He had never personally encountered the hunter organisation that specialised in dealing with what they called ‘non-humans’ but he had heard the horror stories from numerous immortals in his years, and he had heard first-hand accounts of them from Saint, Rune and Maverick.
Archangel had held Rune and Maverick for decades in an underground arena where they had been forced to fight other immortals in cage matches. Slaves to the humans, made to kill each other for entertainment. Lowe didn’t even want to imagine what their lives had been like. Thankfully, Saint had participated in a raid on one compound in Vancouver and had freed them, and they had joined the pride.
Lowe wouldn’t exactly say Rune and Maverick were recovering from their ordeal. Sometimes, both bears had a cold, dead look in their eyes that warned everyone away from them. Sometimes, Rune and Maverick ended up brawling over the slightest thing, and Saint had to step in to stop them once it started to go too far.
The rest of the time, the two bears were thick as thieves, as close as brothers could be without the blood to link them. Hell, maybe even closer than siblings could be. They shared a strong bond, one forged in that crucible, in whatever hell they had gone through and emerged from together.
Their bond was as powerful as the one Lowe shared with his twin.
A bond that was relaying how on edge Knox was right now.
Knox came to stand beside him and glared in the direction of the mountain. “I doubt it. Archangel haven’t dared come up this way since the cougars ran them off. It’s probably just a bunch of kids from town with too much testosterone, borrowing daddy’s hunting rifle and trying to impress some females.”
It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened. Saint had scared away a fair number of groups of youths in his time. Normally they came up in summer though.
“What are they meant to be hunting in all this snow?” Lowe looked across at his brother.
Knox shrugged.
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” He pointed to tracks in the snow a short distance from them. “Moose maybe?”
Lowe was worried they were after more than the local ungulates. “What if they’re after the bears?”
One year, soon after he and Knox had settled at the Ridge, a group of adult males had come up to shoot bears in early spring while they had been asleep in their dens. He shifted from foot to foot as he remembered that day, his bear side restless with a need to hunt down whoever was on the mountain and deal with them as he had those hunters. They hadn’t made it back to town.
Saint had buried their bodies deep in the forest on the other side of the valley with Rune and Maverick’s help, and none of them had spoken about it since.
Knox had been given the unenviable task of talking Lowe down, convincing him to shift back from his bear form, and had a few scars to show for it. Lowe hadn’t been able to stop himself from lashing out at anyone who had come near the dead female black bear and her tiny squirming cubs that had been crawling on her, calling for her.
In the end, it had been Rune who had managed to convince Lowe to shift back. A big cinnamon black bear himself, he had been as angry as Lowe to see what the hunters had done to an innocent mother.
Rune had shown a softer side that still seemed impossible, had bundled up the two cubs in his jacket and had taken them back to the Ridge, and had ended up raising them both in his cabin. The two females had grown up strong and healthy, and after a few years of being tutored by their adoptive cinnamon bear father, they had gone on their way.
Sometimes, they dropped by the Ridge in summer.
Lowe had been moved to tears the first time one had shown up with cubs in tow. Rune had demanded she tell him who the hell had knocked her up and had then proceeded to roll around on the stone bank of the creek with them, playing until both cubs had been exhausted.
Everyone at the Ridge knew where the sisters overwintered and Saint always went to check on the two of them when they woke. Lowe worried that one spring soon, Saint was going to come back with bad news. Wild bears didn’t have anywhere near the same lifespan as their shifter counterparts.
He looked to his brother, needing to hear him say that the hunters weren’t after the bears, and wind whipped against him.
Laced with the faintest hint of blood.
“You smell that?” Lowe frowned in the direction of the mountain.
Knox stared hard at it too, blue eyes scanning the blizzard and the shadowy shapes of the trees.
He muttered, “I smell it. Guess we have our answer now. The humans are hunting each other.”
Lowe pulled down a deeper breath as wind gusted against him. He caught the scent more clearly and every muscle in his body clamped down onto his bones as an urge to growl rolled through him, hitting him out of nowhere.
A third shot rang out.
Lowe kicked off, sprinting through the trees in the direction it had come from.
“Come back!” Knox yelled.
Lowe couldn’t.
He needed to find the source of that scent, before he was too late.
Before whoever was after her ended up killing her.
Chapter 3
Cameo was quick to release the bear spray and depress the trigger. Her aim was a little off, caught only the man with the rifle. He roared in agony and stumbled backwards, fumbling with his gun as he raised his hands to his face, and she flinched and tensed as the loud crack of it firing made her ears ring. She broke into a sprint as the second man moved, running to her left, placing the injured man between her and the one with the pistol.
He hollered something at her that she didn’t hear over her fast breaths, over her heart as it thundered in her aching ears. She just kept running, winding through the trees, trying to use them for cover as her mind raced. What was she going to do?
Adrenaline surged, had her blood pumping faster as she squinted into the snow that rushed towards her and battled the fierce wind. Her legs ached but she kept running, trying to see the path ahead of her, pushing herself past her limit as fear gripped her. She had to keep running. It didn’t matter where she ended up. She would deal with that once she had escaped.
