by V. Vaughn
Austin shrugged with an easy grin. “What can I say? He’s a work in progress.” Tossing a wave over his shoulder, he led his guys off into the night.
“Right. Who wants to hunt a cat?” At Owen’s question, everyone broke into a run.
Snow crunched under my paws, cold and crisp, as we searched for the scent trail. Only Daryl had remained in human form, having drawn the short straw, and was carrying the bag with our clothes. His low grumbles filtered through the steady gusts of snow that were drifting down off the neighboring mountain, wind whipping around his face and turning his cheeks red. We’d fanned out to cover the south perimeter of the field and were making slow progress.
I snorted to dislodge snow that had gone up my nose. It would have made sense for one of the bears to at least have shown us where they’d picked up the trail. A trail that was fast being hidden by the latest sprinkling.
Fuck that. We didn’t need them. We were—
Grant’s triumphant yip had us racing over. He was digging at the snow, as if searching for something.
“Come on, put your back into it.” Daryl smirked as he crouched down next to us.
Grant’s head lurched up, his growl almost comical as he glared at our teammate with a white covered face. His wolf was black with silver flecks—mirrored by his hair in human form—and with the snow it looked like he’d finally gone grey. In his teeth was a glint of gold.
“Interesting…” Daryl reached out and plucked it out of Grant’s mouth, holding it up in the moonlight. “A bracelet.” He held it to his nose, inhaling. “Definitely our rogue kitty.” He held it out so we could each catch the scent.
Pine trees and spiced apple filled my nose and instinct roared through me, blood thundering in my ears as my world narrowed down, tunneling, until I could only focus on one thing.
My fated mate. Exhilaration and awe flooded me.
I shifted without thought and grabbed the bracelet off Daryl, who let out a surprised shout.
“What the fuck, man?”
“She’s…” I couldn’t speak, the words sticking in my throat. Finally, I forced something out, “This woman. We need to find her.” My mate was out there alone. In the snow. Without shelter or protection. She could be injured or scared or—
“Easy, there.” A hand clamped down on my shoulder and I knew without looking it was Owen, his aura pressing against me, bringing a wave of calm. “Want to tell us what’s going on?” He was on edge, tense and wary.
My hand tightened around the bracelet, until the charms dug into my skin. I closed my eyes, letting a little of the earlier exhilaration seep back in. I will find her. “She’s my fated mate.”
“The cat?” At the note of doubt in Daryl’s voice, I snarled, ready to launch myself at him.
Owen grabbed my head, locking eyes with me. “Congratulations, brother.”
“I didn’t mean anything, man.” Daryl sounded contrite. “I was just shocked. You know I don’t have anything against inter-species matings. It’s just that fated matings are rare and … yeah. Shocked, man.”
Blowing out a breath, I gave myself a mental slap. A quick glance at the faces surrounding me—who were all human by now—confirmed Daryl wasn’t the only one feeling it. “I know. I’m shocked, too.” Astounded. Thankful. Terrified.
Owen cleared his throat, giving me a slap on the shoulder. “Let’s go find your mate, then.”
2
Julie
“How’d it go tonight?”
I unwound my scarf as I simultaneously toed off my boots, leaving them to melt on the doormat. Turning in the direction of the voice, I gave the pile of blankets my full attention, rounding the couch to greet Ester with a kiss on the cheek. After shoving some of the blankets to one side, I dropped down beside her, tilting my head to one side as I mused over my reply. “Productive,” I finally said. “Eighteen in total.”
Ester smiled, her cheeks taking on a pleased hint of pink. “Did you have enough?”
I tapped her ankle with my hand, still humming with the thrill of the night. It had been cold out, but beautiful, the snow casting the normally bleak landscape with a touch of magic. “Barely, but they were happy enough.” And so they should be. “How are you feeling?”
As expected, her answer to the dreaded question was an eye roll and a grunt, but the healthy flush to her cheeks had already faded, as if it had been a trick of the light.
