by Ranae Rose
She’d always loved his accent. It was softer than the twang she’d grown up hearing in her native Tennessee – more lilting, melodic – irresistible. When he spoke, she felt the heat of the Deep South tingling in her veins, warming her from the inside out.
“Morning.” She blinked, straining to make out his form as her sock feet slid against the floorboards. He was at the other side of the kitchenette – cooking, from the smell of it. As the scents teased her, memories from the night before drifted back to her, blurry around the edges, just like him.
His arms around her, the warm press of his body against hers in the dark…
She hadn’t meant to fall asleep after he’d left to warn Jack and Mandy about the rude tourists, but the search for the missing hiker had exhausted her and she’d lain down on the bed to rest…
Disappointment lanced through her consciousness, sharp and stabbing. She’d been burning for him when he’d left, after they’d been interrupted. How could she have fallen asleep?
He’d joined her in bed, but they’d only slept – she barely remembered him coming in and lying down beside her.
“Why don’t you pull up a chair and have some breakfast? Coffee’s done brewing.” Michael motioned toward the coffee maker, which she could barely make out.
“I’ve got to put in my contacts first.” She headed to the bathroom, where she’d stored her lenses in a drawer beneath the sink. Once she had them in, she could see clearly.
And there was a lot to look at. She sucked in a breath as she walked back into the kitchen, eyeing Michael as he slid several strips of bacon onto a plate. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt that clung to his frame of lean muscle, showcasing his athletic body. He’d stayed up late and risen early – their extended hike the day before hadn’t even winded him.
She, on the other hand, felt the resulting burn in her calves and thighs, even after a decent night’s sleep. It was the price of being human … and forty-nine.
“How did it go at Jack and Mandy’s last night – did those tourists show up?”
Michael nodded. “Yeah. Showed up and pitched a big fit. That Gus Oliver idiot had called Jack’s boss demanding a cabin. The guy told him this mountain’s been busy lately, but he could stop by and ask Jack if anyone had left early. He knew Cabin Number 4 would be empty soon, so…”
Michael’s broad shoulders rippled as he shrugged, clearly irritated. “Jack told them there were no cabins available. Gus didn’t take it too well, but there was no blood spilled.” He shrugged again, like that was the best possible outcome anyone could’ve hoped for.
“Talk about rude,” Kimberly said, irritation flaring inside her as she thought back to the night before and what the tourists had interrupted. If it hadn’t been for them, she and Michael wouldn’t have stopped, wouldn’t have spent the night merely sleeping. Maybe then she would’ve woken feeling satisfied – happy – instead of disappointed in herself.
“Yeah. Two eggs or three?”
“Two.” She rose, made her way to the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t nineteen anymore, like she had been when she’d first met Michael at King’s Whiskey Grille, the bar where she’d waited tables and he’d performed with his guitar. She wasn’t twenty, either, like she had been when he’d disappeared. She was far from it.
“You sure? We’ve got plenty.”
“I’m sure.” She sipped her coffee and watched him crack two eggs, the roped muscles and sinews in his forearms shifting as he moved, just as strong as they had been then. Stronger, even – he’d been young then too, and had filled out some since then, though he still retained the same athletic grace that had attracted her to him in the first place.
He’d spent years on the run, locked in combat, while she’d lived as a thoroughly human single mother in the city. There was no question who was in better shape – she was still slim, thanks to the tall and lean family genes she’d inherited, but after the night before, surely he’d realized that she wasn’t the girl he’d fallen in love with ages ago in Nashville.
Deep down, she’d known that all along, but after a confusing, almost magical week spent in the mountains with him, it hurt to feel reality being driven home.
“Here you go.” He served up two scrambled eggs. “Just how you like ‘em, right?”
She nodded, eyeing the dark flecks of pepper that dotted the fluffy yellow mound. “Thanks.”
It was flattering that he remembered how she liked her eggs, though if he recalled such a mundane detail about her, surely he remembered everything – the young woman she’d been, and how she was different now.
