Grif (Tales of the Were - Redstone Clan)

by Bianca D'Arc

  Grif knew his eyebrow rose as the idea of a female being allowed to work with Jesse Moore’s group. The fact that Arlo had been careful to note that the woman was Jason Moore’s tracker didn’t escape Grif. She wasn’t part of the merc team that reported directly to Jesse. Instead, she was part of the larger Pack that answered to Jason, Jesse’s brother and Alpha of the Wyoming wolf Pack, of which Jesse’s group was part.

  “I’m going to hang with Matt in the barn, if you have no objection. Use that as my base of operation. I’m leading the four teams we brought. Logan’s leading his group and liaising with me. We figured you’d call the shots from in here and we’d report up to you. Is that okay?”

  “Perfect.” Grif agreed with the command structure they’d come up with. It would avoid confusion among the groups and allow Grif to coordinate the effort as a whole while the subordinate commanders organized their own teams.

  “All right then. I suggest you hole up here ‘til we have some news. I’ve got a feeling for these things and I expect something within the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”

  Grif had learned to trust Arlo’s feelings. He had a sort of sixth sense about when action would strike that was well documented among the small group of elite ex-Spec Ops shifters. If he said it was going down in certain time frame, ninety-nine percent of the time, it was going down within that period.

  In a way, Grif was relieved to know Arlo had one of his famous feelings about this situation. It was good to know that something would happen soon.

  In another way, it scared the shit out of him. This could all go sideways very easily. There were a lot of people in the field and any one of them could be hurt or killed trying to help. Or Timmons could somehow infiltrate too far and manage to hurt his family—again. Grif vowed not to let that happen, but he knew better than anyone that the bastard had skills. Grif tried not to take anything for granted.

  He shook Arlo’s hand as the other man made to leave. “Thanks for coming in on this so quickly. I owe you.”

  Arlo chuckled. “Just wait ‘til you see the bill.”

  Grif laughed with him, knowing that whatever the mercs charged for their fast response, it would be well worth it. These guys were the best of the best and it was a relief to know they were out there, helping guard his family.

  The rest of the day was spent indoors and when it came time to turn in, Grif made sure the second shift of watchers was on duty and ready before he tucked Belinda in for the night. He then went with Lindsey to their room, but he was too on guard to make love to her. Anything could happen at any moment. He didn’t want to be caught with his pants down and too caught up in his mate to protect his family.

  Lindsey hugged him and he knew she understood. She was on edge too, though they discussed how they needed to sleep so they’d be fresh and alert the next day. Grif was trusting to Moore’s guys to keep them safe through the night. He’d trusted them before and knew he needed to trust them now so he’d be rested when it came time for action.

  As it turned out, action came a lot sooner than he expected.

  “Red Alert.”

  Grif woke to the sound of Arlo’s soft voice in his ear. He hadn’t removed the earpiece and he could hear tension in the team leader’s voice as he spoke.

  It was about three in the morning. Grif and Lindsey had been sleeping, but he came instantly awake, careful of making too much noise. He had to figure out what was going on before he started stomping around. It was too late not to wake Lindsey. She was rubbing her eyes at his side as he sat up in bed. He scanned the dark room and found no immediate threat, so he took the chance to communicate with Arlo through the earpiece.

  “Sit rep,” he demanded in a low rumble.

  “My tracker just followed Timmons’ trail to your front door. I think he’s in the cabin. We’re moving in. Will enter from all points on the first floor.” Grif could hear the soft sounds of fast movement on the other end. “I’m sending men to the roof as well. They’ll be at every window within the next three minutes. Get ready.”

  “I’m going to check Belinda,” Grif reported, already out of bed and going for his weapon. He’d gone to sleep in his T-shirt and sweats. He’d be able to shift without too much trouble if he needed to and he had a loaded .357 Magnum in his night stand.

