Stalking His Mate: League Of Gallize Shifters

by Dianna Love

  He must have sensed her coming or heard her footsteps, because he tried to whip around.

  She lunged forward at the last second and grabbed the exposed skin at his waist, hanging on for dear life as he staggered. He jerked back and forth, trying to shake her off. The creep smelled nasty, like he’d rolled in crap. She dug her fingertips into his back and felt energy shoot out of her fingers.

  His arm flew around to backhand her, but before his hand could connect, he tensed, then froze in that position and shuddered hard.

  Just like Dyson.

  Foam came out of his mouth.

  That hadn’t happened with Dyson.

  She let go and backed up. Her hands trembled and she lifted them, staring at what had apparently become weapons. If he died, that would make two people she’d killed.

  Loud cursing and the sound of heavy fists hitting bodies dragged her attention from her hands.

  What about Vern? He was bigger than either Dyson or the one she’d just put down. Vern continued blasting hits at the new guy, whose shoulder hadn’t even begun to heal. He would die if she didn’t do something.

  But what if she killed another person?

  What if she stood around debating her moral dilemma and the guy who saved her from these jackals got shredded?

  She could still feel the energy circulating through her core.

  Pushing her conscience to the side to face later, she started for the bald guy. This time, she’d try to limit her attack to just grab, shock, and let go real fast.

  Just as she reached for his arm, the jackal went flying backwards twenty feet, sliding to a stop on his back.

  What the heck? She stared at the body.

  Fingers touched her arm gently. A deep voice warned, “Don’t get too close. He’s still dangerous, just knocked out.”

  She jerked her head around to the broad chest of Golden Eyes, but kept her gaze down even though it was dark. Her mismatched eyes were as identifiable a feature as her white hair. She’d hidden her eyes with a pair of bent sunglasses she’d found in a bus station garbage can and fixed. They’d ended up smashed when the wolves kidnapped her.

  Thunder rumbled overhead, but she paid it no mind.

  A sizzle of energy slid down her arm and hummed where this man’s hand touched her skin, as if her energy gave him a little hello.

  She stared at that spot, expecting to see something.

  A red glow. A blue glow. Any glow.

  Why was that buzz happening? Was she doing it … or him? Was it the same energy that had killed Dyson? Would it hurt this man too? She started to step away, but all at once, her teeth chattered and she couldn’t stop the shaking that racked her body.

  “Hold on.” He pulled her to him. “You’re going through shock, but you’re safe. I won’t let them hurt you again.”

  She should be backing up and running.

  But she couldn’t. It felt so good for him to touch her.

  For years, she’d longed for a man to hold her in a way that made her feel cherished, wanted, cared for and ... loved. That would probably never happen, but freedom was supposed to mean a new life where she could feel like the women she read about in magazines and books.

  The other bounty hunters were just beyond the trees. She’d heard rumors whispered by newcomers in the camps, about laws that had been passed making it illegal for shifters to hunt and sell other shifters. Maybe those rumors were true, because this man acted as if he were here to save the caged women and children. He probably had more people with him. If so, she could sneak out once the bad guys were taken down. She should be counting her lucky stars and heading the opposite direction.

  But being held in this man’s arms hampered any thought of breaking free to run. Just a few seconds more.

  She needed this right now, this minute, and couldn’t make herself let go any more than someone dying of thirst could turn away a drink of water. If the world exploded into a fireball on her next breath, she’d have this to hold onto as her last memory.

  He rubbed her back and she just stood there like a content idiot, soaking up the comfort she had so rarely received. Baatar hugged her sometimes, but it was more like getting a pat on the head from a big brother.

  This man had her up against his warm body and wrapped in his powerful arms, which felt nothing like sibling reassurance. He murmured soothing words that swirled around in her chest and latched onto her heart.

  She could stay here forever.

  What? No, not forever. She had to keep moving. And she would in just a moment. One tiny minute couldn’t make that much difference, could it?

