by Elle Thorne
“Yeah, well, this one doesn’t need interpreting. Saizon is clearly in the area and hunting me.” And Slate didn’t have the faintest idea where to find Dunn. He needed the visions. He needed to keep her skills so he could find Dunn. And he needed his damned bear.
“Look. My bear, uh, I’m virtually helpless without him.” I’m human. He didn’t want to voice that phrase.
It sounded like being human was a curse, when he thought of it that way.
Chapter Six
Lana took a deep breath.
There was something in Slate Youngblood’s eyes. Something about this man with a chiseled face and an even more chiseled body. Not that she was one to be swayed by looks, but damn, he could do some swaying. Back to the matter at hand, away from those eyes and lips.
“I can return the bear to you. I think.”
“You think?”
“Well, it’s not like I’ve ever done this before. I’ve never known I could do this.” And after all, his bear had come to her. Now, why did the bear do that? she wondered. “Why would your bear come to me? Why would he abandon you?”
Slate’s eyes turned dark and stormy. “I guess before today I’d have said he never would. But after this…” He shrugged. “Would you release my bear but let me keep your skills for a while?” He made a soft scoffing sound. “Jesus. I’ve never asked anyone if I could borrow their skills.”
“You always take? You never ask for permission?”
He nodded, though he didn’t seem proud of it at the moment.
“I’m not sure I can agree to that,” she said with a grimace. “See, if I give you back your bear, then you don’t have a reason to return my skills to me. You can just go away.”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that.”
It was her turn to shrug. “I don’t have guarantees. And” —she held up her hand— “before you go making promises I don’t believe you’ll keep, know this. Your word isn’t good enough.” It pained her to say this, when she could read the truth in his eyes. But still, her skills were at stake.
“Then, what? I need your skills to help me find my brother. I. Need. Them.”
“Then your bear stays put.”
“Not a chance.”
“You don’t exactly have a choice here, Slate Youngblood.”
He slammed his fist into his palm then leaned on the boulder, palms down, head hanging, defeated.
“Isn’t this cozy.” A masculine voice said from next to a massive pine tree.
Slate rose and spun around. Lana whirled to face the sound.
Chapter Seven
Son of a bitch. If Slate still had his bear, he’d be growling.
Wait. If he still had his bear. But he didn’t.
That was how Victor Saizon had managed to sneak up on them. That was why Slate hadn’t picked up on his arrival. He took a second to glare at Lana. If she hadn’t taken his bear, he wouldn’t be in this predicament.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped. “You started this whole thing.”
“Who are you?” Victor Saizon said to her, stepping away from the tree, revealing a black matte finish Glock 9 in his right hand.
“She’s no one. Leave her out of it.”
Lana frowned at the characterization.
Saizon shook his head and reached into his pocket, fished out a pair of cuffs. “Put these on him,” he instructed her.
She didn’t move. “Handcuffs don’t hold shifters.”
He did a doubletake. She knew damned well he wasn’t a shifter at this second. She had his bear.
“These handcuffs will,” Saizon said with a sneer. “They’re enchanted. Specifically designed to restrain a shifter.”
“Thought you said you weren’t a fed at the picnic table.”
Saizon nodded deliberately. “I’m not.” He held the handcuffs out for Lana. She didn’t move to take them.
“Then why the hell are you hunting me?” He was confused. If Saizon wasn’t a fed, why did he want him? Why did he want Dunnigan?
“I need your brother. A life depends on it.”
“What life? Why?” Lana spoke up.
“Who are you?” Saizon waved the pistol her way. He was no longer in the suit he had grown accustomed to seeing him in at Razorpeak. He wore a dark-blue long-sleeve shirt and jeans, sporting a black ball cap which hid the fed haircut he’d had the last time he saw him. His face was uncharacteristically scruffy. “I’m not asking again.”
“I’m a guest at Mae’s. I know who you are, Victor Saizon. I saw you pull up to the B&B. Griz was supposed to be working with you to find Slate.”