  A moment later it was in his hand as he headed for the hall. Belinda’s room was two doors down on the hall and he cursed the distance between them. He didn’t see anyone in the hall, so he moved closer on swift, silent feet, knowing Lindsey was following behind. He could smell the scent of fear and concern, but she was staying with him, showing more courage than he would have imagined.

  He didn’t really want her with him, but he also didn’t want to let her out of his sight. In the end, he figured it was better to have her where he could see her and handle any threats first-hand.

  A noise came from behind the closed door to the room on the other side of the hall. Grif stilled, motioning to Lindsey to continue on to Belinda’s room while he checked the noise.

  He waited ‘til she was past him to throw open the door and bring his weapon to bear. He checked himself, seeing one of Arlo’s guys entering a little too noisily through the window. Grif cursed. This guy had to be a newbie—or maybe just unlucky. He’d have words with him later. For now, Grif was just glad he hadn’t opened fire without checking who it was first.

  A scream pierced the night. Lindsey’s scream, coming from Belinda’s room.

  Grif cursed and ran for the child’s room, his heart in his throat.

  Lindsey had pushed open the door to Belinda’s room as quietly as she could, surprised to find it ajar. But then she realized someone was there before her. A man’s form stood over Belinda, looking down at the sleeping girl.

  And then she saw the knife.

  She screamed. She didn’t know what else to do. She screamed bloody murder, knowing Grif and everyone else would come running.

  As she screamed, she moved out of the doorway and into the room. Timmons turned to face her. It had to be him. Nobody else would be carrying an unsheathed knife in Belinda’s room.

  A number of things happened simultaneously. Belinda woke up and jumped into the corner of her bed, crouching and changing into her cat. Good girl. Timmons whirled toward Lindsey and raised the knife, stepping toward her.

  Then Grif ran into the room and took Timmons’ attention off Lindsey. Grif was followed by another big man, dressed all in black. Grif tackled Timmons while Lindsey went to Belinda, her cat form shaking in fear.

  While the men struggled in the small space, Lindsey looked for a way out. The men were blocking the doorway. That left only the window. She didn’t like it, but Grif had said cats were good climbers. Seemed like now was the moment to find out how much truth there was in that claim.

  Lindsey pushed the window open as quickly as she could and beckoned Belinda over. The little cat didn’t need any coaxing. As furniture crashed behind them and men cursed and growled, tearing up the place, Lindsey looked out to find Arlo on the roof along with two cougars she recognized as Matt and Steve.

  She pushed Belinda out the window first, then squeezed through the small opening herself, in human form. The roof was relatively wide at this point and not too pitched. She’d be able to cling to it for a little while. At least long enough for things to settle down inside Belinda’s bedroom.

  Arlo met her. He was in human form too. Belinda was rubbing up against Matt, both in cat form. Steve was heading toward the window at a fast clip. He clearly wanted in on the fight.

  “My men are below. They’ll help you down from the roof. Go with Freddy. He’ll take care of you,” Arlo instructed, handing her off to another human-shaped, black-clad operative.

  Lindsey was torn. She didn’t want to leave Grif, but she knew he wouldn’t want her anywhere near the bad guy. And there was Belinda to look out for.

  With a last look back at the dark window where crashing sounds could still be heard loud and clear, she follow
ed the man named Freddy toward the edge of the roof. She wasn’t quite sure how she was going to get down, but she watched Matt jump from one level of the roof to another, then to the porch roof, Belinda right behind him. Lindsey did the same, but wasn’t quite ready to jump off the porch roof the way the cougars had. She’d probably break a leg if she tried that in her human form and she wasn’t comfortable enough as a cougar yet to try it either.

  She sat on the edge of the porch roof, dangling her feet over the side. Looking down, it seemed much too far to the ground for her comfort.

  Freddy touched her shoulder. “I’ll go first and catch you. All you have to do is slide down. I’ll grab your legs and take you the rest of the way.”

  That sounded a lot better to her. Lindsey swallowed hard. “Thanks.”

