by Liza Street
The killer had to be somewhere in the Junkyard. There was no escaping this place once you were in. So they had come in to kill Alleman, and then…they were just going to spend the rest of their life here, hiding from the rest of them? It made no sense.
The darkness seemed a little darker, the air a little colder. Jase had lived here for five years. The Junkyard was his home, his territory. To him, this place wasn’t any kind of prison—it was where he belonged. He ran his business, he lay down to rest every night, and he was even building a community. The fact someone had sneaked in here and killed one of the shifters in his domain grated on his pride.
“Alleman wasn’t a good man,” Stetson said from beside him.
“Yeah, I know,” Jase replied.
“He was going to keep causing trouble for Blythe.”
Jase nodded, then paused. “Wait, what?”
“Alleman had been dropping hints. I won’t tell you what he talked about, but even Buenevista thought he was going too far.”
“And Buenevista used to run with him, Barnum, and Mathers,” Jase said, his voice a growl. He forced himself to take a deep breath. Alleman was dead. He wouldn’t be able to terrorize anyone anymore. “Do you think Barnum will give as much grief, now that Alleman’s gone?”
“I doubt it,” Stetson said. “Alleman was the instigator.”
Jase scanned the trees around them. He didn’t look on the ground only, but also up high in the branches. If the killer was in his bear form, he probably wouldn’t be up there. It was hard for grizzlies to climb. But humans could climb trees easily enough.
“I guess the worry is that Beau Mollin rears his ugly head,” Jase said. “He could fill the role of ‘bad guy’ now that Alleman has vacated it.” Something reached his nose—a smoky scent. He tapped Stetson’s shoulder and pointed ahead.
Stetson nodded.
Jase stripped out of his clothes and called forth his mountain lion form while Stetson stood guard. As soon as Jase was fully in his lion form, Stetson stripped and shifted, too. His jaguar form was sleek and black, and he blended into the shadows. As Jase circled to the west, Stetson circled to the east. This would’ve been easier with three Junkyard shifters instead of two, but the interloper was still outnumbered.
Jase stalked ahead, not too slowly, but not in a hurry, either. The killer wasn’t going anywhere. Jase and Stetson were herding him to the northwestern edge of their boundary, not too far from where Alleman’s body lay by the pond.
Faint light shone in the distance—the guy they pursued was shifting. Was he shifting into human or bear? Jase couldn’t tell. He hadn’t been looking for tracks, but following a scent.
The question was answered soon enough, when the light faded and a large grizzly charged forward. This wasn’t an invitation to talk—this was a show of force, of menace. The look in the grizzly’s eyes promised harm.
Jase sprang forward to meet him. He was vaguely aware of Stetson off to the side. If Jase couldn’t handle this fight, Stetson would jump in.
The grizzly only slowed enough to rear up on its hind legs and roar. Jase growled, low and guttural, and took a running leap for the bear’s neck. The sooner he could establish dominance and get to the bottom of this issue, the better.
Swiping his large claw to the side, the grizzly nearly clipped Jase’s head. Jase corrected his trajectory by twisting in the air and landing on the grizzly’s shoulder. He used all four of his paws to grip the grizzly’s body and bit down on the side of the grizzly’s neck until he tasted blood.
The grizzly roared in pain and anger, twisting its body back and forth, trying to dislodge Jase. But no way was Jase letting go. It was his responsibility to get to the bottom of this problem, and he’d have to establish dominance and get the grizzly to shift and talk if he was going to do that.
The shadowed world tilted and fell away, the stars above careening across Jase’s vision as the grizzly purposefully fell back to land on Jase. Scrambling, Jase freed his claws from the grizzly’s hide and tried to get out of the way, but his lower legs were pinned.
It was time to either retreat, or double down.
Jase was more of a double down kind of guy.
He bit and scratched every piece of furry real estate he could reach on the grizzly, raking his claws over fur and flesh, chomping down on muscle, drawing blood. The grizzly, probably trying to escape the pain, adjusted his position. With Jase’s powerful hind legs newly freed, he kicked and raked them over the grizzly’s side.