Saizon’s eyes narrowed. “Slate, huh? First name basis, I guess.”
This confirmed Lana wasn’t working with Saizon, though he had already started to believe her. “Why do you want me if you don’t work for Razorpeak or the feds? What about Crossroads?”
“Razorpeak? Crossroads?” She frowned.
He wasn’t about to answer that right now.
Saizon didn’t even glance at her, but he was clearly not going to answer his question. “Time to handcuff your boyfriend, Miss.”
She remained unmoving. “Handcuff him yourself.”
Saizon cast her a glare then turned his attention back to Slate. “Something’s different about you. What is it?” He stared into his eyes. “What could it— Where’s your bear?” Then he laughed low. “This is going to be too easy, isn’t it? Perfect. Because I’m in a hurry to get down to New Orleans.”
Slate arched a brow. New Orleans? What the hell? Then he noticed Lana’s green eyes. They had a faraway look and her hands were clenched at her side. What was she up to?
Within seconds, he knew exactly what she was up to as his mind seemed to implode with a sensation of space expanding. Instantly, everything changed. His bear was back!
The bear roared in his mind, reassuring him things were under control again. His muscles tensed, his sight became focused, his hearing extraordinary.
She nodded to him. “You good now?”
He tipped his head subtly in assent.
Saizon glanced between the two of them. “What the—” He shuddered. His hands shook. The gun and cuffs thudded to the forest floor. “What did you do to me?” He kept glancing from one to the other.
“You did it to him, too?” He asked her.
“Had to. Can’t risk—anything.”
Saizon bellowed a battle cry and rushed him. “You bastard. Where’s my bear?”
Chapter Eight
Lana wrangled with Victor Saizon’s bear in her mind. “You’re fine,” she tried to assure it. “I’ll return you to him as soon as this matter is settled.”
The bear roared in her mind, protesting having been taken hostage.
“I had to. We need Saizon neutralized for now. And no, I’m not going to discuss more with you, you’ll just tell Saizon when you go back to him.”
The bear roared. In her mind, she felt it rearing up, slashing with claws.
She clenched her head, squeezing to alleviate the pain. “Quit that, or else—”
The bear didn’t quit. Unsure what tactic to employ, she let her instincts guide her as she restrained the bear, pushing it down, standing over it in her mind, her foot on its neck. “Keep that up and I’ll hold you like this forever.” She didn’t think she had the mental stamina to do so, but it was worth making a threat if it got the bear to settle.
With that, she tuned the bear out and turned her attention to the two men. Saizon was ranting at Slate for having taken his bear, clearly thinking this was something a skilljacker could do.
Saizon lunged toward him. Lana held her breath and thanked the heavens she’d given him his bear back as he intercepted Saizon’s uppercut and delivered a solid punch to his stomach. Saizon doubled over for a second then he was up again and diving for Slate once more.
The next few moments were a whirl, and though that bastard Saizon tried to hold his own in the fight, there was no defeating him and his bear. Mo
ments later, Saizon was unconscious and bloody, while Slate sported a few lacerations and a torn sleeve.
Not even panting, he turned to her. “Thank you.” He picked up the cuffs then grabbed Saizon, dragging him to the nearest tree. Wrapping Saizon’s arms around the tree, he handcuffed him in place. “I wonder whom he’s working for, since he’s no longer a fed.”
“Or so he claims.” She wasn’t fully on board with taking Saizon at his word. “You’re welcome. Think you can return my skills now?”
He pocketed the Glock then dug in Saizon’s pockets. “We need to get out of here.” He fished out the guy’s wallet, ID, and cell phone, then dropped them into his own pockets.
Fuming, she grabbed his arm. “Not the answer I was looking for.”
“I think we don’t want to be around, in case any of his cohorts show up.”
“I’m not keeping his bear. He’ll drive me crazy with his howling and grumbling.” Not to mention, it took a lot of energy to restrain him. And she wasn’t sure if that would work while she slept. Maybe the bear would escape while she was sleeping.