  He spoke close to her ear in a reprimanding tone, “That was a crazy move to jump on a shifter. I can’t believe you did that.”

  At his censure, she pushed away.

  He immediately opened his arms, which she appreciated. Sort of. She’d liked being held, but she had to make sure the others were being rescued, then get running again.

  Plus, he’d just criticized her.

  “Really?” She narrowed her eyes into thin slits, which helped hide her mismatched gaze while countering his look of censure with one of her own. “I saved you and you’re going to lecture me?”

  “No, I wasn’t.” He took a step back and shoved a hand across his mussed, dark-brown hair, which only made him look rugged and hot. He grumbled, “I was trying to say thank you, dammit.”

  “Thank you, dammit? Nice.”

  His golden gaze locked on her with a disgruntled expression. “Just thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She might sound more appreciative if he hadn’t bitten out the words. Just when she had the upper hand in this exchange, she noticed his shoulder wound and felt like a jerk for sniping at him. But he had her off-kilter and she hated to feel out of balance around a man.

  Had something just made a scratchy electronic noise?

  When he lifted his hand to his ear, he grimaced. That shoulder still wasn’t healing. Why not?

  Dropping his hand, he said, “Time to find a place for you—”

  Lightning crackled through the sky, interrupting him and warning that the summer storm would unload soon.

  Still focused on his awful injury, she reached for the jagged skin torn from his shoulder. “You’re bleeding badly.”

  “It’ll be fine, but you need to ... ” he started to say, then he paused and became motionless at the same moment her energy pulsed between her hand and his shoulder.

  What shocked her even more was how she felt his energy surge to meet hers. The same energy that had killed one ... maybe two people. Okay what was going on?

  But this had been like two energy puppies making friends instead of hers acting like a rabid dog.

  His shoulder appeared to be healing. Had her unpredictable energy done that or had his healing ability finally kicked in?

  The combined hum from whatever they were both generating rushed over her skin.

  She snatched her hand away and stepped back. He was a shifter. What had his energy been doing to hers?

  He shook off his momentary confusion and asked, “What’s wrong? You’re looking at me now like I grew three heads.”

  She whispered, “You’re a shifter.” And she’d been touching him, had allowed him to comfort her.

  Baatar would be shouting like a madman if he stood here now.

  Golden Eyes returned to talking in a soothing voice. “Yes, I’m a shifter, but I won’t hurt you. I just need you to stay calm and hide until we finish dealing with these bad shifters. I expect another one to come this way soon and I have to be ready for him.” He’d emphasized bad as if to separate himself from the entire population of dangerous shifters.

  When she didn’t speak, he urged, “Work with me and we’ll get you returned to your people.”

  She took a step back as a raindrop hit her head. “Actually, I don’t have any family. I’m good. I’ll just mosey on.”

  Not very far, though, until she could determine that all those in cages had been save
d.

  Now he looked pissed. But that was normal for a male shifter, right?

  He said, “Don’t run. You can’t outrun me, plus I’d like to talk to you.”

  “Why?”

  “I just want to ask you something, dammit.”

  “What? Ask me now.” She had to keep him talking. Maybe the shifter he was waiting for would show up soon to take his attention. That would allow her to sneak around to see what was happening with the women and children. If she got caught again and died, it would be with a clear conscience.

  More drops began to tap against the leaves and ground.

  “When you ... ” His gaze ripped past her. “Move!”

  Wheeling around, she barely had time to dive to the side before Baldy ran her over. When she scrambled to her feet and turned, Golden Eyes had hit Vern straight on, knocking him to the ground. They rolled around, pounding each other until they separated and got up to make another run at each other.

  She continued backing toward the woods behind her.

  Lightning-quick blows landed with dull thuds until Golden Eyes kicked the jackal in the gut, knocking him back and pinning him to the ground with his body. He slammed a rock-crushing fist at the jackal’s jaw.

