Flint scoffed. “You’re a piece of shit. First you almost kill a guy and now you’re making brown-paper deliveries to single moms? Let me guess: you’re just bringing them some fresh fruit.”
The puma’s face went blank. Too blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. No, better yet, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Keep your big bear nose out of it.”
No way was Flint taking orders from this pussy. Not without some reciprocation, anyway. “Stop hanging around Darby.”
Riot laughed in his face. “So next time she texts me for a ride I should just tell her to take a bus? Chivalry ain’t dead, man, just slacking. What the fuck are you doing up in my business instead of keeping an eye on your precious switch? You really trust Baby Bear to handle it?”
Flint ground his teeth on the worry that stewed in his gut. Of course he trusted Bryce. All the same, he knew he was done here. It had been stupid of him to confront the guy in the first place, but at least now they both knew where they stood.
He ended up back at the duplex, on Bryce’s side. His brother was playing video games at max volume so Flint ripped him a new one; how the fuck was Bryce supposed to listen out for Darby & Goldie if he couldn’t hear a damn thing? And no, putting his headphones on wasn’t the solution! Moron. Jesus fucking Christ, but the cub must have been napping on the day the Great Bear was handing out common sense; it was just dumb luck he’d been first in line for charm.
Too antsy to play XBox with Bryce, but too wired to relax in bed, Flint spent the next few hours puttering around the duplex, completing odd jobs and trying to take his mind off Goldie. He replaced three dead light bulbs and one that looked like it might be thinking of going soon, tightened up the leaking faucet in the second bathroom, and finally settled in at the pass-through, on the living room side, where he could heckle Bryce and polish their grandmother’s silver. It was long overdue for some love.
When Flint turned eighteen, Molly and Hernando had given him the keys to the duplex that had used to be Bruce’s house. Jameson had lived on the other side for years and had kept the place up ever since Flint’s uncle’s death. There hadn’t been much inside, a couple pieces of antique furniture and a box of Christmas decorations, a few random possessions of his uncle’s that had been left behind. But one case had drawn Flint’s attention immediately.
It was nothing special, the glossy wood finish banged-up on the edges, the gold paint flaking off the scroll pattern on the lid. Even the silverware held inside was just your regular, run-of-the-mill factory set. The only pieces that showed any character at all were the carving knife and fork, with their handles of filigree that looked like oblong cages covered in winding vines, like nothing Flint had ever seen before. He took his time with the polish, weaving the rag between the intricate filigree lace and rubbing gently until it shone. By the time he finished and looked up, Bryce had quit playing video games and gone to bed. For all Flint knew he hadn’t even said goodnight.
With a yawn, Flint decided to call it a night. He left the silver spread across the pass-through, resting on a cloth. He knew he should put it away or risk undoing all his hard work, but dammit, it had been a long fucking day and he was tired. Shit, he still had to put fresh sheets on the bed, he saw as he stumbled blearily into his old room.
For a moment he stood there waiting to see which would win, the urge to hibernate or domesticate. In the end Flint simply spread his blanket neatly over top of the mattress and awaited sleep. He’d make the bed in the morning. His last thought as he drifted off was the realization that Goldie’s head was mere feet from his, but it might as well have been a mile.
Chapter 27 - Goldie Freaks Out
The next day, on her way home from work, Goldie cranked the Into the Woods original Broadway soundtrack up and rolled her window all the way down. The wind blew her hair across her face and whipped it around behind her. She’d have tangles galore by the time she got home, but who cared? She had her car back. She was an adult. She had a bear. Kind of. He was keeping her sister safe.
The winding mountain roads with their switchback curves and steep angles were a pleasure to drive in Pascal, and she felt her tense muscles release further with every breath of fresh air.
She had just turned onto Sycamore Road, could see the duplex’s twin mailboxes, when her phone chirped with a text. Goldie pulled into the driveway, put the car in park, and grabbed her phone. Speak of the devil’s daughter. It was Darby.
Another text came through as Goldie was unlocking her screen. Then another as she tapped on the text app. Another as it was loading up her contacts. Hold your horses, Darby. Jeez.