Her panted breaths didn’t get a chance to fog the air as she raced forwards into an area where the trees thinned. The weather was worse than she had thought possible, the wind and snow so intense and the darkness falling so rapidly that she could barely make out what was a few feet from her. It slowed her, but hopefully it would cover her tracks too, would make it hard for the man she hadn’t hit with the bear spray to find her. He would be coming after her while his companion tried to shake off the effects of the spray. Maybe she could disappear in this storm and find a place to shelter, one where he wouldn’t find her.
She risked looking back.
Gasped as she saw a light bobbing around behind her, chasing after her through the snow.
She had to go faster.
Cameo pushed herself harder, running blindly as panic took the helm, and regretted it when she ended up following another wrong route, heading higher into the trees with no way of getting down without a long slide down a steep, wooded slope. She would probably break something if she went down there, and she couldn’t turn back either. All she could do was keep going and hope there was a route down again and this trail didn’t just lead up to the mountain.
The snow grew deeper, covering the trail, forcing her to slow down and watch her step. She panted hard as she carefully walked, kicking snow aside so she could see the path. Her trembling legs made it hard work and the glances she kept tossing at the thirty-foot drop to her right weren’t helping. She couldn’t seem to convince her eyes to remain on the path though. That drop kept beckoning her.
Pain blazed across her left arm before she even heard the gunshot.
Cameo flinched and stumbled, landed on her hands and knees on the trail. She forced herself to stand again, covered the rip in her coat with her right hand and pushed herself to keep going. It had been a wild shot—a lucky shot. That was all. If she jus
t kept going, she would be fine.
She couldn’t stop herself from slowing though as her blood seemed to chill and her mind started to blank and her legs felt like noodles beneath her.
A shriek tore from her lips as the man grabbed her right arm and twisted her towards him. She hit him with her left arm and gritted her teeth as the fire burning across her biceps blazed hotter. She clenched her jaw and kept hitting him, desperately trying to break free, images of her brother flashing across her mind as fear swamped her. She was going to end up like that—beaten and dead.
No. She couldn’t let it happen. She fumbled, trying to reach her bear spray.
The man shoved her to the ground, into the snow, and jammed the gun in her face.
Freezing her.
“Tell me where the money is, bitch.” He squeezed her left arm.
Cameo whimpered and screwed her eyes shut, but refused to cry out as pain rolled through her, making her nauseous.
“Tell me where it is.” He growled those words.
She looked up at him. “I don’t have any money. Nate was lying to you. He probably thought you would let him go… was desperate. I don’t have any money.”
Cameo could see in his dark eyes that he didn’t believe her, that he was never going to believe her. She stifled another cry as he dragged her onto her feet, using his grip on her left arm to lever her up off the snow.
He glared down at her. “Karl will deal with you. He’ll be arriving in a couple of days.”
Panic blasted through her. Karl had been the one who had beaten her brother to death. Sweet Karl who had turned into a bastard when he had become an adult. She had been shocked when she had discovered he had gotten into the drug business, hadn’t wanted to believe the things Nate had told her, but now she did.
Karl was as sadistic as her brother had painted him.
And he was going to kill her when he realised she didn’t have his money.
And then he would kill her parents.
“March.” The man shoved her past him on the track, back the way they had come.
Cameo jerked backwards and hit the man with an elbow to the face, only meant to knock him away from her so she could run.
He stumbled, bellowed as he fell backwards and tugged her towards the edge of the path. She grabbed one of the trees and clung to it, holding on for dear life as his weight pulled her with him, and then relief rushed through her as he lost his grip.
Relief that swiftly became guilt as she looked down the slope, watched him strike a tree and get spun around. His flashlight twirled, blinding her before it clattered down to the bottom of the slope ahead of him. His gun went off as he hit another and she flinched and curled into a ball, grimaced as he tumbled and landed against a tree at the bottom of the slope, his body bent backwards at an awful angle.
Cameo released the tree and twisted to face the slope, the cold uneven ground biting into her hands and knees. She eased forwards, peering down at him as she breathed hard, trying to see him more clearly through the darkness. Dread pooled in her stomach. In the weak glow of the flashlight that had landed facing him, he wasn’t moving and blood tracked down his forehead from a nasty wound on his temple. He couldn’t be dead. Oh God, she couldn’t have killed a man.
She leaned further forwards, desperately seeking a sign of life.
Shrieked as her left hand slipped, fumbled for the tree nearest her and missed it.
She hit the slope on her chest, somehow managed to spin herself around and roll onto her back so she was sliding feet first instead. Her lungs felt too tight as she desperately tried to control her descent, reaching for trees and roots, anything to stop herself. Her left leg hit a tree, the impact jarring, and she cried out as fire rolled up her bones. She ended up spinning around again, into an uncontrolled roll that had her tumbling down the rest of the slope.
Cameo slid to a halt beneath a pine and laid there on her back, breathing hard, snow blasting against her.