“I know you like tomatoes fried up on the side,” he said, settling at the table with a plate of his own. “We didn’t have any, but I can make a run to the store later today – pick up some to have on hand for tomorrow.”
She shifted in her chair as another uncomfortable reality zoomed to the forefront of her mind. “Tomorrow’s Sunday – I have to head back to Nashville, you know. I have work on Monday.”
She’d taken a chunk of time off for Mandy’s wedding; her time in the Great Smoky Mountains was just about at an end. She’d tried not to think about that too much over the past few days – being reunited with Michael had been all-consuming, enough to drive thoughts of the life she’d built without him from her mind.
“Mmph.” Michael made a sound of acknowledgement, if not understanding, as he raised a cup of black coffee to his lips. “Almost forgot.”
That probably wasn’t true, but maybe he’d only wanted to forget, just like she had.
“You know…” she said, summoning all the courage she had, forcing herself to address the subject. The city loomed in her thoughts just like the mountains and Michael loomed in her heart, and in some subconscious corner of her mind, she had given the matter of her departure some thought. “Maybe it would be best if—”
Her phone rang, vibrating against the nearby counter and filling the air with a familiar melody. Thinking instantly of Mandy, she rose.
“Hello?”
It was Mandy. Unlike last time, she hadn’t called at Jack’s behest, though she had called because of him.
“Are you sure?” Kimberly asked, taking in what her daughter was telling her. “That sounds … bizarre.”
“I’m pretty sure, mom. Jack’s getting really bent out of shape. I thought it might help if you and dad came over now. If you’re not busy, I mean. I know Jack’s planning on getting in touch with the entire pack, but I don’t want to risk Daniel being the first to arrive on the scene – I know he’s Jack’s beta, but he’s a real hothead, and Jack’s temper is already being tested. I don’t want to have to scrape Gus Oliver off the ground and explain to the police why he’s been beaten senseless.”
“Okay.” Kimberly eyed her breakfast regretfully. “We’ll be right over.”
CHAPTER 4
Leaves crunched under Michael’s paws, the soft noise discernible to his hyper-sensitive ears. The film crew at the bottom of the ridge didn’t hear a thing – their human senses were too weak, and it’d be just about impossible to hear anything over Gus Oliver’s manic squawking.
Yeah, he was in the woods, stalking Gus Oliver and his crew. It was a far cry from tracking shifter hunters, but the watching and waiting – the suspicion tingling in his bones as a breeze swept through his fur, causing it to ripple against his spine – were familiar.
“Over here, Alex! Nobody gives a shit about the roots of a freaking maple tree. Keep the camera trained on me!” Gus’ voice echoed through the forest.
“Ash,” said the tall redheaded man who’d been with Gus the night before.
Gus’ already red face darkened, going almost puce. “What’d you call me?”
“Ash,” Alex said, slowly swiveling his camera on its tripod, an expression of distaste on his face as he trained the thing on Gus. “The tree is an ash, not a maple.”
Gus threw a hand in the air. “Whatever. What are you – a freaking boy
scout? Just do your job. Where’s Serena?”
The dark-haired girl from the night before scuttled into view, standing squarely in the middle of the clearing where the hiker’s body had been found.
“Get me a towel, will you?” Gus wiped his brow with the back of his fist, sighing as Serena turned to do his bidding. Seconds later, he was scrubbing his forehead with a towel. It wasn’t too warm out, but he seemed to have worked himself into a sweat with all his yelling and gesturing.
According to Jack, Gus had gotten an early start on making an ass of himself by showing up in the woods with his entourage at just after sunrise … and trespassing on Half Moon Pack territory.
Michael had honestly feared he might have to intervene to prevent Jack from brutalizing Gus. The man had shown up at Jack’s doorstep the night before and thrown a fit over lack of cabin rentals on the mountain, then he’d returned a few hours later and lumbered onto private property with his cameras and crew.