The scent of blood, sweet and coppery, filled the air. The grizzly roared. Jase called back with a resounding snarl and leaped again.
The grizzly lost his balance and fell, this time with Jase on top.
Jase was smaller, but stronger. He pinned the grizzly with his jaws to the bear’s throat. He’d won.
Stetson came forward, ready to assist with questions once Jase and the grizzly shifted to human.
But every time Jase let up on the bear’s neck, the bear thrashed and growled.
Jase didn’t want to kill the guy—he wanted to find out why the guy had killed Alleman.
He tried again, loosening his hold.
The bear swiped up with a claw, aiming for Jase’s throat. Jase dodged the worst of it just in time. He spun around, but the bear was on him.
You lost, Jase thought at the bear, but it didn’t matter. This shifter wasn’t playing by any typical rules of dominance.
This shifter was trying to kill him.
Jase growled and whirled around, claws extended. Roaring, the grizzly fell on him, biting down on Jase’s shoulder, missing Jase’s neck by inches. Pain, sharp and burning, spread through Jase’s body, thudding in time with his thundering heart. The bear batted one of Jase’s forelegs away, but Jase came back with the other, stronger and harder, and raked it across the grizzly’s throat. Blood spattered, thick and plentiful. The grizzly gurgled, clawed at its own throat, and fell.
Fuck. Jase shifted back to human and rushed at the bear. Stetson gave a growl of alarm, but Jase knew the bear wasn’t faking. There’d be no surviving a torn throat.
The grizzly was dying the same way it had killed Alleman. It was fitting, but Jase didn’t have to feel good about it.
“Shit, why’d you come back after I established dominance?” Jase said, standing naked over his dying opponent.
The grizzly, of course, didn’t answer. He looked at Jase with a baleful expression in his eyes, hateful to the last breath.
And when the breathing finally stopped, a faint glow illuminated the bear’s fur as Stetson shifted into his human form next to Jase.
Shaking his head, Jase looked at Stetson. “What the fuck just happened?”
“The asshole didn’t know when to stop,” Stetson said.
“Or he did,” Jase said, “and he knew what he was doing. It was like he wanted me to kill him. We all know to stop when someone’s got our neck. He didn’t stop. Fucker. You could still be alive!” Jase kicked the bear’s hind leg, then turned away in disgust.
Stetson didn’t say anything, merely considered the dead guy.
“He must’ve really hated Alleman, to come in here just to kill him,” Jase said. “He had to know he’d be stuck here afterward. Fucking dammit!”
Stetson was silent. Then he said, “You’re injured, and I’m guessing your mate’s worried. You go back home. I’ll take care of burying this guy and Alleman. Need to grab a shovel and a couple guys to help.”
“Thanks,” Jase said. “There’s one other favor I have to ask—I’m hoping Markowicz might be willing to help cook up a feast for tomorrow night.” He looked at the sky. It was still dark, but getting lighter over in the east. Morning would arrive in a couple of hours. “Or tonight, rather. I want to do something for Blythe.”
“Sure thing.” Stetson clapped Jase on his uninjured shoulder and turned away.
Stetson walked south, while Jase walked east toward the cabin. As Jase went, he took stock of his injuries. Nothing he wouldn’t h
eal from, but his shoulder hurt like it had been run over by a truck. The bleeding was slowing, so that was good, he supposed. It looked like shit, though.
He veered slightly off course to grab his clothes, and slid on his jeans. No way was he interested in stretching his arms out to put on a shirt, so he crumpled the cotton fabric in his fist and pointed himself toward home, and Blythe.
The cabin windows were dark, all was silent. He hated the idea of waking Blythe, but he knew she’d be worried if he didn’t return tonight. Mate or not, she cared about him, and that meant something. He didn’t want to cause her more anxiety than necessary. Softly, he knocked on the door.
