by Zoe Chant
"Bears don't make nests, you dumbass," Cody muttered.
"Yeah," Frank said, "we were just minding our business up here when some enormous bear came out of nowhere and attacked us."
Alec prodded him with the muzzle of his shotgun, making him squeal. "That bear you're talking about is named Gannon, and he's a valued member of my clan. Did you hurt him? The answer had better be 'no'."
"Did we hurt him?" Fred wailed.
"Yeah, he took our clothes and guns and tied us up."
"As a bear?" Alec said skeptically.
"He changed back," Frank said, and the prisoners both shuddered. "And he wasn't any less terrifying then."
"Well," Remy said, grinning, "I can't really argue with 'em there."
Axl didn't smile. "Who sent you? How did you find us?"
"If we're under arrest, I want a lawyer," Fred said sullenly.
With a low snarl, Axl dropped his gun and shifted. Where a wet, naked man had stood, now a huge grizzly hulked. The great shaggy hump of his shoulders was on the level of Tara's head.
But Tara felt no fear. He was hers, and she was his. The small scar on her neck, already nearly healed, said that she never needed to fear him, in his bear form or otherwise.
She placed her hand on his side, burying it in the thick fur, to let them know whose side she was on, and who her allies were.
The captive thugs turned white, especially when Axl curled his lips back from his long, sharp teeth and let out a rumbling growl. Tara felt his muscular side vibrate under her hand.
"You know," Alec said conversationally, "we only need one of you to answer questions ..."
"Who hired you?" Tara demanded. "Answer fast, I don't know how long I can hold him back."
Axl thrust his enormous head forward, right in their faces. He opened his mouth and roared.
As the echoes died away, Fred began to babble. "You know already, don't you? It was Dick Bannon, that asshole, but he never paid us what this job was worth. I had no idea we'd have to run all over the entire stupid country after you, and no one said anything about bears—"
"Hush," Tara said, and Axl backed it up with a deep growl, making Fred's mouth snap hastily shut. The beginnings of a plan were starting to take shape in her mind. "Would you be willing to testify to that? In court, I mean?"
"If it means not being eaten by bears?" Frank managed to squeak out. "Hell yes."
Axl shifted back. He was smiling fiercely, showing teeth. "Okay, now you're under arrest. Right to remain silent, and so forth. Could one of you guys untie their legs so they can walk?"
They escorted the two thugs down the hillside at gunpoint. Tara was thoroughly soaked now, from her sodden hair to the skirt clinging to her legs. At least she'd chosen to wear the plaid shirt today; her white shirt would've turned see-through by now. She wished she'd thought to grab the borrowed rain slicker before leaving the house, but she hadn't exactly been thinking clearly at the time.
How could Alec and Axl stand it? They were both buck naked, but neither of them seemed concerned in the slightest by either their nudity or the cold.
Goes along with being a bear shifter, I guess.
And it seemed that she couldn't have asked for better allies. When the county sheriff had spotted her yesterday, and recognized her as a fugitive, she would never have guessed that she'd end up so glad of it.
As they approached the porch, they slowed. There was a small pile of items in the middle of the worn decking that had not been there when they left. Most of it was clothing, including two pairs of expensive-looking leather shoes that looked highly impractical for walking around in cow pastures. On top was a rifle made of rugged black plastic and a couple of snub-nosed handguns.
"Hey!" Fred said. "That's our stuff."
"Well, you're not getting it back." Axl mounted the steps and nudged the pile with his foot. "Thanks, Gannon," he said to nowhere in particular.
Tara wasn't sure what made her look up just then—up the sloping green hill, toward the mist-cloaked mountains. Maybe it was a sound; maybe it was just an ancient instinct, the sense that she was being watched.
Through the mist and falling rain, she caught a glimpse of a huge dark-colored grizzly. A scar bisected its face, slanting under one eye and down its cheek to vanish into the thick ruff of fur around its neck. It was looking right at her.
