The sunrise shone over the mountains behind him just then, making his brownish-blond hair glint in the sunlight like an aura. It felt as though the sun had come out as I glanced up at him.
“Impressive,” he admitted, smirking at me, and pulling me out of my nitwitted behavior.
Unnervingly affected by his masculine appeal, I swallowed. “Thank you.”
Curious eyes brought my attention to the other side of the street, and I found Miss Baker staring at us with an all too knowing expression. That lady seriously needed to mind her own—Wait, are this guy’s hands on my ass?
Yes, they definitely were.
Glaring, my eyes returned to him. “Are you satisfied? Like, can you let go off my ass now?”
“Not satisfied.” He shook his head slightly; his intense eyes bore into mine. “Not nearly enough.” The timber in his voice and the naughty glint in his expression made the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
I pushed against his chest one last time. He didn’t even twitch.
Sighing, I dangerously narrowed my eyes at him. “Thank you for catching me. But if you don’t want me to introduce my fist to your eye, Pretty Boy, I suggest you let me go.”
His lips stretched into a sinful grin, and he finally complied. Stepping back, he lifted his hands in surrender. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and stable on your own two feet.”
“Thank you for your concern,” I scoffed, pulling away too, though my knees seemed a bit weaker than they were before I fell.
Taking a settling breath, I fixed my tank top and hip-hugging jeans, and his eyes followed the movement as he checked out every inch of me. I was fully aware of that, and yet, I didn’t really care. Turning around, I picked up the dolly, carrying it off the ramp.
Pretty Boy walked around me, reaching for the box.
“Wait! That’s super heav—”
My eyes widened when I saw him lift it like it was made of Styrofoam. Placing it on the truck bed, he pushed the ramp inside and closed the tailgate. “It’s okay to ask for help, you know?” he advised, wiping his hands.
“You don’t say?” I mocked, facing him again, but not before I threw a sly glance at the mysterious crate. How the fiddlesticks had he done that? “I’ve never seen you here before. Who are you?”
“I’m Pretty Boy. Nice to meet you.”
His answer made my lips twitch. “You liked that, did you?”
“You have no idea,” he confessed, smirking again. “I’ve been called pretty much everything in the book. Never that. It kind of made my day.”
Eyes twinkling naughtily, he plunged both hands in his back pockets. The gesture made the muscles of his pecs and arms stand out, bringing attention to the verse tattooed in cursive onto his skin. It covered the left half of his chest, extending towards his shoulder. Part of me wished I could read it, but I didn’t really want to stare. Okay, that was a lie. What I really wanted was to rip off the stupid tank top that was in the way, and ogle him the same way he had done with me, but I had to go.
“I see. Well, I’m Aria. Nice to meet you, Pretty Boy.”
Extending a hand to my face, he dragged his fingers along my cheekbone and jaw—like he was entitled to touch me that way—and I froze, even my breathing halted. He uncovered the wavy silver lock that hid among my chocolate brown hair, admiring it briefly, then let it go.
“Aria… Beautiful name,” the stranger admitted, nodding towards the back of the truck. “Will you need help with that once you get home?”
Suddenly out of sorts, I cleared my throat and stepped away, pushing the silver strands he had touched behind my ear. “Nah. My brothers will unload it. It will be Christmas morning for them.” He probably didn’t understand the reference, but he nodded, nonetheless. “I have to go now,” I announced hesitantly, though I had no idea why, and got into the truck.
Moving out of the way, he watched me as I put on my seatbelt and turned on the ignition. “One last thing,” Pretty Boy called, making me look at him. “Fudge nuggets??” His lips twitched with the question.
“I don’t like cursing,” I answered, and he made his way to me, stopping just outside my window.
“You don’t like cursing, but you say ass?”
“Shut up.”