But what she saw made Goldie’s blood run cold. Short, frantic texts from her sister kept coming in, each one urgent sentence long: Some kid just brought me a note. Said a guy in the parking lot paid him $10 to deliver it. Same paper as before but this one is handwritten. Says to come outside and he will show me that we can finally be together. I can’t stop shaking.
Goldie’s heart started to pound and a low buzz filled her head. He was here? In Five Hills? At the diner? Oh sweet fancy Moses, he was going to get Darby. Snatch her. Kill her. Goldie texted back with fingers shaking so badly she could barely hit the right letters: Stay calm. Don’t move. I’m coming to get you.
She threw her phone to the side and slammed the car into reverse, tires screeching as she backed onto the road. As she put it in drive and hit the gas, a thought struck Goldie. She didn’t have to do this alone, right? She had help now. Flint had promised.
Keeping one eye on the road, she hit the speed dial for his number that Flint had programmed into her phone and listened as it rang. And rang. And rang. And shuffled her over to voicemail. Goldie’s jaw clenched. Figures. She tossed her phone into the passenger seat. She wasn’t angry. No. She was just disappointed.
Darby’s safety came before vampires, and if Flint wasn’t taking care of Darby like he’d promised… Goldie’d take the two of them somewhere where nobody could follow, and they’d never be let down again because they’d never ask for help.
Plans ratcheted up in her her mind. Just let me get to her in time, please. They weren’t going home to pack up Darby’s makeup and clothes, to grab her favorite boots or her art supplies. The book of photographs packed in Goldie’s go-bag, of her fairy tale sock collection and the little jewelry case from Tallulah’s bedroom. They’d have to leave it all behind. She knew she wasn’t being rational, planning to grab Darby and just… go, but she couldn’t help herself. Her greatest fear was playing out in front of her as she sped down the mountain road.
Goldie scrambled for her phone again, her finger stabbing at the button that would automatically dial her sister’s number. For once Darby answered on the first ring. “How long until you get here? Something is so weird. He’s out there. I can feel him, it’s so strange. Like I want to go to him but if I do he’ll… I don’t know, but I still want to go.”
Goldie kept her voice level. It was no good if they were both too keyed up to think straight. “I’ll be in the parking lot in sixty seconds. Stay on the phone. I’m going to pull up right next to the door and you’re doing to jump in the car. Okay?”
She could hear Darby almost panting on the other end of the line. “Got it.”
Gravel skittered under her wheels as Goldie pulled into the parking lot of the Bear Claw Diner and cast her eyes around the parking lot. She didn’t know what she expected to see; a man with a bomb strapped to his chest, holding a wedding dress in Darby’s size? But there was nobody. Plenty of cars, but no people she could see. “Dar, I’m coming straight in. Get ready to run.”
She squeaked the car in as close to the door as she could and put her fingers on the automatic door locks, ready to hit the button as soon as Darby was inside. A flash of pink showed through the glass on the front door just before her sister came tearing through, the door swinging so hard on its hinges it slammed off the outside wall. Darby ripped open the back door and dove inside with her head down.<
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Goldie was just about to pull away when a flash of platinum blonde hair caught her eye. Shiloh burst through the exit, gaze immediately lasered in on Goldie’s. The mysterious woman with the ripped body took one look at Darby in the backseat, slammed the car’s back door shut, and helped herself to the passenger side. “What the fuck, Goldie?”
But Goldie’s mind was reeling too fast to answer. In the seconds between catching sight of Shiloh and the car door slamming shut, she had realized what the woman’s presence meant: Flint hadn’t failed her. Darby had been protected the whole time. Too late to go back now.
Goldie put the car in drive and peeled out of her spot in front of the door, checking her mirrors and wincing as gravel kicked up on other cars in the lot, metallic pings ringing loud and clear over the sound of Pascal’s revving engine. Come on, baby. You can do this. Her little car wasn’t made for speed as much as reliability, the wheels skittering over the rocks until they found enough grip to move. Dust blown up from the clay underneath made it hard to see anything else behind her as Goldie got back on Wayah Road and headed north. Out of town.