A chill ran down her spine.
The grizzly dipped its head, then turned and lumbered off into the rain.
So that was the mysterious Gannon. She'd have to meet him properly one of these days.
If I stay, she reminded herself. She had to keep in mind that Alec and Axl's fight had been interrupted. Her future at the ranch was still very much undecided.
She fetched her backpack out of the Chevy and took it into the bedroom to change. She wondered if she ought to be more nervous having the two hitmen who'd been trying to kill her in the room next door, but she wasn't. They were being guarded by four bear shifters, all of whom would happily shift and eat them if they tried anything.
Well ... hopefully not eat them. That would be really unpleasant. But certainly scare them a lot.
As she peeled off her soaked, clinging shirt, the door opened. Tara flinched and tried to pull the shirt closed over her bra, then sighed and let it fall open again when she saw it was only Axl. And he was still naked. He grinned when he saw her, and closed the door behind him.
"Sure you don't want to be there for this?" he asked. "As soon as I promised these two a reduced sentence if they'd testify against Bannon, they started singing like a couple of top-dollar canaries."
"I don't think I want to know all the details." She hadn't realized the feeling of betrayal was still so painful, even after having months to fade. "Can you actually make a deal with them by yourself?"
"Well ... no. Not unilaterally. I'll need to run this by a judge, and talk to the prosecutor in whatever jurisdiction they're eventually tried in. But I can't imagine they won't go for it. Cooperative witnesses make the conviction process a lot easier."
Without warning, he picked her up under the arms and spun her around. Tara squeaked. She'd just managed to get the shirt off, and now the safety pin holding up the skirt came unfastened. It flew off to land in a wet lump on the floor. Her wet hair slapped her shoulders.
"Careful!" she gasped.
Axl stopped twirling her, but he still held her above him. Tara laced her damp, bare arms loosely around his neck.
"You know what this means?" He grinned up at her. "You've got a solid start to a case against Dick Bannon. You've got two witnesses to your side of the story, and when we trace the payments, we can hopefully prove Bannon was paying them off. Hell, a white-collar crime like embezzling might just get a slap on the wrist, but attempted murder is a different story entirely."
"I don't want him to just go down for that, though. I want him to go down for everything."
"Look, let's call this the start of a win, okay?" He gave her another spin, until she was laughing breathlessly.
"Stop—put me down—I'm going to get sick, Axl!"
"You look just fine to me." He adjusted her in his arms to bring her in for a kiss. It was long, slow, gentle, nibbling at her lips and exploring her mouth with his tongue. By the time he was done, she couldn't tell if they were still spinning or if it was just her head.
"Axl, put me down. I need to get dressed."
"You look fine to me."
"I'm wearing wet underwear. It's not comfortable."
"You could take it off." He sucked her lips a little more, then nibbled down her neck to swipe his tongue across the claiming mark. An electric shiver went through her, all the way down to her toes.
"Everyone's in the living room," she murmured into his ear. "They'll hear us."
He shifted his grip so he was holding her up with one powerful arm, and peeled off her damp panties in a quick motion. "So you'll have to be very quiet."
Then he slipped a finger into her.
Tara cho
ked on a gasp. She was already wet and slick, and his finger went in without resistance, stroking her inner walls. The tingling from the bite mark on her neck was now a rush of heat, pooling in her middle.
Axl's erection pressed against her buttock. He was so shockingly strong, able to hold her off the floor with one arm, while his other hand pumped in and out, adding another finger. His thumb brushed her clit. She was dripping now, moisture trickling down her leg.
"I think I'm going to come just from this," she whispered.
Axl licked the mark on her neck and then unexpectedly bit down on it, not hard enough to break the skin, applying just enough pressure to send a sharp flare of sensation through her body. That did it; she bucked and came with a burst of light behind her eyes. Axl's mouth covered hers, and she shuddered through the shockwaves as he kissed her deeply, exploring her mouth with his tongue.