  The shifter’s arms flopped to the ground. He groaned.

  Not dead.

  Her heart rate doubled. She should have been deep in the woods by now, maybe even to a highway. Not staring at the most beautiful gaze she’d ever seen and trying to figure out how to save the others. Maybe she could zap the rest of the guards.

  Not unless she could do it all at once, and that was assuming her energy would show up when she needed it.

  Rain drizzled, enough now to drench her hair and clothes.

  Without moving his gaze from her, Golden Eyes muttered, “Stop. I told you. We’re here to help.”

  “You can’t help me.” She’d made the mistake of making one shifter friend along the way and had ended up captured by association.

  Baatar expected her to be smarter than that. She was making too many mistakes, like getting cozy with a male shifter and wasting precious time trying to find a way to save strangers. Baatar had accused her of having an oversized heart, and not in a good way. He kept telling her that caring for strangers would one day put her in deep trouble.

  She didn’t want to tell him he’d been right about getting in trouble.

  The jackal laid out on the ground took a drunken swing at her savior. Golden Eyes slapped his hand away then popped Vern one last time, knocking him out.

  She took two more steps back.

  Those gold eyes lifted to hers once more and this time that gaze pleaded with her. “Wait for a few minutes. We can help you. We’ll take you to a sanctuary.”

  He meant lock her up with a bunch of shifters. Shaking her head and looking away, she said, “You’re safe. I can’t stay.”

  His face fell with an incredulous expression. “I’m safe?” Then his head jerked around to look in the direction where the cages were being guarded.

  Now that they weren’t talking, she could hear the sounds of fighting going on back there. A rescue team?

  She asked, “Are those your people I hear fighting?”

  He turned back to her. “Yes.”

  “Can they save everyone in the cages?”

  “Yes. We can save all of you.”

  Now that she knew someone would save those women and their children, she felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders.

  When he spoke this time, it was an order and came out with a load of power. “Don’t move.”

  The power rushed over her and past. She stuck her chin in the air. “Your magic will not work on me. For once, do the right thing and let me go.”

  “Magic? I don’t have any magic.” He pushed up from the comatose bald shifter and kept talking. “What about you and that energy? Are you a witch or a healer?”

  “Neither. Stay away from me. My power kills.” Swinging around, she was gone, letting his curse fade behind her.

  He had a shifter’s speed to catch her.

  But by the time two minutes had passed with no sign of him, she took a deep breath of relief. Maybe one more decent man like Baatar lived in this world.

  Too bad Golden Eyes was a shifter and she’d never see him again to find out what he’d wanted to ask her.

  That made her sad, and okay that might be foolish thinking, but she couldn’t change the fact that he’d given her a moment of comfort like she’d never experienced before.

  Right now, she had to get out of these woods while she had a chance.

  Chapter 5

  Rory’s mouth fell open as the nymph ran off.

  The damn jackal beneath him started shifting.

  He’d been trying to keep one of these shifters alive to provide intel for Scarlett. She’d given them what they’d all believed would be a Jugo Loco distribution meeting in exchange for the team handing her the name of the person running these bounty hunters.

  If he could take this jackal back alive, they could wring the truth out of him and fulfill their part of the deal Tess made on behalf of the Guardian.

  This shifter had been ready to gut that woman and in another few seconds, he’d be changed into a jackal.

  Rory reached for the bald head that had contorted into an elongated snout with fangs. The jackal slashed his claws, trying to gut Rory. He missed but filleted an arm. Fucker. Rory trapped the shifting upper body between his legs and twisted the half-jackal head hard until the neck snapped.

  Bastard ripped a new wound on his other arm.

  Pushing off the jackal’s body, Rory stood and stared at the empty spot where the woman had been.

  A moment ago, his shoulder had been no more healed than his new arm wounds, but with one touch of the nymph’s hand his shoulder had begun mending.

  That sensation had dropped to a trickle as soon as she backed away.