  Freddy squeezed her shoulder once before hopping off the side. He landed on his feet, his knees bent to absorb the shock. He made it look so easy, but he was clearly a shifter, and had been his whole life. Lindsey didn’t know what her newly-changed body could and couldn’t do just yet. She wasn’t about to chance jumping off a roof anytime soon.

  She followed Freddy’s encouraging gestures and slid slowly off the roof. There was a scary moment where she was in freefall before the solid man caught her around the thighs and stopped her descent. True to his word, he lowered her carefully to the ground and she did her best not to let her knees buckle. She didn’t want to appear any weaker to these shifters than she already had.

  “Where’s Belinda?” she whispered, aware of the dark shapes of people and animals all around them. There were many men carrying weapons and kitted out like commandos. She could only assume those were the guys Grif had called, finally showing themselves en masse.

  “She’s with Matt, heading for the barn,” the man she knew as Freddy answered in a low, gruff tone. He pointed and Lindsey could easily see the small cougar in the shadow of the larger one, loping toward relative safety.

  “What about Grif?” Her thoughts turned to the chaos she’d left inside Belinda’s bedroom.

  She watched Belinda’s tail disappear into the dark opening of the barn door and breathed a sigh of relief, knowing she’d be safe for the moment. Then her gaze switched to the upper story of the house behind her. Grif was still in there. She looked over at Freddy and saw him touching his ear, probably to indicate he was listening in on whatever was going down inside. He had one of those little earpieces.

  “They’re coming out now,” Freddy reported after a slight pause. “Target is subdued.”

  A sigh of relief escaped her as she moved toward the house. She took Freddy’s words to mean they’d captured Timmons, not killed him. She thought that was the best result. Her new, inner cat wanted blood, but her human side was glad it hadn’t been spilled inside the house.

  The front door opened and the man she’d only seen in shadow in the bedroom came out snarling. Grif and Steve were right behind him. They had each held one of his hands and one shoulder as they marched him out the door.

  Lindsey stood watching and realized she’d made a big mistake as everything seemed to move into slow motion. She saw how close she was to the steps and tried to move back. Her movement must’ve captured the prisoner’s attention because his eyes locked with hers as he screamed. The scream started out human, but quickly morphed into the scratchy yowl of an enraged cougar.

  He shifted shape faster than she’d ever seen anyone change, slipping free of both Grif and Steve’s holds. Even encumbered by the shreds of his clothing hanging off his body, he was able to launch himself down the stairs, crashing into Lindsey on his way down.

  But she didn’t fall. She’d expected to be pinned under a cat. Instead, she was held in the hairy arms of a creature that was some kind of weird cross between a cat and a man. And it was larger and deadlier than either.

  What the heck was he? She didn’t know enough about shifters to know what was happening. Until she’d changed into a cougar, she didn’t even know there were more than werewolves in the forest.

  A massive, clawed hand wrapped around her throat as Timmons—in monster form—got behind her. Oh, dear lord, he was using her as a shield.

  Time resumed its sickening tempo as Timmons backed away from Grif and Steve, left angrily holding air as Timmons slipped away from them. Her eyes met Grif’s and she saw the anger and pain in his gaze as he met hers. She wanted to reach out to him but the bastard behind her had her pinned.

  “You won’t get away with this, Timmons,” Steve growled, pacing closer while Grif held back, watching and clearly both angered and worried by developments.

  She’d ruined this for him. She’d been in the wrong place at exactly the wrong time, taking what should have been his triumph over the bastard that had killed his sister away in one moment of stupidity.

  Dammit! She wasn’t going to let this end badly. She’d screwed up, but maybe she could fix things. Somehow. She grasped for ideas but came up empty.

  “I’ll rip her throat out,” Timmons growled too close to her ear. She tried to shy away but the claws at her throat pierced the skin slightly, drawing blood. She could smell the tang of it in the air. Dammit. She had to think!

  “Don’t do it,” Grif warned in a low, deadly voice.

