by Debra Dunbar
Here goes nothing. “Karl, you could have been getting laid hundreds of times in the last year. All you had to do was call.”
His eyebrows furrowed and he tilted his head. “Don’t like using a phone. Don’t even have one. And sex is once a year.”
No. Just no. Please don’t have me lusting after a shifter with a sex drive that only kicked in once per year. But we’d done it in August, and bear shifters typically sought out a sow in March and April, so they had to at least get horny two or three times per year. None of that would be enough for me. I wondered if we could meet in the middle—as in every other day in the middle.
“You could have sent a letter, a courier, smoke signals. And Karl? Sex for me is ideally an everyday occurrence. Twice or three times a day if I’m on a roll.”
Desire rolled off him and I nearly wrecked the car. Dang it all, I was wet, and struggling to keep my attention on the road.
He grunted. And didn’t say one more word even after we arrived at the murder scene. The bodies were long gone, but nobody did a crime scene clean-up out in the middle of nowhere, especially when the local police knew we needed as much scent as possible.
The both of us hopped out of the Jeep. I did a slow half-circle of the area, careful not to cross any obvious scent trail—not that I couldn’t tell my own smell from that of others. There was blood, lots of blood. It was sprayed on the trees, soaked into the ground, splattered onto the bushes. This rogue had been pissed, and he’d slashed these five humans to ribbons judging from all the stains of red.
Blood. Urine. And that horrible smell that comes when large intestines get lacerated and all the half-digested food and bacteria hits the air.
“Someone shot him,” Karl said. I walked over to where he was and knelt down, sniffing. The human blood was still strong in my nose—overpoweringly strong, but this here was shifter blood.
“It’s not a lot,” I commented. But it was more than there should have been. Shifters healed fast. It was a mixed blessing when it came to gunshot wounds. As nice as it was to have your wound clotting and scabbing immediately, and healed within an hour, it wasn’t so nice when that happened with a bullet still lodged in your body. Getting shot worked better when there was someone nearby to quickly get the bullet out, otherwise, you had to go through it all over again once they cut it out of your healed flesh.
“Didn’t clot,” Karl grumbled, sticking his finger in the blood and eyeing it. “Smells weird too.”
I immediately thought about the shifter hunters up in Kenai. They were to blame for one grizzly shifter death, possibly two, and had shot both Brent and Leon from the Swift River Pack. Those wounds didn’t heal, and they festered, spreading a poison that would eventually kill a shifter. The only reason Brent and Leon had made it was because Kennedy had been there, and she was a quick-thinking trauma surgeon badass who was one of the best shots with a rifle I’d ever known.
Magically coated bullets were what we’d discovered when Kennedy dug the shrapnel out of Brent and Leon. But these five humans weren’t hunters out on a private, illegal, expedition to kill shifters. These were scientists. What in the world would they have been doing with the tainted bullets? Honestly, I was surprised they even were carrying a gun.
We both stood and looked around, having gained as much information as we could in this form. To better track the rogue, at least one of us would need to be on four feet.
“You or me, big guy?”
Karl grunted.
“That a ‘me’ grunt, or a ‘you’ grunt?”
“Your nose is better than mine,” he grumbled reluctantly. “’Sides, wouldn’t mind seeing you naked again.”
Oh, Lord. I wasn’t about to argue against that, so I walked back to the Jeep and peeled off my shirt. Karl leaned against the tailgate, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes glued to my chest.
“Want me to carry your clothes for when you shift back?” he asked.
The heat of his gaze was disconcerting, and I had to pause to gather my thoughts. “Yes, please. It gets cold at night and I might need to shift back before we return.” I hoped to shift back before we returned, because a wolf screwing a grizzly was kind of weird and I had a feeling we’d be doing it in the next twenty-four hours. At least, that was what I hoped.
“You won’t get cold at night.”
I caught my breath, then exhaled as I unbuttoned my pants and shimmied them down my legs. Karl’s eyes followed their motion.
“Take my clothes, just in case you change your mind.”
He grunted. “I’ll take your clothes, but I’m not changing my mind. You’re a damned fine lay, wolf. Been thinking about you all year, waiting for the next barbeque.”
Damn. Damn. I pulled off my underwear and my bra and began my shift, well aware of how horrible the whole long process appeared. Karl was a grizzly shifter. He wouldn’t be turned off by twisting bones and contorting muscles. Normally I was insensible with pain during my fifteen-minute shift, but I noticed Karl gathering up my clothes, carefully folding each item and packing them in my duffle bag, except for the underwear. Those he brought to his face, inhaling deeply. His eyes flared gold, glowing with a supernatural light. I didn’t even feel the pain of my shift, I was so turned on just from watching him take in my scent, watching the desire on his face and smelling the thick aroma of pheromones that filled the clean forest air.
But I was now a wolf, and as much as I wanted this bear, we needed to both be in human form to make that happen. I wasn’t a prude by any definition, but that was where I drew the line. Maybe. I’d never had sex with another shifter breed before. Some werewolves enjoyed getting it on in their animal form. But wolf-wolf was different than wolf-bear, and far different than human-wolf or human-bear.