  He’d struggled not to grab her back into his embrace. Yeah, that would win him Asshole Of The Year award. He’d never forced a woman to be with him, but ... that fearless female drew him like a human magnet.

  Of course, she wasn’t exactly human, now was she?

  Staring at her that first time had pulled him toward her.

  He couldn’t call up the color of her eyes. Why not? He was good with details like that during any operation.

  Holding her had stirred parts of him to life that had no place on a mission.

  Not a witch or a healer, according to her.

  A nymph healer, maybe.

  What else could she be with that shoulder-length white hair glowing around her head, barefoot and clothes half on? He’d gotten a look at her stomach when she’d first dropped off the table and the slashed wound had been bleeding.

  But as she’d turned to run just now, her ripped shirt exposed the same spot on her stomach, covered in unblemished creamy skin.

  Not even a scar.

  My power kills. Those words echoed in his mind. Everything about her had been a contradiction. She’d killed a jackal, then healed Rory, then warned him to stay away from her or ... what? Her power would kill him?

  She’d damn sure taken down that other jackal. With her bare hands no less.

  What the hell was she?

  He’d wanted to chase her. So had his cat, but Rory had to be here now and his beast couldn’t be trusted not to go rushing after the nymph.

  Something about the way she averted her gaze bugged him.

  She’d been around shifters. Maybe she normally kept her eyes down around the alphas and was just being careful.

  He felt the skin on his shoulder moving and looked down to see the wound continuing to heal. Relief washed over him. About damn time. His healing had been getting slower and slower lately. The last thing he needed was the Guardian noticing.

  The noise of Justin and Vic fighting the bounty hunters out front quieted down.

  Shit, if things had gone as planned, that meant one of the other shifters, probably a wolf,
should be on the run. If he came this way, he’d see the dead guards. Rory hoped the escaping wolf would be too invested in running to pay attention, but who knew?

  This direction made the most sense based on the recon Rory had been able to do when they first arrived, but he had no guarantee the runner would head this direction for sure. That was the thing about a busted op. You had to rely on possible outcomes.

  If Rory shifted into his jaguar, he could communicate with Justin and Vic telepathically, but only if they had also shifted into their animals.

  As a Gallize, they avoided shifting unless there was no other option.

  Rory moved around to find a hiding spot and wait for the runner.

  It didn’t take long.

  But now he had a new issue.

  If the guard racing into the dead jackal scene was the expected runner, he’d shifted into a brown wolf.

  Ferrell growled softly, his happy sound, because he knew they had to shift to keep pace.

  The wolf skidded to a stop and took in the bloody scene, then lifted his nose and turned his head until he faced the thicket Rory hid behind.

  Calling up the change, Rory groaned as his clothes shredded so Ferrell could take his place.

  With Ferrell loose, Rory fought to hold his beast back. Ferrell would never stand down with a predator coming for them.

  When the wolf lowered his head and stared hard at the thicket, his eyes glowed yellow, with tiny pupils. Too tiny for the fading light.

  That one could be on the Black River pack’s crazy juice.

  Rory’s jaguar sent him a new visual of a wolf laying on his back and exposing his belly.

  Sure. That wolf would just roll over and give up.

  Listen to me, Ferrell, Rory said telepathically. The only experience you have fighting a shifter jacked up on Jugo Loco was that jackal, and he was a dud. Let the wolf come to us and make the first mistake.

  Ferrell answered by bunching his muscles for an attack.

  I thought you weren’t ready to die, Rory muttered silently to the crazy cat.

  As the wolf crept forward cautiously, Rory doubled down on his control to keep Ferrell from leaping first. He called out telepathically to Justin, hoping this wolf meant his teammates had changed as well. Rory said, The runner ain’t runnin’. He stopped where I had to take out two jackals. His eyes are crazed like he’s whacked out on BRP juice and he’s scented my jaguar. We’re gonna tangle any second.