by Mikea Howard
Oh, ducky. Not only will I be makin’ sure we aren’t caught by the Animal Gang on the ground, but I’ll be scannin’ the skies the entire time too.
From below, the bear’s call signaled their departure. Excitement at the coming search and discovery had goosebumps raising under Dottie’s feathers.
Or would they be larkbumps?
Tim’s mirth pressed against her consciousness. Dottie didn’t know if birds blushed, but the heat in her beak and breast suggested they did. She should learn to control her idle pondering while in shifted form to avoid more embarrassing moments.
Roof after roof rolled beneath them. Tipping her head, she searched the ground for the enforcers. Her poor night vision combined with their stealth made it impossible to find them. Her pulse sped.
Tim.
Yes, love, I still catch glimpses of them. We’re on the right path.
Dottie sighed and it came out a warbling song.
A solid object slammed into her from behind. The graze of razor sharp talons passed through the feathery tips of her wings. Spinning, she fought to regain her balance in flight. An updraft braced her, enough to observe the largest owl she’d ever laid eyes on . . .
And it turned back toward her. The attacker flapped furiously as it dove again, toes first, talons spread wide.
Panicking, she searched for Tim, shocked when his large dark shape struck the interloper from above. The two gigantic birds became a ball of screeching and clawing as Dottie fluttered about, unsure what to do.
Her eagle’s rapid descent, powering them down toward the ground, suggested he had no intention of stopping. Regardless of his connection to the horned god, the impact would have to be deadly. Tim and the owl fell to only thirty feet from the ground. The tigress’s roar shook the area as Tim tore himself from his opponent, struggling to gain lift.
The brown streaked owl—with the wingspan of a car—righted itself, its line of sight locked onto her man. Its wings pumped once, then a blur of black and yellow shot from a tree. The big cat caught the bird in its maw, taking it the rest of the way down.
Leo’s golden form emerged from the shadows. Lifting his head, he regarded them, shaking his mane.
Dottie made her way down to meet up with Tim, assuming they would land. Instead, he caught an updraft, meeting her halfway.
Tim’s voice pressed into her mind. Leo wants us to continue on. They’ll handle the rogue owl, then catch up.
It wasn’t a normal bird, but a shifter?
Yes.
His curt reply hinted he’d prefer to curb discussing it for now.
Within minutes the powerful smell of cattle almost knocked her out of the sky. They maneuvered upwind to remain undetectable. The eye-watering stench had her speculating the AG goons wouldn’t have detected them even if they’d walked right through the yards. Coasting over the meandering Kansas River, she scanned the shore.
Excitement exploded, and she could barely control her communication. There. Over there. The cluster of trees ta our right.
Chapter 20
For the first time in her adult life, Dottie couldn’t care less about ruining her manicure. Clawing at the grass, dirt and rocks, she had to find Gramps’ box. It lay buried beneath her, and its call burned through her skin.
Without a word, Tim sidled up beside her, lending a hand. Scooping fistfuls of earth, he made more headway than her. Exposing a large stone, he dug it free, hoisting it aside.
Gasping, Dottie’s filthy fingers flew to her cheeks. Under the stone sat a metal box. Her hands shook as she reached for it.
He leaned over the hole. “Let me.”
As he reached past her, she spotted the fresh scars peppering his arms, answering a question she’d chewed over. Does what happens ta Shifters in their magical form cross over ta their human form?
From the second he’d stepped foot into her life, her selfless man had taken care of her.
Brushing Tim’s shoulder, she stopped him. “Thank you . . . for everythin’.” Moving into him, Dottie placed a kiss on his cheek.
Pivoting, he pressed his lips to hers. Pulling away with a twinkle in his eye he professed, “Forever and always, Na-qui-si.”
Returning to his task, Tim gripped the handles and lifted. The strain and tension in his neck and jaw emphasized the true weight of what Dottie would have struggled to remove. With a twist of his torso he dropped it onto the grass.
Positioning herself cross-legged before the metal case, Dottie pulled the locket out from under her blouse. With a pop, she opened it, dumping the hidden treasure into her palm. Rolling the brass between her thumb and finger, she stared at the lock. The complete comprehension of what might happen crashed down on her.
Sliding the key into the latch, she felt it pause halfway. Trading it with a stick, she worked the packed dirt free. Two quick, hard breaths blew the remaining dust out of her way. When she tried the key again the clasp released with ease.
Her stomach sank. More rocks filled the space within. Had someone beat her to it? Grasping each one, Dottie threw them as far as she could. Plop, splash. Some made their way into the river. Staring at the steel bottom of the empty case, tears of anger rolled down her cheeks.
Baron’s deep voice came from behind. “It’s a false bottom. We have the same strongbox.” Squatting next to her, he turned the case upside down and struck it on the ground.
Items tumbled out. Papers, pictures, and thin leather-bound books. Rifling through them, her fingers froze above an image. A three, maybe four-year-old Dottie rode her grandfather’s shoulders as her grandmother, eyes tight in concern, gazed up at the precariously perched child. Arms raised high, the glee spread across her young self’s face melted her hard, adult exterior.