“You didn’t have to wait up for me,” I chided, taking one of her hands in mine and giving it a squeeze. Gentle. I had to be so, so gentle.
“Course I did.” Ester shuffled herself around in her nest, until she mostly sat up, waving off my motion for her to stay still and relax. “I’m pregnant, not dead.”
“You’re meant to be on bedrest.”
“Bed, couch, whatever.” She made a rude noise. “The same four walls all the time gets boring. It’s not like junior here has to stay put any longer.” She patted her swollen stomach affectionately, then gave it a poke. “You hear me? Any day, whenever you’re ready.”
“The doctors said that it would be best—”
“And all the pregnancy books—all seventeen that you brought home, read from cover to cover, then forced me to read from cover to cover—say that the baby is viable now.” She gave me a smile that was more teeth than lips. Some days, I’d swear that woman was more shifter than myself, but she smelled 100% human. I was guessing that a great, great, great grandmother had hooked up with a handsome virile shifter back in the day.
I snorted, kicking my feet up and resting them on the coffee table. “You’re the one that’s pregnant; of course you needed to read them.”
“Viable,” she mouthed at me, giving me the thumbs up.
“Such a good incubator,” I cooed, earning a slap to the hand. “When will Mac be home?” Ester’s husband worked shifts at the local fire station. My girl had snagged herself a big, strong fireman for a husband. One who doted on her and didn’t mind rubbing her feet. Yeah, I was jealous. Foot rubs were my catnip. Oh, and gooseberry jelly, which I had decided had to be a cat thing, since nobody else I knew almost orgasmed at the taste. I said almost. Okay, leaving the orgasmic jelly aside and diverting attention back to Mac. He also said that she was still the sexiest woman on the planet, despite being the size of a whale—her words, not mine, and definitely not his. On threat of never ending dirty diaper duty, I had performed the shifter sniff test and confirmed that he spoke the truth, to which she had snuggled him to death. I had snuck away and played very loud music. With ear plugs. And a pillow over my head.
Pregnancy made Ester loud. With everything.
I’d spent the evening re-assessing how cold it was outside and whether it would really be a bad idea to sleep in a barn. It was a regular evening occurrence since taking up Ester and Mac’s offer of a spare room, something that I’d only meant to be temporary, just until I could figure out a plan of action.
Four months later and I still had nothing. Nada. Zilch. Tumbleweeds drifting.
I was a shifter in hiding and, with my previous landlord having run off to join one of those settlements, like a good little shifter, I’d lost my home. The government had swooped in and—wham, bam, no thank you ma’am—the building was sold, money sent on to Mr. Gerry the Landlord, and eviction notices had been served.
They’d also looked a little too closely at all of the tenants. Oh, and Gerry had left a letter outing some of us, so I’d legged it across state lines and joined my best friend Ester, who’d be nagging at me to come visit for ages. And Mac. Couldn’t forget Mac.
Geez. At least my ear drums had been getting a rest lately, with the bed rest and all.
And soon there would be a crying baby to look forward to.
“Julie?” Ester sounded like it wasn’t the first time she’d called my name.
I gave myself a shake to try and get rid of my funk. Wow. Wallowing much? And, yeah, jealousy left a bitter aftertaste, even if it was only because I was so goddamn lonely and not becaus
e I resented my friend. Not one bit. I was happy for her. I blinked, my eyes having fallen shut at some point. Flashing her a weak smile, I yawned. “Sorry, just tired.”
“Mac’ll be home in the morning.”
“Wow. Has it been four days already?” He worked four on, four off, sleeping on a bunk at the station during shift.
“Yeah.” Her answer was soft, tinged with a worry that never went away. But that was the life of a fireman’s wife.
I slid my arm around her, tilting over until my head rested on her belly. “Maybe you can pop this one out, hmmm? Since you’re now viable.”
“I was thinking about trying to hold out, ya know?” She sounded sleepy, her fingers sifting through my hair. She was going to be a good mom.