  He was seething with anger and she thought maybe he was up to something. He was hanging back, letting Steve take point. But could she wait for him to do whatever it is he was planning? Or could she help in some way?

  “You lower yourself to lie with a human?” Timmons seemed appalled, judging by the tone of his growl. She could see his teeth and they weren’t normal human teeth. They were pointy, sharp, two inch-long fangs. Damn.

  Grif didn’t answer, only mirroring Timmons as he backed toward the trees, dragging her with him. Steve followed, only a few paces away.

  Steve shifted as he walked, but didn’t turn into the cat she was familiar with. Instead, he stopped halfway—sort of—and became like the monster who held her. It was scary as hell. Steve was a big son of a gun when he was in human form. In this half-shifted monster shape, he was absolutely terrifying.

  He stalked them, matching Timmons move for move as he continued backing toward the trees. She tried to see Grif, but Steve was blocking her view. What was he doing? Why wasn’t he doing something?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lindsey realized then that this was all part of the strategy. The brothers were working together. Steve was presenting a clear threat so Timmons would focus on him, but Grif was still in the background. Still in human form. Still dangerous.

  But for whatever reason, they were hesitating to act. Probably it had to do with the way Timmons had her by the throat. She had to do something to alter her position… And then it came to her. She was thinking like a human, but she was a shifter now and apparently Timmons didn’t realize it.

  She wasn’t sure why he couldn’t smell it on her, but maybe he just assumed any cat scent he picked up around her was from one of the Redstones. That had to be it.

  If she shifted, she’d have to do it faster than she’d ever done it before. She had to take Timmons completely by surprise. Could she do it? Lindsey thought maybe she could, but it would take all her courage to try. Still, she had to. She had to give Grif an opening to take down his sister’s killer. She’d messed this up by being in the wrong place at just the wrong time. She needed to fix it.

  She tried to catch Grif’s eye, but Steve was most definitely in the way. She settled for winking at Steve, hoping he’d figure out what she intended and somehow let his brother know.

  Lindsey gathered herself and sought the change, almost begging for it to take her fast this time. Fast like lightning. Faster than Timmons could close his claws on her shifting throat.

  And just like that, she dropped to the ground, on all fours. She bounded away and a split second later, she heard shots ring out and a dull thud behind her. Her cat eyes looked for Grif and she found him standing with his legs spread, his handgun smoking in his grip. She looked
back to where Timmons had been and he was on the ground, the sharp scent of his blood wafting stronger by the moment through the still night air. Grif had shot the bastard and he wasn’t moving. Thank goodness.

  Her legs threatened to give out, but she needed to be strong. Her little nightshirt was bunched around her furry body, but she didn’t care. She padded up to Grif and rubbed her head along his legs until he bent down to caress her head with his hands. The scent of spent gunpowder tickled her sensitive nose, but she did her best to hold back the sneeze that threatened.

  Grif wrapped his arms around her and lifted, carrying her to the porch as dark-clothed soldiers moved in on Timmons’ body. He sat on the steps with her in his arms and she could feel the tremors running through his body. It wasn’t obvious to the casual observer, but he let her feel how deeply affected he’d been by the past few minutes.

  “Change back,” he whispered in her ear and the raw emotion in his gravely voice would not be denied.

  She shifted, not really caring if she flashed everyone. They were shifters. They were used to seeing each other naked, she was sure. But she needn’t have worried. Her stretchy sleep shirt fell back into the right place when she resumed her human form with a few tugs from Grif’s big hands.

  She sat on his lap, his arms around her. She turned, wrapping him in her embrace as well.

  “I’m sorry I almost screwed everything up. I shouldn’t have been so close to the steps,” she whispered, wanting to come clean and clear the air between them.

  He drew away and looked into her eyes, seeming to be surprised by her words.

  “Sweetheart, this was all my fault. I should have anticipated what he’d do once we got outside. If not you, he’d have grabbed the first vulnerable person he saw. He gave up too easily inside. I should have realized he had something else up his sleeve. Can you forgive me?”