Turning around with a chuckle, he sauntered towards the other end of the street while I pulled out of the parking spot. My eyes followed him through my side mirror, to find him opening the door of the red 1950’s truck I’d seen parking there earlier. Pretty Boy got in, and looking straight into my eyes, he winked.
How the hell did he even know I was looking at him?? Ugh.
As he drove away, two more questions arose in my mind. Who the hell was he, and what was he doing in my town?
Scooping the leftovers of the lamb meatloaf and vegetables, I placed it all into a plastic container when my dad wasn’t looking, and hid it under the counter. After getting the remaining dirty plates from the table, I stuck them into the sink while my brothers sat on the couch continuing their favorite activity.
Hunting preparations.
My gaze lazily swept over the several kinds of ammo laid over the coffee table, while I wiped the dripping syrup of my piece of marionberry pie and sucked it off my finger. Taking the last spoonful, I added the plate to the pile and let the hot water begin to run. The sound of rifle chambers locking into place, guns being loaded with bullets that could basically shred a human limb, and metal bear traps clanging, reached me. Their noise was as jarring as the truth they represented.
While my father assessed the traps to make sure they were in tiptop shape for tonight, my brothers got their toys packed with the goodies Billy Joe had provided them. Idly scrubbing the dishes, I glanced toward the large crate through the window. It had been placed outside and they had yet to uncover the freaking thing.
Concern awoke inside me, but I forced myself to focus on something else and grabbed another plate. It didn’t work. My eyes roamed the mounted heads of animals all around us. A black bear stared into nothing on the wall, glassy eyes lost just like the mountain lion’s next to it, and the Roosevelt Elk on its other side.
A stuffed coyote attached to a plaque hung to our right. However, it was the humongous head placed on top of the river rock fireplace that took first place among my father’s most precious kills. A wolf head from the biggest species to ever exist.
“Aria!” The rage in my father’s voice made me jump, and the plate fell from my grasp, shattering against the tile floor. “I’ve called you three times!”
“Sorry, Jack.” The mumbled words left me as I quickly wiped my hands on the apron. Turning to the fridge, I pulled out another six-pack and walked to the coffee table, placing a beer in front of Dad, and handed the other four to my brothers—leaving the extra bottle in the center of the table.
“Next time don’t make me call you more than once,” my father seethed. “Preparing for tonight is crucial, I don’t need to be wasting precious time because you are daydreaming about having babies with Prince Charming.”
My jaw clenched as I bit my tongue not to say what I really wanted to say. Did he really believe there was nothing inside my brain other than fantasies of getting knocked up and belonging to some hillbilly??
“Bubba is right, you should know better, little girl,” Jacob, the perfect first born, added, while James—next in line for the redneck throne—nodded in agreement. Jeremy and Jimmy, the twins, fought over who got the extra beer.
Placing the empty bottles into the beer carrier, I made my way back to the kitchen and finished doing the dishes. I was going to need another chocolate croissant if I was to make it through what was left of the day. Tidying up the kitchen and dinner table, I pulled out the trash bag and tied it tightly.
“I’m taking out the trash,” I called to them, opening the back door.
Not a peep.
Whatever.
After I dropped the bag into the large dumpster, I went back in, and headed to the hallwa
y closet. I took a towel, a pair of yoga pants, and an oversized T-shirt out of it. “If you guys don’t need anything else, I’m going to the river.”
Crickets.
Good. Taking the food container I had hidden under the counter, I opened the back door and began to slip away—
“Aria!”
I froze, hearing James walk his way to me. What the fiddlesticks? Turning around, I slipped the food between my clothes and towel, giving him a fake smile. “What do you need?”
“The bulb in my room burned out. Change it.”
“Can’t you change it yourself? You had two hands last time I checked.”
“Aria, respect your older brother,” Jacob scolded from the sofa, and once again I bit my tongue.
“Yeah, respect me, little girl. Also, stop being a smart ass and do it. I have no idea where the hell you keep the bulbs.”