Unparalleled love flowed between the three of them.
She brushed away tears of joy with the back of her hand.
Baron pointed at the photograph. “Is that you?”
“Yes, and my grandparents.” Turning her regard to the bear, she gasped and switched her attention on the pile at her knees. “Um, yer still naked.”
His deep, rolling laugh rose and receded with him as he departed.
Dottie rifled through the documents. “Here it is. Their Last Will and Testament.”
Tucked neatly inside she found a small book, the name of her hometown bank embossed on its cover. Cracking it open she flipped through the pages.
The last entry contained a number she couldn’t comprehend.
~ ~ ~
Tim, scanning the items from over her shoulder, knew she studied a bank book. He remained stuck on the photograph of a toddler Dottie with her grandparents, the absolute delight on the faces of the family. His woman had gifted him with the same elation since the moment they met. She had been made to spread joy and light to everyone in her vicinity.
The levity of his responsibility sank in. The treasure the fates placed in his care, the woman who’d stand by his side for the rest of their days, made him the luckiest man in the world. Especially since he’d balanced on the edge of the abyss before he’d found her. Still lost in introspection, pondering his good fortune, she slapped his leg.
“Tim, whaddya suppose these numbers are?”
Moving in closer, he got a better view. “Either a safe deposit box, or the balance in their account.”
Leaning to the side to meet his eyes, she smirked. “Break it up, I ain’t a tomato. Stop pullin’ my chain.”
“What?”
“There’s no way, take a gander at all those numbers . . . it’d be in the millions.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “Why aren’t you laughin’?”
Sheri stepped into view. “We gotta get outta here. You two okay with us carrying what your family left you?” Opening her neck sac, the carry-all Weres used to transport items i
n their animal form, she held it out. “We aren’t sure how many flyers they have out. You’ll be faster unencumbered.”
Raising his eyebrow, he gave what he hoped translated as a questioning look.
With a smile, Dottie nodded in his direction. “Okay, we’re meetin’ back at the safehouse?”
He helped her pack everything from the lockbox into the weretiger’s bag, searching the ground around them to be sure nothing remained. His mate’s grandfather thoughtfully placed everything here for her to find. Pulling the key from the lock, he handed it to her. Even if she’d never use it again, the emotional tie or sentimentality made him grab it.
Putting it back in the locket, Dottie planted a kiss to his lips and shifted. Thank you, Tim. I may have forgotten it.
Spying the tiger’s tail as she ran off, Tim took his eagle form. I’m glad to do anything for you. You ready?
Yes, do you think there’re more rogue owls out there?
I’m not sure, but stay close. We’ll make a straight shot to the hideout. He gave her a moment to take to the air and followed her in flight.
Keeping an eye out, nothing nefarious came for them. They made it more than halfway before he sensed anything nearby.
While sending his thoughts to Dottie, he swept in the direction of the rogue ruffling his feathers. Keep going. I’ll be right behind you.
Circling around, he glimpsed a hawk. Shocked by the fact any healer would work for the AG, he didn’t stop to question. Diving across the night sky, Tim aimed straight for the charlatan, swiping its wings with his talons. The screeching call, fading in the distance, made it clear he’d met his mark.
Sweeping back around, a glimmer of metal caught his eye. The rogue had mecha, mechanical enhancements popular with dieselheads, along its legs. He’d never spied a bird shifter with them, because their bodies shrank as animals. Praying the hawk hadn’t added a gun to his talons, Tim slammed into him and flew straight up. As he hoped, the traitor spun a few times, nearly dropping from the sky, and headed his direction once righted . . . away from his songbird.
Dottie, do not turn back. Go to the safehouse. I’ll meet you there.
Are you okay?
Yes, but I have to be sure we don’t lead the AG to our location.
Shifting off to one side, he checked how far the rogue followed behind him. The mecha slowed his adversary’s flight, allowing him to gain more distance than expected. Tim assured he kept in sight of the Animal Gang operative, but far enough that the dieselhead enhancements couldn’t be used on him. He assumed once he drew the rogue out far enough, he could gain adequate distance in a switchback to lose him.
Tim’s assumption paid off when he swung below their flight plan, and he chose a circuitous route which took the operative a detrimental amount of time to recognize. Tim made certain he had miles on his assailant, then headed back toward the safehouse. He even circled a few times in case anyone spied on his landing.
Touching down close to the house, he scanned the area for enemies, above who might have watched him land. As soon as he entered the house, Dottie wrapped her arms around him.
“I tried ta check on you before I shifted back and didn’t get any response. I’ve never been so worried.”
Meeting her lips with his own, he kissed her gently. “I guess I flew too far to communicate. I’m sorry I scared you.”
Sheri cleared her throat. “The AG doesn’t seem to know Dottie is here, they’re still guarding the same locations. You’ll have more time than you expected.”
“But they saw me.”
Sheri snapped her teeth. “No Dottie, the one who saw you won’t be reporting back to anyone.”