When she was done, he pulled his fingers out gently and released her mouth. She blinked at him, noodle-limp and dazed.
"How's that for a celebration?" he murmured, grinning.
His erection still pushed against her. She freed a hand from his neck and reached down to wrap her fingers around his hard shaft. "I don't think it's a proper party if only one person goes away with a party favor," she whispered back.
He was already wet at the tip, slick enough that she could pump her hand back and forth with no preparation. She shifted her leg, moving it so that her legs were wrapped around his hips and now his full, hard cock rested against her inner thigh.
Responding to her desires without words, Axl gripped her buttocks and adjusted her to just the right angle. She guided his cock into her entrance. She was already soaking and sensitive from her earlier orgasm, and she took him up to the balls.
"God," he whispered, pressing the side of his face against hers. "You feel so good."
She was too lightheaded and too focused on the need to remain quiet to answer him.
Still buried balls-deep inside her, he took a cautious step forward, then another. She sucked in a breath as each step moved his cock inside her—but not like the pounding of in-and-out thrusts. It was more like a gentle circling motion. She hadn't realized it was possible to be more aroused than she already was, but waves of intense pleasure lapped through her. It was almost orgasmic, except she hadn't quite recovered enough from her first orgasm to go again. Instead, it was like a low-level continual orgasm that went on and on.
I didn't know it was possible to feel this good.
Axl stopped when her back pressed against the wall. Now he began to thrust, slow and gentle. The wall of the farmhouse had been built to last, and the sturdy beams took each thrust without creaking.
His strong hands held her hips steady; the wall held her in place. Old wallpaper, patterned with roses, crinkled under her spine. She let her head fall forward and rest on Axl's shoulder, breathing in his spicy musk. Shuddering, she held herself back from the orgasm she could feel building in her, wanting to go over the edge together with him.
"Tara," he murmured into her hair. "I'm going to—it's coming—"
"Do it," she whispered. He thrust harder, and molten pleasure spread from her core outward. She set her lips against the soft skin of his neck, and then opened her mouth wider and, going on pure instinct, bit down, pressing her teeth against his skin.
Axl jerked and his body arched as he emptied himself into her. The tactile awareness of his moment of ecstasy took her over the edge herself, riding the wave until she came down slowly, jerkily, collapsing back into her body again.
"You're amazing," Axl whispered, kissing her. His lips were salty, from the sweat of sex and the blood of the bear. "How did you know to do that?"
"It was just a guess. It feels so good when you do it to me."
She drew back a little, her head clunking lightly against the wall. In the soft crook where his neck met his shoulder, there were two small, perfect semicircles of purple bite marks. They were fading even as she watched, vanishing as his shifter's body healed the bruises. She felt a twinge of regret. His claiming mark was permanent, but hers would have to be renewed each time.
I think I'll enjoy doing that.
He went lax, easing out of her. As her intense pleasure faded into a pleasant looseness, she became aware that she was still damp from the rain, and still wearing her wet bra. "I'd better get dressed before they wonder what's taking so long," she whispered.
A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. "I don't think they're wondering."
She gave him a playful smack, and he set her gently on her feet. Her legs wobbled and she had to catch herself on the wall.
Axl, she noticed, was steady on his feet. In fact, there was nothing remaining of the bullet wound but a patch of pink new skin on his leg. The claw marks had healed almost entirely, and even the savage wounds on his shoulder, which had been a wet red mess earlier, had faded to a patchwork of slightly paler skin, standing out against his tan.
Amazing.
She dumped her clean clothes out of the backpack onto the bed and began to dress. "Can you heal anything?" she asked. For a moment the scar on Gannon's face leaped into her mind, vivid as a photo. What kind of wound would it take, to cause a scar that even a shifter couldn't heal?
"Well, obviously not anything. We can die." Sadness crossed his face, and she inwardly kicked herself.
"Your parents. I'm sorry." She hadn't realized until now that his parents must have died of something catastrophic. Axl and his brother didn't look any older than their thirties, certainly not old enough for their parents to have died of old age.