There was no question about it – Gus was on Jack’s shit list. The film crew didn’t know it, but they were under heavy surveillance – Half Moon Pack surveillance. Glancing away from Gus and to his right, Michael eyed Jack, who managed to look pissed, even in his wolf form. Beside him, Daniel and Noah – his cousins – looked grim too.
They’d tracked the crew to this part of the woods, and Jack no longer seemed to care about avoiding the area. Sheltered by rock, trees and underbrush, they watched from one far side of the rocky ledge that formed the ridge the hiker had tumbled over.
“Ready yet?” Alex drawled as Serena spirited Gus’ sweaty towel away.
Gus nodded, took a deep breath and looked directly at the camera.
“We’re rolling.”
“Tennessee’s Great Smoky Mountains,” Gus began, speaking in a practiced monotone that was worlds away from his usual squawk. “Home to the country’s most visited national park … and something more. Lurking beyond the scenic trails frequented by millions of tourists each year is a danger no one saw coming until it was too late.
“Here where I stand, hiker Braden Spencer was found dead less than 24 hours ago. Driven to the edge of the drop-off above me, he fell … and was attacked. What drove Braden off the beaten path and over the edge? Clues left at the scene paint a terrifying picture. Bite wounds on Braden’s body and distinct paw prints left in the earth he died on have investigators scrambling for answers.
“As always, we at Monsters 24/7 are prepared to join the fray and expose what goes bump in the night. The hunt starts now. In 24 hours, we’ll know what, exactly, is killing tourists in the Great Smoky Mountains.”
Michael pricked his ears forward as Gus fell silent, breathing a sigh like a deflating balloon.
“Holy shit,” a familiar voice growled. “Are they serious?”
Michael glanced toward Daniel, who had shifted into his human form and wore an expression of disgust so intense it would’ve been comical, if Michael hadn’t felt the same way.
The lowest of growls rumbled in the pit of Jack’s chest, but it wasn’t directed toward Daniel – Jack’s golden eyes were still trained on Gus, alight with a hard gleam.
“Can’t freaking believe this…” Daniel shook his head hard, grimacing, and returned to his wolf form.
“All right.” Gus waved a hand from his place in the center of the clearing below the ridge. “Let’s get over to that campground so we can interview those tourists whose dog got in a scuffle with something last night.” He stomped forward gracelessly, bowling over a small sapling that snapped back up to whip him across the calf.
“Damn it!” he huffed as his entourage followed, careful not to make the same mistake.
As they filed away from the scene of the accident, it was apparent that there were five team members in all – Gus, Serena, Alex and two other men laden with technical equipment. They all seemed to be in a hurry, though their burdens slowed them down. It was easy to tail them, staying close enough to follow their conversation without being spotted.
Gus rambled about a campground, interviews and searches, his conversation peppered with obscenities and technical terms that sounded made-up. Michael hung on every word, not because he found it interesting, but because he knew he’d end up re-hashing it all with Jack and the others before long. The alpha was leading the way, the fur between his shoulder blades bristling with indignation that Michael could smell.
By the time the film crew reached the edge of the woods, they were all sweating beneath their loads. Only Gus carried nothing – even tiny Serena had been laden down with the duffel bag she’d pulled a towel from.
Jack led his cousins and Michael out of the woods a different way, leaving the film team at the turn-around spot they’d parked their SUV in. Moving at a run, it only took the wolves a couple minutes to dash down the mountain to Jack’s cabin, paws flying as the world passed by in a blur of orange and gold.
The pack females – and Kimberly – had gathered on the porch. They held mugs of what was presumably coffee, a plate of cookies sat balanced on the porch railing and Mandy had a magazine open in her lap. As soon as they noticed Jack and the others, they forgot their conversation and their drinks.
Mandy stood, rubbing the small of her back as her eyes shone with interest and a hint of worry.
The males filed inside, shifted and dressed in a flurry of jeans and t-shirts.
“Well?” Mandy appeared in the doorway, and the other females gathered behind her. “Did you guys figure out what on earth Gus and his crew are up to?”