Baron cut in. “If you want your tour bus, we have a couple operatives still in Black Diamond. The AG outpost there is still running strong. I’m sure you shouldn’t go into town.” Flipping through his maps on the coffee table, he pointed at two intersecting lines on the page. “Aha, here it is. If they move your bus here, you can take it wherever you’re headed. You do know how to drive, right?”
Tim shook his head. He’d never had a moment in his life where he’d ever even considered driving any of those things. The REG and rogues were likely the only ones who would choose to. Although he supposed a lot of the shifters who lived in the city might as well. Molly and her family used them sometimes.
“I’ll teach you,” Dottie said. “Only if you wanna learn. And if yer okay with travelin’ in a land yacht. Plus, there’s the option ta leave it in the nearest city and fly ta wherever there aren’t roads. But if you doan’ . . . it’s okay.” She stared down at her hands, wringing them.
Tim had some discomfort with the idea of traveling in a vehicle, which she must have sensed. Her nervous fiddling made him pause. He knew she loved her bus, she earned it with her own talents. She can’t be saying she’ll leave it if I want her to. I’ll learn to drive. I’d never expect her to give up anything for me.
“I’d like for you to teach me.”
Her smile held relief. “Good.” Glancing back to the werebear she asked, “Isn’t it a bit of a giveaway though?”
Leo chuckled and answered for his friend. “I guess we forgot to mention it’ll have to be repainted. I suggested apple red, but Sheri here believes the bus would be too conspicuous. We have a team who’ll do it as soon as we give word.”
The weretiger rolled her eyes. “I put your things in the back bedroom. You two should get a little rest and head out whenever you’re ready. You’re free to eat anything you find in the kitchen as well.”
~ ~ ~
Tim woke, arms wrapped around Dottie, his head in her hair. Taking a deep breath, he laid a soft kiss to her neck. “Big day today.”
She rolled toward him, snuggling into his chest. “It’ll be a ducky day when we’re able ta stay in bed, with nothin’ ta do.” Releasing him with a sigh, she flipped onto her belly, resting on her elbows.
Kissing her forehead, Tim heaved himself off the mattress. He threw on his clothes, and tossed a dress to her. Grabbing their bag, he double checked the treasure remained safely tucked in there.
In addition to the bankbook, her grandfather left messages and pictures, things she’d likely pore over for days. He looked forward to doing it with her, and learn even more about his woman.
Parting ways with their new friends, he couldn’t thank them enough.
The REG would be in touch soon to gather any additional information they found in Grampa Tom’s papers. They agreed to give Dottie time to look through it at her own pace.
Baron rolled up a few maps for them. With their gifts safely packed away, they shifted and took to the sky.
Flying back toward Black Diamond, Tim hoped they’d made a good decision. He attributed the miles of silent travel to them trying to process everything they’d experienced in such a short amount of time. Even quiet, her presence resounded with him. As though all these years he’d crossed these skies missing something important; Dottie by his side.
Look, Tim. We have ta stop here for a moment.
Catching sight of what she intended, the leaves waved with a gentle breeze below. Where it all started, the magical gift of their tree, the one responsible for bringing them together.
Let’s do it. He screeched and circled around, landing at the base.
She perched beside him, shifting to human with him.
“Is it safe for us ta touch it, I mean without gettin' pulled ta the in-between?”
Grabbing her hand, Tim stepped close to lay his hand on the trunk. “I believe it’s already completed its task, it brought us together.”
“She saved our lives, didn’t she?” Dottie grinned, gently patting the smooth wood.
“I believe so.” Resting his forehead against hers, he met her eyes. “We’ll show her we’re worth it. Let’s get our n
ew life started.”
~ ~ ~
Catching a glimpse of Guatimozin disappearing in the sky, the horned god puffed with pride. His faithful servant, with his phenomenal mate, the only female worthy of his eagle. He crossed to the in-between. Resting his palm on the bark, the horned god spoke. “Thank you, fae.”
The tree moved beneath his palm.
“I know it’s what you do, but I’m willing to do you a favor for your assistance.”
While the Soul Mate Tree didn’t speak, she sent a bombardment of images to him. Love found throughout time and worlds and the impression that she still had more people to connect.
“But I can free you.”
His goddess consort materialized before him. “Are you trying to cheat, my love?”
“No,” he scoffed. “I’m simply thanking the fae tree for her intervention . . . at her own will.”
“Oh, I’m sure you may have whispered in her ear, but I do know if she acted, it was necessary.”
Glancing up to Gaia, the absolute purpose to his world, he responded, “Tim needed her.”
She smiled. “I know, dear. I love you, and I love how you care for our people. Tim is part of me, just as my people reside in you.”
Peering at her from the corner of his eye, in an exasperated tone he chided, “I know of your meddling too, woman.”
“Pish.” She fluttered her fingers about, as though waving his admonishment away. “I only gave her a little gift.”
Although the grand tree had given her final answer, he still turned to ask, “You want nothing for yourself?”
The swaying fairy tree twisted its upper branches.
“You’re sure your work isn’t done?” He scratched at his chin, causing the beads in his beard to click together.