“For what? An invitation?”
“Christmas, silly.”
I leaned back until I could look her in the eye. “That’s two weeks away.”
“I’ll keep my legs shut.”
“Mac’ll be disappointed.”
“He’ll live, he’s a big boy.”
“Size isn’t everything.”
“Said every man with a tiny dick.”
We smirked at each other. “Preach.”
I rested my head back down and she resumed stroking my hair. See, mom of the year material, right there. “Honey, I hate to break it to you but I don’t think closing your legs will keep junior in situ. It doesn’t work like that.”
“What if I suck in my stomach at the same time?”
“Hmmm…”
“And flex my abs?”
I snort chuckled.
“Stick my legs in the air?”
“How about performing a handstand?”
“My boobs would suffocate me.”
I shrugged. “I’m sure Mac would help you out with that little problem.”
She slapped me on the arm and pouted. “Hey, they’re not little anymore.”
Rolling my eyes, I chuckled. Turning onto my back, I stared up at her. “You’re going to be a good mama.”
All at once, her eyes looked dangerously close to leaking and she sniffed. “You’re the best friend ever.”
“Love you too, honeybun.” Ester was the only family I had left. We’d grown up together, our houses sitting side by side, even went to the same school. When she’d met Mac and moved, it had been like losing an arm, but I’d survived. I’d had my apartment and my cafe, a life I’d built up. Even the occasional boyfriend. Until, one morning I’d woken up and the world had changed.
She sighed, patting my head. “Don’t think about it, Julie. It’ll all work out.”
“Hmmmm?” So what if I sounded disillusioned? So far, life had chewed me up and spit me out.
“Fate has plans for you.” She even put on a spooky voice, trying to sound ominous. Her wicked grin spoiled the effect, along with her cackle of laughter. “Seriously, everything will die down soon.”
Rolling onto my side, I picked at one of her blankets. “Just gotta keep on hiding, right?”
She took a deep breath, her next words coming out in a rush. “Or you could go to one of the shifter towns.”
I frowned. “Ester, I’m not leaving you—”
“And I don’t want you to.” She sounded firm. “But don’t you want to…” Her voice trailed off, unsure.
I decided to ignore what she might have said. “I don’t know how to be around other shifters, you know that.” My mom had been human and my dad, an ocelot shifter, had died a couple of years after I’d been born. I’d been raised human.
“You’ve spent a lot of time with shifters over the last year.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I’ve met up with groups and provided aid. Not joined their packs or clans or whatever they like to call themselves.”
“And you haven’t sampled the goodies, either.” She fanned herself. “It was hardly surprising that a good percentage of the handsome, virile male population turned out to be shifters if you really think about it.” Her gaze took on a dreamy look. “All that power packed into hard, muscular bodies … mmmmm.”
I snorted and pretended to mop up her drool. “You’ve got Mac and he’s a tank.”
She smirked. “He’s my tank.”
I jumped off the couch and offered her a hand up. “So, stop ogling my hard, muscular shifter body and get yourself off to bed. It’s late.”
It didn’t take much to help her up off the couch, thanks to the aforementioned muscles, and once she was steady I made a beeline for the kitchen to collect some of her much loved anti-acids. “Strawberry or mint tonight?” I called over my shoulder.
“Either. The way I’m going to down it, it won’t touch the sides. Shame I can’t get it intravenously.”
I was reaching for a bottle when someone banged on the front door.
“I’ll get it.” Ester waved me back as she waddled toward the door. Even though most of her neighbors knew me now, we still tried to mitigate the risks by not having me answer the door. That didn’t stop me from hovering in the background, ready to jump in and help if she needed it.
She peered through the peephole and made a weird sound. It sounded suspiciously like a squeak.
“Who is it?” I hissed in a low whisper. It was a bit late for visitors.
The knock sounded again and she turned to look at me, a strange expression on her face. Her eyes darted to my wrist, then widened. “Your charm bracelet.”