Jack breathed a snort. “Yeah, we figured it out, all right.” Raising a hand to his face, he pressed his fingers to his temples and shook his head. “They’re filming some kinda show, here in the woods. Poking around and interviewing people, too.”
“Monsters 24/7,” Daniel added. “Anyone ever heard of it?”
For several moments, silence reigned.
“It sounds vaguely familiar…” Kimberly stepped forward, pursing her lips as she stood beside her daughter. “If I’m not mistaken, I think I might’ve glimpsed it scrolling through the TV guide channel. One of those shows that comes on real late at night in the middle of the week or something.”
Jack’s brow furrowed as he crossed his arms. “So it’s real then – really on TV?”
Kimberly shrugged. “I think so, but you’d better not take my word for it. I’d try to look it up on my phone, but the 3G coverage here is terrible.”
“I’ll look online.” Mandy strode across the room to where a computer was ensconced by a hutch in one corner.
“Here it is,” she said a minute later. “Monsters 24/7. It’s a TV show that comes on Thursday nights, just after Ghost Hunting Grannies. The site says they’re a specialist team dedicated to exposing what goes bump in the night. Looks kind of like one of those ghost hunting shows, only they search for monsters, and there’s a twist…”
She scrolled a little further. “Apparently they take tips on unusual happenings and rush to the scenes to perform 24 hour investigations. They try to figure out what happened and prove that a paranormal or cryptozoological creature was behind it within the span of a day.”
“Good lord.” Daniel shook his head. “What a load of—”
“Twenty-four hours, you said?” Jack interrupted.
“Yeah.” Mandy nodded.
“So all we gotta do is tail these idiots for one day and make sure they don’t stir up too much trouble.”
“They seem stupid enough to cause plenty of trouble in one day, if you ask me,” Daniel said, glowering.
“We’ll see.” Jack started for the door, gesturing toward Daniel, Noah and Michael. “You three come with me – I wanna see what they get up to at that campground, and find out where they’re heading after that.”
* * * * *
Normally, Michael wouldn’t have minded all the sneaking around. After decades of hunting prey far more dangerous than the clumsy Monsters 24/7 crew, he was used to it. Laying low in the woods that surrounded a bas
ic campground with tent lots spread among the trees was easy, and he didn’t feel particularly threatened now that they knew what Gus and his companions were all about. All he really wanted to do was get back to Kimberly, but…
Jack had asked him to come along, to accompany him, Daniel and Noah on the surveillance mission. And that mattered, because Jack was his daughter’s mate, the alpha of their pack. God knew that after the past twenty-nine years, he wanted to do whatever he could to get along with the family he’d had to abandon. So he listened, ears trained forward, picking up Gus Oliver’s every word.
“Dog has a chunk taken out of its ear,” Gus said, leaning against the SUV as the four others lingered nearby, a captive audience. “This is a goldmine. I called in a vet, and we’ll get a quick quote from her, then finish the interview segment. She should be here in twenty minutes.”
“Did the campers even see anything?” Alex asked, glancing over his shoulder toward the nearest campsite, his expression doubtful.
A family of four was gathered by a tent, and a mutt of indeterminate heritage lay on a dog bed by its entrance, gnawing on a rawhide bone. From the wolves’ hiding place behind a screen of pines, Michael could just make out a notch in the creature’s left ear.
“They damn well better have seen something,” Gus said. “They were right there in the tent with the dog staked outside, and spilling their guts is the least they can do in exchange for a free vet visit.” Gus shook his head at Alex. “Seriously, you’ve been a part of this crew for a year and have filmed dozens of hicks like these blabbing in front of the camera. People are always itching for their fifteen minutes of fame. This—” Gus clapped his hands together, then rubbed them vigorously “—will be a piece of cake. Just point and shoot, Alex – point and shoot.”
Alex shot Gus a glance that would’ve been fatal, if looks could kill.
Gus was oblivious, already barking instructions at Serena. Alex wandered off to mess with a camera, and Gus spent the next twenty minutes generally micromanaging the rest of the crew, until the vet arrived.