“Did my bear drive you crazy?”
“His bear is protesting being away from him.”
Slate looked up from Saizon’s body. “And you’re saying my bear didn’t protest?”
She shrugged. “Not exactly.”
“That needs answering.”
“Ask your bear.”
He scowled. “You going to take him back, or let me have him?”
Good question. She didn’t exactly care for the experience of having his bear in her mind. It was odd, sharing headspace with another being. More than odd, it was disturbing, and she would prefer not to do that again. But she wasn’t about to tell him. She couldn’t lose the leverage of having him know she could do it again.
She concentrated on Saizon, grunted, and leaned forward, palms on knees. With a mighty heave, she pushed his bear out of her mind.
She needed to talk to someone. She had questions. About Crossroads. About Razorpeak. About this newly discovered latent skill she had of taking a shifter’s animal into herself. She wanted to know more about it, starting with what the hell it was called. It wasn’t the same as skilljacking, so what was it? Would Griz know? Would one of the sorcerers or sorceresses in her family know? The idea of reaching out to her family left her feeling cold. She didn’t want to deal with them.
“Let’s get going,” Slate urged. “Who knows where the hell he’d have parked a vehicle.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Lana couldn’t have said why, but she was going to stick by him. And it wasn’t merely because she wanted her skills back, though she did. There was something about him. Something about the urgency he felt in finding his brother.
And let’s face it, she told herself, it’s not like I don’t enjoy a good adventure.
It was this same spirit of adventure that had led her to help Allegra and end up in Bear Canyon Valley.
Chapter Nine
Slate mentally took stock of their situation.
Don’t know where Saizon’s car is. Check.
Don’t know if we can trust Griz. Check.
Don’t know if Dunn is alive. Check.
Dammit.
He had Saizon’s cell phone. And who the hell could he call with that? There wasn’t anyone he trusted. Not fully. Not anymore. Their uncle was dead. The rest of their distant relatives might or might not be corrupt with a few dollars from the wrong people.
He had Saizon’s keys. But didn’t know where his car was.
Screwed. That was where he was. Completely and fully screwed.
Lana was watching him, not saying a word.
“What?” He scowled at her. “What are you staring at me like that for?”
She glowered back at him. “You said let’s go. I asked what the plan is, but you’re just standing there, like a deer caught in headlights.”
Slate doubted he looked that beleaguered, but come on, what was he supposed to come up with?
“Listen, until I saw your visions, my mission was to avoid Saizon and find Dunn. Then I saw Dunn…” He couldn’t bring himself to say he saw his brother in the morgue. He could hardly think of it. He exhaled. “Your visions have imparted even more urgency to finding my brother. And I don’t exactly have a game plan.” That was stating it mildly. He had no clue where Dunn was. Or how to find him. And most importantly, how the hell he was going to get to him. Slate’s own vehicle was still parked outside Ciara’s cabin. As for his keys, they were… Well, who the hell knew where they were? Probably lost in the scuffle with Krisztián and Ciara back at Ciara’s place. Probably where his phone was, too. But now he had Saizon’s phone, he could call Dunn.
Slate started walking through the forest, heading north. Why north? Because it was away from Bear Canyon Valley. And to his knowledge the nearest town would be north of here. And maybe he could borrow a car there. Borrow for a little while. Without permission.
Lana’s footsteps crunched through leaves, branches, and pine needles as she trailed behind him.
He fished Saizon’s phone out of his pocket, and, saying a prayer it wasn’t password protected, he swiped.
Then he had to smile at Saizon’s arrogance. The bastard didn’t even lock his phone with a password. Probably never figured anyone would have the gall to take a fed’s phone away from him. Except he’d said he wasn’t a fed anymore. And why was he talking about New Orleans?
Another one of those damned visions struck, knocking into Slate with the ferocity of an F5 tornado. Images darted in and out of his mind with the speed of a runaway locomotive.
Dunn.