It opened immediately, and Blythe’s eyes went big as she gasped. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Fight with a grizzly,” Jase said.
She reached out as if to help him walk.
“I’m fine, babe,” he said, but he accepted her hand because her skin felt good against his.
“This is not fine,” she snapped.
Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders and down her back, a cascade of fire. She was wearing one of his t-shirts, no pants. The sight went straight to his cock, and he was glad he’d stopped to put on his jeans.
“I’m a shifter,” he said. “I’m going to be fine, really.”
She sighed. “What happened?”
“I killed someone.”
He expected her to flinch, but she didn’t.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “Mentally?”
“I’m pissed as hell. I didn’t want to kill him. He kept trying to kill me, though, wouldn’t admit defeat.” Jase couldn’t keep the regret from his voice.
Blythe’s green eyes were full of understanding. “Who was he?”
“The grizzly who killed Alleman. So we’ll never know just what Alleman did to piss him off so bad.”
“Well, I can live with that mystery,” Blythe said.
Jase nodded; he supposed she was right.
Pursing her lips, she went into the bathroom. The faucet ran for a moment, then Blythe came back out with a couple of towels and a plastic tub of water. “We’re getting you cleaned up. Even if you’re fine, which I highly doubt from looking at you, we can’t have you bleeding all over the bed.”
He rather liked her grouchy demeanor, even if he usually didn’t like being fussed over. When she pointed wordlessly to the single chair in the cabin, he sat in it without argument. And when she began gently cleaning his wounds with the wet cloth, he remained silent for as long as possible and let her work.
“You know I can’t pick up infections, right?” he finally said.
“This is to keep the bed clean, then,” she said, but her hand lingered on his skin.
“I like you touching me,” he said.
She didn’t say anything, but her breathing hitched slightly. Her warm, sweet scent grew stronger. Jase held back a groan. He wanted her. Why hadn’t he said yes when she’d propositioned him the other day? Saying no had been the stupidest thing he’d ever done. He should’ve taken her up on her offer and shown her just how amazing it could be between them.
She dipped the cloth back in the water, then rung it out and dabbed at his shoulder again. He caught her wrist in his hand and held it until she raised her beautiful green eyes to meet his gaze.
“What is it?” Her voice was a whisper.
“Do you like touching me?” he asked. “Because I like touching you, and I like it when you touch me.”
She tried to look away again, but he said, “Blythe. Please…” He normally would’ve hated the begging note in his voice, but this was Blythe. He couldn’t help it. He wanted her, and he always had.
“I like it,” she said. “I like all of it.”
Before he could follow up with another question, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
He growled low in his chest. Her lips were so soft, her breath so sweet. He touched his tongue to her mouth and she parted her lips for him, just enough for him to get a fuller taste of what Blythe had to offer. Sweet yet fiery sexiness. She was candy and spice, softness and steel. Raising his hands to her face, he gently cupped her cheeks, holding her there to extend the kiss.
When she pulled back, he heard himself growling again, but he let her go.
The pinkness on her cheeks was barely visible in the lantern light, but it was there.
“We should…I should get some rest. I’m exhausted,” she said.
No lie there, but he knew there was more that she wasn’t saying.
Still, he wouldn’t press her. He sent her a smile and said, “I’ll turn off the lantern while you climb in bed.”
It would give him a chance to adjust his dick. This would be another few hours spent frustrated next to Blythe. Which was, basically, his new way of life. Frustrated next to Blythe…but strangely happy at the same time.
11
Blythe scribbled the next line into her notebook. And Maeve knew, then, that she could not let Gerald win. She would not let him fill her mind with lies. She would not let him fill her heart with hate. Because Jase was too important. She loved him. And she would not give him up, no matter what.
She sat back. It was a bit melodramatic, but she could work on that later. The important part was that the idea was there.
And yeah, she’d given the love interest Jase’s name. She could change that later, too. Or maybe she’d leave it.