Away.
Chapter 28 - Heartbound Hero
Flint waved goodbye to the family of five as they shucked their lifejackets in a pile and made their way back to the BBOC store. Another successful tour in the books, and his last for the day. Soon he’d be free to go find Goldie, see if he could take her out to dinner. He hadn’t been able to think of much of anything else since they’d parted ways last night. There were hours of daylight left, but Bryce and the other guides would handle the few customers that remained. Flint just had some paperwork to get through and then it was adios, BBOC.
He stowed the lifejackets and pulled the raft off the bus, strapping it to the wooden frame next to the launch so it would be ready for tomorrow’s runs. His muscles were warm in the afternoon sun after a day of being out on the water. Flint headed uphill towards the store, where his office was located, along with the enormous back room that housed their repair shop as well as an unofficial shifters’ meeting spot: the sparring gym. Maybe he’d get a workout in before the paperwork. A shower. Clear his head. But no sooner had the thought crossed his mind than Flint rejected it with a knowing grunt; he was just putting off the inevitable. Better if he did the paperwork first, then rewarded himself with a workout.
He hated being an adult sometimes. And now that he'd gone and gotten himself heartbound to Goldie, Flint didn't even have the promise of a career as a solo vampire hunter to look forward to. He bet the Mountain Man didn't have to do paperwork. Well, maybe inventory.
He’d figured it out first thing that morning, realizing what that green glow when he’d kissed her had meant. Heartbound was fate picking switch and shifter matches, and Flint wasn’t sure how it worked, but he’d seen it in Jameson and Cora. Once he got heartbound Jameson glowed the same grayish, sage green as Cora when she needed him, whereas Flint and Riot - the other two shifters bound to Breath Coven - only their eyes glowed. It was funny, Flint could even feel a difference between them. Or he thought he could. Goldie’s was so much sweeter and smoother and warmer, an entirely different shade and tone. But then, he was heartbound, and right at that moment, heartbound felt a lot like love.
A heady, scary love, that screamed of possible pain. He closed his eyes, imagined Goldie’s scent and her soft voice. It was worth it. Love like this was always worth it.
Maybe he was looking at a life in Five Hills, up at Resperanza with Goldie. That would be worth it for sure. It wasn’t a sure thing, she wasn’t committed. But Flint was, to her. If she left, chances were good he'd be trailing after her. No way was his woman ever hunting alone. Or with anyone but him. Now he just had to tell her. His heart thumped hard as he imagined her reaction.
He was halfway up the ramp to the door when Flint froze, the most unwelcome feeling of raw anxiety tensing every muscle in his body. (goldie needs you.)
It was exactly how he’d felt the night he met her, but amped up to eleven. Flint unstuck his feet and burst through the door of the BBOC. The family that he’d just toured and the few other customers looked up in alarm, instinctively shrinking back. That’s right, fuckers. Big angry dude with a nasty scar coming through. You wanna live, you’ll stay out of my way.
He shoved through the door to the sparring gym and headed straight for his office and his car keys inside. He didn’t even notice anyone else was there until Flint heard a muttered, “For fuck’s sake, another one?”
Aven reclined shirtless under a few hundred pounds on the bench press, shaking his head, his sharp eyes glancing in Flint’s direction.
Flint snarled back at the eagle. “Another what?” Knowing what he was going to hear. Secret was out. Some secret. Shit.
Aven let out a laugh. “Feeling antsy, brother? Take a look at yourself.”
Flint glanced in the mirror by the row of lockers. Shit. He was green. Not his skin, but his aura or whatever the fuck you’d call it. Everywhere around him glowed in that exact shade of shamrock that Goldie did, like he was surrounded in her light. It even spilled out of his eyes. Yep.
“Heartbound,” Aven declared, with a smug look. “You took my advice? Found her Resonant?”
Flint didn’t have time for chit-chat. He grabbed his keys on the run outside. His phone rang in his pocket. Hernando. And one missed call. Flint swiped at the screen, nervous. “Can’t talk now, ‘Nando. Shit’s going down.”