An auburn-haired woman.
Lana.
Saizon, talking to a—
Slate inhaled sharply. Was that a vampire Saizon was talking to?
The image panned onto a street sign. Bourbon Street.
Bourbon Street? New Orleans, Louisiana?
Wait a damned minute. What the hell does New Orleans have to do with this?
Just as swiftly, the images departed, leaving a stunned and confused Slate laying on a bed of leaves and pine needles.
He frowned, studying Lana, who had risen at some point during the vision, and now stood above him, a cell phone in her hands.
He squinted at the phone. It was Saizon’s and the screen was cracked. “What happened?”
“You had a vision, evidently. You dropped the phone and—”
“I landed on you,” he recalled. “Sorry.”
She acknowledged his apology with a brief nod. “Looks like it still works.” She showed him the screen. “Who were you going to call?”
“Figured I’d try Dunn’s number.”
“From Victor Saizon’s phone? Really?”
He rose to his feet, brushing debris and foliage from his pants. “Guess I wasn’t thinking.”
“Yeah, because if Victor or his contacts accessed any of the activity on this phone, then they’d have your brother’s number.”
“If they don’t already,” he reminded her. “But you’re right. So, what’s the plan?”
She scowled at him. “While you were in the middle of the visions, I came up with an idea.”
“What’s that?”
“I have a contact. He’s pretty much got unlimited funds and assets to help us.”
He pondered this. “Who is it? Why would he help us? What—”
“Slow down. It’s Tito Tiero. I doubt you know him.”
“Tiero…” He couldn’t recall where he’d heard that surname, but he’d never heard the name Tito before.
Lana blew out a breath, pushing a few stray hairs from her face. “He’s from Europe. Has some family in the U.S. They run the Dallas area.”
“So, why would he help you?”
“He just does.”
A pang struck Slate, and though he didn’t want to admit it, though he didn’t want to feel it, he knew it was jealousy pricking at his emotions. What did this Tito guy with his unlimited funds mean to
Lana? Hell, what was her story at all? He had virtually no knowledge about her. Except that she was deliciously hot. And he found himself wanting to kiss her, though at the same time, he couldn’t forget he had stolen her skills. Something she hadn’t forgiven him for yet. Maybe she never would forgive him that trespass.
And then he remembered. “Did you notice anything odd about the visions?”
She arched a brow. “Care to be more specific?” After handing him the phone, she swiped at his back, sending leaves and dirt flying.
“I saw a vampire this time.”
She pursed her lips and drew her brows down. “No. I’ve never seen a vampire in my visions. What was he—or she—doing?”
“It was a he. Talking to Saizon in New Orleans.”
“What did he look like?”
“Dark skin. Long hair. Braids of some kind. Maybe. Dressed in a tailormade suit. I’m no expert on suits, but it didn’t appear cheap. Probably not American-made, for that matter. Italian or something.”
She shook her head. “Doesn’t sound familiar. And he was talking with Saizon?”
“Yeah, but it didn’t seem exactly friendly.”
She shrugged. “No idea.”
Slate wondered why the visions would choose to reveal this to him. “How do the visions work? Do they always and only show you pertinent stuff?” He started walking north again, glanced back and noticed she was standing still. “Come on. We don’t want to hang out here.”
“Especially since someone—his team or whoever—might be tracking this phone. You realize it’s probably transmitting our location. Why don’t you let me use it to call Tito, then I can arrange to get us a car, a phone, some cash, and we can destroy this one.”
“And what if they can call this Tito’s number? If they can track Saizon’s phone, they can surely track the numbers called from his phone.”
“I’m sure Tito’s got it handled.”
The prick of jealousy flared in Slate. He already didn’t like Tito, and he hadn’t even met him. He had to push this aside. The most important thing was finding Dunn. Saving Dunn. And if that meant his little feelings got hurt because of some beau Lana could reach out to for assistance, then he’d just have to pull his big-boy pants on and get the fuck over whatever was bothering him about this situation.