Outside the cabin, darkness was quickly falling. It was only the beginning of August, but already Blythe regretted the shortening days. Summer was her favorite season, and it would soon end. It made her wonder what the future held. She couldn’t stay in the Junkyard forever, could she? Honestly, if she could get wifi and enough electricity to power a laptop, she’d be perfectly content staying here indefinitely. The question was: how long was Jase willing to pretend to be her mate? Because once that was over, she had no idea how the other guys would treat her.
“Blythe?” Jase’s voice came from somewhere outside.
Quickly, she covered up her notebook with other loose pages of writing, including notes on the new love interest. Blythe cringed in embarrassment when she realized the love interest didn’t merely share Jase’s name—he also looked like Jase. Her mind was trying to tell her something, but Blythe didn’t have time to figure it out, because the door was opening and the real Jase was stepping inside.
He was even hotter than the idealized version.
“Hey,” he said. “You’re still working?”
“Just finished up for the day,” she said.
He looked like he was sitting on some good news, with his mismatched eyes alight with restrained excitement, a small smile playing on his lips. The wound on his shoulder had completely healed, and she pursed her lips, glad that he’d been right about being fine and frustrated with her panic last night at seeing him so torn up.
She’d waited up for him, worried, and then to see him step into the cabin, covered in blood? She’d nearly had a heart attack. Her feelings were still a mix of relief and anger.
Jase strode forward and stood in front of her. “What are you thinking about?” he asked. “Your face is showing me everything, but what’s in your head? It’s like watching a foreign film when I don’t speak the language. I see the emotions, but I don’t know why they’re there.”
His proximity, his tenderness, his words. Blythe’s chest filled with an aching sweetness. So she decided to be honest.
Standing, she said, “I worried about you last night, that’s all. I’m mad that you got hurt, and I’m relieved that you’re okay. And I’m confused as hell.”
Standing up put her directly in front of him, with only a couple of inches between them. If she inhaled too deeply, her breasts would brush against his chest.
“Why are you confused?” he asked.
“Because I’m feeling all these things. No, it’s not that I’m feeling them. It’s that I’m feeling them so…strongly.”
Jase’s hand was warm on her upper
arm. He squeezed her gently and she leaned into him, giving in to the hug she so desperately wanted to give him.
Their bodies met. It wasn’t a kiss; there wasn’t anything sexy about this. It was a meeting of two souls who needed something more from each other. They needed something deeper, beyond a physical desire or lust.
And in this embrace, Blythe felt something bigger—she felt belonging. Her throat constricted and her eyes stung with tears.
Jase rubbed his hands over her back, warm and comforting. Blythe clung to his waist and pressed her face into his chest, grateful that he was so tall compared to her that he wouldn’t be able to see her watery eyes.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he said, his voice a rumble against her ear.
Dammit, how could he tell?
“I’m not crying,” she said. Her voice sounded tight and upset even to her ears, and she frowned harder against him.
“Oh, babe. You lie to me all the time, you know that?”
“I do not.”
He chuckled and continued rubbing her back. “So I came in here to fetch you for a party.”
“A party?” Pulling away from the embrace, she quickly rubbed her eyes and then looked up at him.
“Yeah. I thought it would be fun.” He grinned, his teeth white, his smile beautiful.
“Let me get this straight,” Blythe said, only figuring it out as she spoke. “Yesterday, someone murders Alleman. You find and kill the killer—nearly getting killed yourself, I might add. And tonight, you want to have a party?”
He nodded, still grinning. “Pretty much, yep.”
“I do not want to be a part of some celebration of death,” Blythe said.
“That’s not what this is, trust me,” he said with a laugh.
Great, now he was making fun of her. She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Would you please just come with me?” he asked, his face turning serious. “You can leave as soon as you want to. Just come see, okay?”
“Well, since you asked nicely, I guess,” she said.
“Great. Ready to go?”
“Am I dressed okay?”
“You’re absolutely stunning no matter what you’re wearing,” he said, “but you look especially good for a Junkyard party.”