Everything felt numb as she stared at the dark canopy, as pain ebbed and flowed through her, and what she had done rolled up on her. She had killed a man. She was sure of it. Cold chilled her and she tried to fight the darkness as it crowded the corners of her vision, but she wasn’t strong enough.
Heavy footfalls shook her awake, had her forcing her eyes open and her hand to her bear spray. She managed to get it off her belt and held it before her in trembling hands as her breath stuttered from her and fear rushed through her again, tearing down what little strength she had left.
Only it wasn’t the other man.
The towering man who emerged from the blizzard wasn’t one she recognised, although he wore black like the other two had. Maybe he was with them. Maybe she had missed him in Banff when she had noticed the other two. He didn’t have a weapon she could see though, or even a flashlight to help him in the dark.
“Stay back.” She shook the bear spray at him.
He arched an eyebrow at her, his eyes filled with an unimpressed look as she threatened him. “No need to get violent. I’m only here to help. I heard the gunshots.”
She didn’t have time to contemplate just how smooth and deep his voice was, or how it seemed to ease the tension from her. Sickness swept through her. Get violent. She was deeply aware there was a body near her—a death she had caused. Panic gripped her once more, so tightly this time she felt as if she was going to pass out as she fought for air.
“I killed him,” she muttered, her hand shaking hard now, causing the bear spray canister to jitter all over the place. She let it drop to her lap as fatigue washed through her, as the last of her strength left her.
The man looked to his left, strode over to the body and hunkered down next to it. He grabbed the flashlight and used it. She didn’t watch him as he inspected the dead man, couldn’t bring herself to look at what she had done.
“You killed him if you shot him in the head,” he drawled and she felt his gaze on her.
He moved on the edges of her vision as she stared at the sky, struggling to breathe and get her panic under control. She hadn’t killed him? For some reason, it wasn’t a comfort. She still felt responsible for his death. She had pushed him down the slope, had caused his death.
The man bent and straightened again.
“A handgun?” He looked at her and she still couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “Guess he wasn’t a hunter then.”
He went back to the body and crouched beside it as he checked it over again, didn’t seem at all bothered by what he was doing or the fact the man was dead. “Any idea who he was?”
She was in too much shock to speak, could only shake her head.
He looked at her and seemed to notice it.
He went from all business to all softness as he stood and came to her, rounded her and eased to his knees on her left side. The flashlight he gripped illuminated him enough that she could make him out more clearly. His blue eyes locked on her arm, concern flickering in them as he checked the gash in her jacket.
She swallowed and looked up at his face, was sure it was the shock talking, but he was handsome as he smiled at her and dimples formed in his cheeks. Some god had sculpted this man to perfection, with his strong jaw, straight nose and a slight indent in his chin, and blue eyes that were as deep as an ocean.
“You in shock?” His smile faltered, the corners of his mouth turning downwards as his blond eyebrows pinched. “I think you’re in shock.”
She was sure she was.
She was in tremendous pain, but she couldn’t feel it as she stared at him, as she swam in those baby blues.
“Shit,” he muttered and pulled his gloves off. He pressed his fingers to her face. “You’re freezing. We need to get you somewhere warm.”
She was warm.
“The bullet only grazed your arm. You should be good to move. Maybe this whole thing has been a bit too much for you though.” He stood and pulled her onto her feet.
She screamed when she placed weight on her left leg, sank to
her backside on the cold hard ground and clutched her ankle, breathing through the pain.
“Christ, I’m sorry.” He dropped to his knees beside her, gently took hold of her legs and eased them in front of her. She flinched when he moved her left one and he noticed it. “What happened here?”
He felt her leg from her thigh downwards and she tried not to think about where his hands were. When he reached just above her ankle, she clenched her teeth hard and whimpered as fire blazed outwards along her bones.
“Slope. Fell.” It was all she could manage.
His blue eyes lifted to the slope behind him.
“Gods, that’s a long drop.” He glanced at the dead man, a look in his eyes that told her he thought she was damned lucky not to have ended up like him.
He gripped her arm again and eased her onto her feet this time. She tried not to place any weight on her left leg, but even with it all on her right, her ankle still throbbed madly. Her stomach turned and she clutched it, breathed through the nausea as she stood with the man holding her upright.
“I’m not sure you can walk.” He cast a worried look at her leg.
“Can.” She bit the word out, determined to get away from the dead body and from the other man, sure he was after her by now.
She hobbled a few steps and then stopped when the man didn’t follow her and it hit her that she wasn’t sure where she was going or what she was doing. The sensible thing to do was get back to her car and get away from this place before she could get this kind man in trouble too.
She almost cursed. Her keys were in her backpack. The backpack she had left behind when the two men had shown up. She couldn’t go back for it. By now, the other man would be recovering from receiving a blast of bear spray in his face. He might be waiting for her to return for her things, or for the man who had come after her to bring her back to him so they could leave to meet up with Karl.
Rescued by her Bear (Black Ridge Bears Shifter Romance Series Book 2) Page 3