re not fixing it, you’re part of the problem. Jordan followed your rules and your betas would have beaten her anyway. I defended her. I didn’t kill your betas, though I could have. We’re done here.”
I grabbed Jordan’s arm and hauled her away, back to the cars. She stopped to pick up her torn clothes and her phone.
By the parking lot, I felt almost fully in control again. I shook out my hands, pacing in a quick circle around my car. The scrape of the gravel under my shoes crunched in the still lot and I listened to the sound, picking out a pattern until my breaths calmed.
“Are you o
kay to drive?” I asked Jordan.
She pulled a spare set of clothes from her trunk and dressed quickly, shivering in the cool air. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Good.”
She reached for me and I stood still as she hugged me tightly. We’d never hugged before, though we’d been friends for months. Tears sprang to my eyes and I blinked them away, feeling foolish. I lifted my arms to hold her tightly. Her lynx smell soothed my Beast—my pack was safe.
We stood for a long moment before Jordan stepped away again. “Thanks for saving me.”
I gave her a watery smile.
“I’ll come by tonight and talk to you about what Everett found out.”
I nodded and watched her drive off.
Dropping my head back, I looked up at the bright blue sky. Reduced to tears after a hug. Some alpha I was.
I could hear the sounds of August and the betas approaching as I slid into my car. Leaving the parking lot, I caught a glimpse of August stepping out of the meadow, a still-bleeding and crying Stacy in his arms. Maren followed with Yvette slung over her shoulder.
I felt the weight of August’s stare as I turned my car north. I didn’t look back again.
THAT evening, Jordan puttered in my kitchen, making tea, as she told me what she discovered from Chief Palmer.
“It’s only the ranches to the west of town. No one else has reported any rustling to the police. That’s the Baker place, the Ribbon B, the Brisco place, and Elk Valley.”
“How much missing stock are we talking about?”
“Probably fifty animals from each ranch over the course of the past six months. That’s about two hundred cows, or over $120,000 if the poachers are selling them only for the meat.”
I thought about it. “That’s not that much money, if we’re talking about a whole poaching operation, with multiple players. But if we assume they’re also poaching wild elk from the Refuge and the park, maybe it’s adding up okay.”
Jordan brought in the tea. “Everett’s trying to find out if other towns around the state are experiencing similar thefts. If they’re in multiple towns, that adds up too.”
“So we have a ring of elk poachers selling the meat to unsuspecting customers. That means one of the poachers has to have a legitimate front. No restaurant is going to buy elk meat from the back of some guy’s truck.”
“Yeah,” Jordan said. “So we’re looking for another rancher or a meat distributor. I wonder if we could pull a list of potentials from the internet.”
She pulled out her phone and started scrolling. “Wyoming Fish and Game has a list of ranches that offer elk hunting. We could start there.”
“Sounds good. Email it to me.”
Jordan put her phone away and watched me through the steam rising from her tea. “Do you want to talk about the claw thing?”
I looked down at my hand on my mug, the hand that a few hours ago had sported wiry muscles and fearsome claws. “I’ve done it twice now,” I said slowly. “Only with this hand, and only when I’ve been really, really angry. I tried it just to practice, and nothing happened.”
Jordan shivered on the couch. “It was really creepy to see it. But very cool.”
“Do you think the betas saw?” I asked.
She shook her head. “You got it behind your back pretty quickly, and they were focused on taunting you. I don’t think they expected you to fight back. I don’t know how they’re going to explain the claw marks on Stacy’s chest though.”
“Maybe I had a knife?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
I drank my tea. “Logan told me that August’s pack is falling apart. Some of them, led by Blair’s friends, want August gone as alpha. It’s probably not safe to go into Jackson for a while, until they get it sorted out.”
Jordan agreed.
“I don’t mean to cramp your future dates with Chief Palmer though,” I teased.
Jordan rolled her eyes. “We are not dating.”
Chapter 11
That night another part of the forest burned. In the Tetons, as the snow fell in the high reaches, a dry patch of old growth by the lake caught fire. The flames danced over the brown branches, down the pine sap-soaked trunks, and raced along the forest floor.
The bones burned in an acrid conflagration, sending black smoke billowing into the cold, night sky.
IN the morning, I heard about the fire when I checked into work at the backcountry station.
“It’s not likely to leave the Tetons,” Melanie said to my group of fellow rangers, standing in the main hall and waiting for our assignments. “But keep your cells close over the next couple of days, just in case I need to call you in.”
In the equipment room, as I checked my radio batteries and grabbed a pack with water and a first aid kit, Jordan sidled up next to me and whispered, “Have you heard if they’ve found anything at the origination point yet?”