“Sure, I’ll do it when I come back,” I answered, swallowing the sarcasm screaming to come out.
His brows furrowed in confusion. “Who said you could go anywhere?”
“Oh, bite me. I’m nineteen years old. I don’t need your permission to go anywhere, assface.”
“Where do you think you are going?” Dad demanded, standing from the sofa to look at me. “You can’t just leave the house without telling me.”
“I just told you that I—!” Eyes widening, I stopped myself. “Never mind. If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to the river. Is that okay?” Another fake smile stretched my lips while I waited.
Considering it for a few moments while cocking a heavy caliber rifle, Dad finally nodded. “Fine, just make sure you iron tonight’s uniforms for us when you get back.”
“Will do, Jack.” I turned, tightly gripping the container and praying they didn’t notice.
“Oh, and Aria.”
I froze, looking at him over my shoulder. “Yes?”
“Take out the trash, will you?”
Seriously?
“I—” Sighing, I just left the house. What was the point? I just wanted to swim in the river and forget about my life for a bit. Especially before it got dark outside.
Glancing around me, I began to walk away from the house, my eyes carefully skimming the forest. La Grande might seem like a normal town, and in many ways it was, but not here. These woods were far from normal. Creatures of nightmares lurked in the shadows, waiting for their chance to pounce on unsuspecting humans and shred them to pieces.
The very reason my dad and brothers had a job.
They hunted creatures that should never exist. Things that others believed to be nothing more than fantasy. However, the people in this city knew the truth. Predators infected these mountains, threatening our very existence.
No. I wasn’t talking about bears, mountain lions, or any other dangerous animal out there. Monsters. I was talking about real monsters that scared even the bravest of men. Beasts my father’s family had tracked and killed for ages.
The Clarks were supernatural hunters, and hunting Wolf Shifters was the family business.
Chapter Three
Before heading to the creek, I stopped by the barn to check on our chickens, our sweet cow, Betsy, and our goat, Mario, replacing their water and food then went on my merry way.
Sometimes I dreamed of telling my brothers and father off and cursing them ‘til the cows came home before I hightailed it out of this place. That was what I was saving all my profanity for really. Honestly, cuss words made me cringe, but I was going to curse, and enjoy it, when I finally told them to go fork themselves and to stick it where the sun didn't shine!
Then I woke up to the harsh reality where those men were basically killers for hire, and my father was the scariest and most strict dude you would ever meet. Being the youngest, and a woman, in a family of five headstrong men wasn’t easy. It didn’t matter what rights I thought I had, or the respect I believed I deserved, there was no tolerance for anything but following Jack’s orders; I had learned that the hard way.
No one would ever dare defy him, not my brothers, not anyone in town, and sadly, not me either. I couldn’t even call him Dad. Jack, that was the only thing he allowed others to call him, even though his perfect sons called him Bubba.
To say the men in my family were intimidating was an understatement. It was the first reason we lived in the skirts of the blue mountains instead of in town with everyone else.
People steered clear of them unless they needed their services—the second reason we lived kind of off the grid. This was beasts’ territory. and Dad knew the woods like the back of his hand. He knew how to track everything that lurked in the darkness, and most importantly, how to kill it.
Thoughts of leaving this place left me as I got swept away by the scenery at the river. Lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t noticed I had arrived at the one place that gave me serenity. Deeply enjoying the sound of the running water behind me, I made my way to the two-hundred-year-old tree on the right side that expanded like a canopy along the entire area.
I’d always thought it was the perfect tree for a treehouse.
I hung my clean clothes from the massive low branch that bent and curved towards the ground, as though wanting to touch it.
Taking off my shoes, I reveled in the feel of the wet grass beneath my feet, and bent down, reaching into the crevice at the foot of the trunk. I pulled out a leather bag I kept there, opening it to take out a couple of gloves, and antibiotics from it. After I tugged the gloves on, I opened the food container, and crushed the pills, mixing them into the meat for easier digestion.