"Alec took it harder than I did. I've moved on—I mean, as much as you can ever move on from something like that."
"I know," she said softly, thinking of her mother.
"I know you do. But eventually you do move forward. Or most of us do. I don't think Alec ever quite made it out of those early days, when we were both sunk in grief. A part of him is still there."
She pulled a clean sweater over her head, thinking of the words Axl had hurled at his brother just before their fight had erupted into violence. I miss Mom and Dad too, but I didn't turn myself into a hermit when they died ...
When her head peeked out of the sweater neck, she said, "Remy told me that since neither of you won the fight, you'll just have to keep fighting again and again until one of you does."
"Yeah," Axl said. His arms were crossed, his eyes unhappy and distant. "Unless we can work it out some other way."
She went into his arms, and he caught her up in an embrace. For a few moments, they stood in silence, resting against each other.
"I want to help," Tara said, a little muffled by his chest. "It's not just your job to fix things with your brother. We're partners now. I want to show him I can be a proper mate for you, but I don't know how."
"No. It isn't your job to fix things. And it isn't mine. It's Alec's job to be a responsible alpha and accept that it's my right to choose my own mate. And if he can't, we'll go somewhere else."
"My sweet, strong bear," she whispered. But her mind was already spinning, trying to think of solutions. She could already imagine the look of heartbreak on Axl's face if he was forced to leave the ranch he loved, driving a wedge between Axl and the brother he loved just as much. Would he come to resent her for it? She very much hoped not, but she loathed the idea of making him choose. There had to be a way.
When Tara was a little girl, her father used to tell her that the best way to come up with a solution to a problem was to think about something else entirely. And that certainly seemed to be the case here. Her spinning mind flailed around, trying to find a way to fix things with Alec, and ended up settling onto an idea for her Dick Bannon problem instead.
"I don't know how to get Alec to accept me," she said slowly. "But I think I might have a plan for taking care of Dick once and for all."
Chapter Eleven: Tara
It felt very strange to sit at a table in Marge's Diner as a customer, rather than collapsing i
nto one of the plastic-and-metal chairs to get off her feet in the middle of a twelve-hour shift. Tara didn't feel quite right having Sammie Jo or the other waitress working today—Tiff, a college student on summer break—wait on her. If she wanted a refill on her coffee, she got up to get it herself.
The appointment she was here for wasn't until mid-afternoon, but she'd been in the diner since morning. Sammie had offered her help immediately when Axl and Tara explained what they wanted to use her diner for.
"It might be dangerous," Axl said. "We're hoping not, but the guy's a loose cannon." He frowned down at Tara. "I hate having her involved at all, but she wouldn't take no for an answer."
"You skipped the part where it was my idea," Tara retorted. "One thing you better get used to, Sheriff Tanner—I'm not the kind of woman who sits around while the big tough guys fix my problems for me."
Now here she was, drinking endless cups of diner coffee and poking at a burger and fries that she didn't have any appetite for. She knew Axl was not far away, but she still felt very alone. Since they didn't want to tip off Dick and weren't quite sure when he'd arrive, Axl was staying out of sight.
She slipped a hand into her pocket and touched the little digital recorder Axl had given her, taken from his equipment at the station. All she had to do was tap a button and it would come on. While it was recording, it would also be broadcasting so Axl could hear everything in the back.
She just prayed her nervousness wouldn't give her away and make her blow it. The whole plan hinged on Dick not realizing he was being recorded.
She'd called Dick last night from the phone at the ranch house. With Axl standing behind her, his big arms folded around her and his broad chest at her back, she had found his voice easier to take than she'd expected. Dick couldn't hurt her anymore. She was safe.
"I must say, I didn't expect you to call," he said in smooth tones when she'd identified herself.
"Why? Because I'm supposed to be six feet under?"
Axl's hand moved in soothing circles on her thigh, then clasped her free hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.