“That’s what I called to tell you, oso. Darby just ran out of here. Shiloh, too. They both got in a green Honda with Louisiana plates. That mean anything to you?”
Flint’s rumbling growl made Hernando give a humorless grunt. “I guess so. Darby didn’t clock out or tell anyone she was leaving, just ran. Thought I ought to give you a call.”
With muttered thanks Flint hung up the phone, catching another glimpse of his glowing form as he pulled his office door closed and came up against Aven, done with his workout and eyeing Flint closely. The eagle clacked his teeth. “Sounds like you could use a hand.”
Flint didn’t hesitate. “I need you up high. Green Civic, just left the Bear Claw.”
Aven nodded and headed for the back door of the gym, the side facing the river, dropping trou’ as he went so he could shift the second he was outside. Flint moved in the opposite direction, back through the store and out to the parking lot, where he folded himself into his SUV and jammed it into gear, kicking gravel as he headed for the main road. Fifty yards before he got there Aven appeared in eagle form on the big wooden BBOC sign and waited, flying north as Flint got closer. Shit, they’d already passed the BBOC in just the time since ‘Nando called? Goldie must be booking it.
Flint pulled into traffic, his eyes glancing skyward every dozen seconds to make sure he was still on the course Aven was setting. The eagle swooped low a couple hundred yards ahead of him, presumably keeping an eye on the car. Flint approached as quickly as he safely could, darting around other cars on the straightaways even though it was a no-pass zone for miles. Honking horns and middle fingers followed him down the road but Flint didn’t give half a shit; he had Goldie in his sights and was closing fast.
She was driving crazy, going too fast around the sharp switchbacks as they made their way up one side of a steep hill, her lightweight car bouncing over the ruts in the asphalt where icy runoff had split the surface. Flint watched a spray of gravel spin up around a curve, showering the tan sedan behind her, as Goldie accelerated far faster than was necessary.
Thoughts sprinted through his head as Flint tried to imagine what the hell Goldie could be thinking. None of it made any sense.
He was three cars back when it happened. The worst he could imagine. Almost. Flint had just crested the hill and started towards the first of a series of switchbacks so deep most cars took them at a crawl. Not Goldie. She was going so fast when she hit the turn Flint’s stomach dropped and a voice in his head screamed out a futile warning. Brakes, Goldie!
He heard the screech of tir
es as Goldie’s little green car slid sideways behind the trees and out of his view.
Over the side.
Flint slammed on his brakes with both feet, skidding to a stop in the middle of the road and ran. Just fucking ran. His chest ached. Please, Great Bear, God, whatever the fuck is really real, save Goldie. I need her.
He ran to the steeply sloping side of the hill where the road dropped off to nothing. The little green hatchback was hanging by a thread, wedged between two trees, the driver’s side dangling ass-first over the steep slope leading to the road below. Flint bellowed at whoever was in the car that stopped behind his. Someone with half a brain cell, he hoped. “Go stop traffic on the next switchback, get the road clear before this car comes down there and kills someone.” He didn’t stop to see if they did it.
Over the side he went, crashing through the thick brush. Two heads of blonde hair tumbled out of the passenger side door. Shiloh and Goldie. Flint felt his heart beat in his ears as he heard Goldie’s sweet voice groan underneath the sound of Shiloh’s pained grunts. The cat shifter lifted herself to kneeling, and Goldie along with her, before pushing to her feet and dragging them both further out. Flint could see Shiloh’s right arm was bent at a strange angle, her shoulder held tight and unnaturally close as she used the other arm to propel Goldie forward. The shifter’s face was pouring sweat, as well as a thin stream of blood from a gash on her forehead. The pain she felt was obvious in her clenched jaw, her complexion pasty and pale as milk.
Goldie wasn’t helping. She pulled at Shiloh’s hold, one hand on her forehead and the angry bump forming there as the other grabbed at tree branches and brush to hold herself back. Her voice had the determined tone of someone who had no idea how close they’d come to dying. “No! I’ve got to get Darby! She’s still in the car!”
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