Once I set down the large container a few feet away, I took a few more things from the medical bag.
“Come on, boys. Come get some yummy food.”
My head turned as I felt the rustling of bushes and I found two red foxes peeking through the leaves. A smile curved my lips, yet I made sure to stay very still so they didn’t feel intimidated by my presence. They were young foxes, not fully matured, and they were gorgeous. Slowly, they made their way to the food, throwing sly glances at me as they moved, but the hunger they felt won over their caution.
When they began to eat, I gently inched my way to them, lifting a hand to their fur.
“Beautiful boy…” I cooed soothingly, allowing my hand to gently caress him. He bristled a bit under my touch, glancing up at me. “It’s okay, boy… I mean you no harm. You can feel that, don’t you?” My fingers continued to stroke his back and tail, and he lowered his head, giving into my touch as he began to eat again. “Good boy.”
After they got used to my presence, I took advantage of their distraction and began to check them for fleas or anything else that could harm them. This was only the third time I tended to them, and they were wild foxes, so unfortunately, they were at the mercy of the forest. Taking the antibacterial spray, I lifted the first one’s paw and pulled off the bandage I had wrapped around his wound.
It was dirty and a bit fringed, but it had protected him for the most part. I was actually impressed he hadn’t tried to rip it off, maybe he felt better with the raw skin covered.
Applying the spray and a healing cream, I wrapped it in fresh bandages and checked his ear—happy the injuries looked much improved. Next, I tended to his brother, cleaning his fur like I had done to the other as much as possible, and treating the injury on his hip. It was evident they had gotten in a fight—most likely with each other.
Satisfied with my job, I stood, throwing away the dirty gloves into a plastic bag, and moved away from them, letting them finish the lamb and rest.
Part of me wished I could take them home and care for them, house train them. Young animals—no matter how wild or dangerous they may seem—responded to love and care, so it wouldn’t be difficult to achieve. Besides, it was clear their mother was no longer around—perhaps dead after coming across a hunter—but I wouldn’t be helping them if I took them with me.
Dad and my brothers would just see them as new trophies for their walls. Especially the twins, sin
ce they would get some morbid fascination because the foxes were brothers too.
The rush of the cold water swirled around me when I finally stepped into the river, and every cell in my body became alive. I loved bathing in its waters more than I did at home. I was a weird creature, I knew that, but I loved nature with all my being.
Reaching for the all-natural soap and shampoo I had left at the edge of the bend, I began to clean myself, thoroughly washing my short hair. I had cut it into a modern bob last winter, and I had never been so happy in my life. It was just so much easier to manage.
As my fingers stroked the silver lock of hair along my bangs, the memory of the stranger returned to me, and the way he had admired it as he caressed my cheek. A nervous rush made its way through my belly with the memory.
For some weird reason, I was born with the white strands in my otherwise brown hair, grouped into a perfect lock along the top. Many thought I bleached it that way, but I didn’t. It was something I never even thought about anymore, but after the way he’d looked at it… The way he touched me… My finger curled along the strand, and I admired it too for a moment.
Sighing, I plunged into the rushing water, rinsing my hair, and leaned back against the rock. Chuckles left me as I went over our exchange in my head, and the question returned. Who was he? Was he just here for the yearly car show? Judging by the red truck he drove, he might be. Not that it mattered—
The sound of broken twigs on the ground startled me, and I whirled in its direction to see the foxes’ heads snap up at attention. They had been curled on the ground next to each other after their big meal. Swallowing, I fervently glanced all around me, the river was usually free of predators, but I was raised to never take any chances.
When the noise returned, slower this time, I knew there was real danger. Only a predator would slow their pace, step more carefully onto the frail ground to minimize the chances of scaring off their prey. My thoughts were confirmed when the foxes sprung up, hightailing it out of there.
Falling for Shifters: A Limited Edition Autumn Shifters Collection Page 18