I shook my head. “Nick’s not talking to me anymore.” Her eyes widened. “You’re my best bet for insider police information now.”
She nodded and stepped away.
I hiked that morning with a distracted mind. Part of me focused on the trail and the erosion I monitored in my log book—the trail would need maintenance in the spring for sure—and part of me thought about the new fire.
I needed to find out what was happening to the elk meat the poachers were harvesting. There had to be either a new entity with meat to sell, or an existing entity that suddenly had more. But surely the police were already working that angle?
Without Nick sharing information, I didn’t know if any progress had been made on Daniel’s murder either. I wondered if I could find his roommate, what was his name again, Mike? And talk to him. My memory of Nick’s initial report was that the roommate said they weren’t friends. But Alex at the refuge said that he saw the two of them together in Jackson a few times. Was the roommate hiding something? Or did Nick not ask the right questions?
Alex had said Mike was a local kid. Maybe he’d gotten Daniel into trouble with something unrelated to the elk or the fires, like drugs.
I couldn’t go back to Jackson to sniff around the refuge or the town—not until things resolved with August. I’d beaten up his betas, throwing the dominance issue into question again. August couldn’t let it slide, I knew.
At the time, it’d felt worth it. Those betas had it coming. But did I regret my actions now? Maybe. I was hamstrung in my search if I couldn’t go to Jackson.
I shook my head. No, I didn’t regret it. The fury that coursed through me when I remembered Jordan in the tree let me know that I would do it again in a heartbeat.
WHEN I walked the path from the ranger station to my apartment later in the afternoon after my shift, I saw a missed call from August earlier in the day. I hadn’t brought my phone on the hike. I debated calling him back but decided not to. He was probably going to yell more about his betas and I wasn’t in the mood.
When I got to my apartment though, I stopped. My front door was marred with a long row of gouges. I measured them with my hand and inhaled. A lioness had slashed my front door with her claws. Probably Blair, since the scent didn’t smell like any of the three I’d run into the day before at the park.
Stupid, shifting into her lion form in the open like that. She must really be mad at me.
I smirked.
I texted Darcy and Jordan, letting them know that Blair had been in the park and to watch their backs.
I stepped inside and called August.
“What?” he said when he answered, his voice clipped with anger.
“You called me,” I protested.
“That was hours ago.”
“I didn’t have my phone on me.”
He sighed heavily. “Blair was spotted on the road to the park. Heads up.”
“Yeah, I’ve already gotten her message,” I said, slipping out of my hiking boots and padding down the hall to take a shower.
“What am I allowed to do to her?” I asked as I stepped out o
f my sweaty, dirty uniform in the bedroom. “She’s not your girlfriend anymore.”
“She was never my girlfriend. And do whatever you want.”
“Do I get a reward for taking out your trash? What if she’s in your territory?”
August growled and my phone vibrated slightly as the low tone registered. “Track her wherever you want. But if you set foot in my territory and I find you first, you and I are having a very serious discussion.”
I rolled my eyes and hung up.
After showering and dressing again, I checked the time.
If I were Blair and spoiling for a fight, and I drove all the way into the park without finding my quarry, what would I do?
Probably take out my frustration on someone weaker than myself, I decided.
I didn’t know any of the other members of August’s pack, and Darcy and Jordan had both checked in as spending the day north of the park in Gardiner. Blair had been kicked out of West Yellowstone and Jackson both. Where could she be holed up?
I stood outside of my front door again and breathed deeply. Following the scent, I turned away from the parking lot and walked slowly to the woods behind the apartment complex. Her musky, thick stench remained heavy in the air and I wondered if she’d deliberately walked back and forth, laying a trail for me to follow. My neck prickled.
In the trees I debated shifting to my puma form but decided to hold off. It was still daylight and I didn’t want to run into any people.
I followed the scent trail a little bit deeper into the trees before stopping. In front of me, on top of a large, gray rock, lay a red-stained bundled cloth. Picking up a stick, I moved the cloth, unrolling it, and saw it was a sweatshirt with the UC San Diego logo on it. Swallowing hard, I leaned closer and breathed in deeply. Blood. Blood and a very familiar puma scent. This was Logan’s bloody sweatshirt.
I poked it further with my stick and then my trembling fingers until I uncovered the piece of paper underneath with my name on it—my name and a location.
“Victory Mine,” I murmured as I read it.
My heart in my throat, I stuffed the note in my pocket and left the sweatshirt. Moving briskly, I grabbed my phone and called Logan’s number.