I reached for it and found bare skin. When? Grief welled up inside me, but I squashed it back down, putting it aside to deal with later. The knock sounded again. I strained my hearing, picking up on low murmurs.
More than one person.
A low growl drifted through the air. It sounded … hungry.
Saliva dried in my mouth as I froze, my brain circling around and around as I tried to connect with the fact that a group of shifters stood outside our front door.
Group of shifters.
Our front door.
This couldn’t be happening. I’d been so careful.
Ester shrugged. “I think it’s for you.” She didn’t offer any other explanation before opening the door with a big smile.
3
Tom
The door swung open to reveal a heavily pregnant woman who was grinning from ear to ear. My hand had been raised, in mid-air ready to knock again, so I quickly returned it to my side. I rearranged my face in an attempt at civility. “Good evening,” I managed to get out before the scent of my mate hit me full force.
My knees locked as a full body shudder hit me, lips parting and eyes closing against the wave of need that shot through me.
“Your eyes!” gasped the woman who was still barring my way.
My eyes had changed from their usual moss green to the silver of my wolf, as he rode close to the surface of my skin, searching for our mate.
Owen smoothly took over the conversation, deftly closing a hand over my arm and providing an anchor, holding me back. He flashed one of his easy going smiles. “We’re searching for a shifter and we tracked her to this house.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed, her hand still grasping the door like she could slam it in our faces the second she decided she didn’t like the look of us. She didn’t say a word, but her eyebrows arched, like two silent question marks.
“We mean her no harm,” Owen added, holding his free hand up and trying to look harmless.
Yeah, right. The woman wasn’t fooled, not for one second, if the way the corner of her mouth twitched. She also wasn’t scared, which was refreshing. The humans that we came across while on our outings usually fell into one of three categories: scared, prejudiced, or they had a weird, mildly disturbing infatuation with everything shifter. Think boil-a-bunny fanatics, and you wouldn’t be far off.
I cleared my voice, dislodging the rumble that was trying to escape. “I heard you.”
Her eyebrows were redirected at me. “Pardon?”
“You said ‘I think it’s for you’ before you opened the door.”
&n
bsp; I got a finger waved in my direction. “It’s rude to listen in on private conversations. Even if you’re super shifters, with your fancy hearing and amazing eyesight and big—”
“Ester!” Someone hissed from somewhere to the right of her.
Pregnant lady—now identified as Ester—shot a glare over her shoulder. “I was going to say sniffers!”
“No you weren’t!” the voice hissed again.
“I’m about to be a mom. My word is law.”
“That’s not how it works!” The hissing voice now sounded affectionate and like the owner was rolling her eyes.
The guys around me exchanged bemused glances, but I couldn’t get past the fact that it was her I was listening to. That she stood only a few feet away from me.
That she hadn’t invited me inside the moment she scented me. Or maybe she hadn’t had a chance? First, I had to find a way past Ester, the gatekeeper.
“We found this.” My hand jerked up, holding the charm bracelet.
Quick footsteps, then a woman emerged, her hand reaching for mine.
She had huge blue eyes and icy white blonde hair, which was mussed up like a halo around her delicate face. Standing a fair few inches shorter than my own 6’2”, she was soft in all the rights places, her hips swelling in a way that made me itch for a glimpse of her ass.
I inhaled, dragging her scent into my lungs. Ocelot shifter. This close, I could smell the distinct undertone that identified her exact lineage, though I’d never seen an ocelot before—shifter or wild animal. I resisted the urge to drag my phone out for a little Googling.
Her fingers caressed the chain in my hand, her eyes lifting to meet mine. They widened, the color swirling and lightening to a platinum silver, as opposed to my more gunmetal shade, her lashes brushing her cheeks as she blinked at me slowly.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Someone gave me a little shove and I somehow forced my voice to work. “Tom.” Okay, my voice was gravelly and somehow had been disconnected from my brain. Coughing, I tried again. “My name’s Tom.”