And why was I even thinking about this? Having sex once in a year was clearly eroding my sense of morality.
Karl grinned, brushing the silk of my underwear across his lips before folding them and putting them in the duffle bag. “First time I’ve seen your animal.”
I’d never seen his. And I was suddenly very concerned what he thought of my wolf. Some shifters felt a strong division between themselves and their beast, almost as though they were suffering from Multiple Personality Disorder. Others were all one. My wolf and I were of the same mind. There was no division, and although I often referred to my wolf as a separate entity, she was merely a facet of my own personality—a more instinctual and physical facet. Although even in human form I tended to be more instinctual and physical than most humans.
“Silver with tawny streaks. Eyes like dark roast coffee. Muscular. Strong. I wouldn’t want to face you in a fight.”
I warmed at his praise, even though I knew he, as a grizzly shifter, could kick my ass in a fight. Then he walked over and stroked my head, scratching behind my ears. I closed my eyes and leaned against his hand, nearly toppling as he moved his fingers down along my spine to rub right at the joint of my tailbone. Oh, ecstasy. I danced my back legs, lifting my nose to the sky and arching my back as I pressed my rear against his hand.
He chuckled. “That’s the spot, huh? You know, like beast, like human. I’m gonna hit that ass at the barbeque. Or before, if you’re in rut. Although it sounds like you’re always in rut.”
This was so embarrassing. I sounded like a total slut by his description, and I could do nothing but groan and push against his palm.
“I like standing here and rubbing you, but guessing we best catch this rogue first.”
Yeah. That. I sighed and pulled away from his magic fingers, dropping my nose to the grass. Starting from the outer edges of the crime scene, I worked my way in a spiral inward. Karl waited outside the area, watching me with a hooded gaze. Everything was so crisp and clear in this form, every scent like a distinct shade or color. The odor formed trails extending outward. I sorted and catalogued each one, the humans with their distinct aromas—and the killer. As Brent had said, the rogue was definitely a bear, and from what my nose told me a brown b
ear. I wasn’t as savvy in determining the difference between Kodiak, grizzly, and the standard brown bear, but I could tell them apart from black bears and polar bears. This scent had a different tang than Karl, whose aroma I’d memorized with intimate detail, but I wasn’t sure if that was just an individual or a race difference.
Looking over toward Karl and tilting my head, I headed into the brush. He followed. I rolled my eyes hearing the crash of his booted feet on the branches and ground. Grizzlies. When you were an apex predator, you didn’t give a crap if anyone heard you.
Blocking out the background noise, I followed the scent, moving slowly to make sure I didn’t miss anything. By nightfall I was hungry and tired and ready to call it quits until morning. We hadn’t yet found the rogue, but as I’d tracked him I’d discovered a few things. And if I wanted to share those things with Karl, I’d need to change back into human form.
It was quite a dilemma. As a wolf I’d be toasty warm and comfortable sleeping on the hard ground tonight, plus I’d be in the form best equipped to defend myself if the rogue doubled back and attacked us in the night. Human form meant I could tell Karl what I’d discovered and have a better chance of getting some action, although it probably wasn’t a good idea to be distracted with sexual activity when there was a killer on the loose.
Switching back and forth was an option, but a last-resort one. It took me fifteen minutes to change form, ten if I was rushing it. And shifting exhausted me. One or two changes I could deal with. Three and I’d be dipping into energy reserves I might need if we were attacked. So I needed to pick one or the other.
Karl had set my bag in a dry spot and stood beside it, his back against the trunk of a sturdy tree, his eyes glowing slightly as he watched me. “Come here.”
I pawed at the ground to convey my indecision.
“I’ll tell you what I know, then you can decide if you want to stay a wolf or not,” he said. “The rogue is a male grizzly, about fifty years old and I’m guessing seven hundred to seven fifty pounds given the tracks and the broken brush and tree limbs. His winding path makes me think he’s truly a rogue and not just a grumpy bear who had a bone to pick with a group of humans.”
In other words, the bear was crazy. Which meant an already dangerous grizzly was even more unpredictable and lethal.
“He doesn’t smell right. I can even tell that with this nose. From the trail, he’s probably a half-day out, but with a rogue there’s no saying he won’t come back around.” Karl’s expression was serious as he stared at me. “Wolf or human tonight, that’s your choice. I won’t run the risk that he’ll come back around and I’m not ready.”
And with a nod he turned and shucked his pants, giving me a breathtaking view of his tight ass as he strode off into the woods. I knew when he meant. He’d be in bear form tonight. And if he was going to prepare for an attack, I was too.
I was second to the Alpha, not some helpless damsel to stand by while Karl fought the rogue single-handedly. Brent had told me to hold back, to let the grizzly shifter deal with one of his own, but I knew that wasn’t how this was going to go down. I’d fight beside Karl. I’d always fight beside him. My dominant wolf nature demanded it, and so did the human side of me.
My decision made dinner a little difficult. Using my teeth and a strategically placed paw I managed to get the outer pocket of my duffle bag open and tear through a packet of beef jerky, eating the whole thing. There were another three bags in there along with a summer sausage, but I got the feeling that Karl was out getting his own food.
Less than an hour later I heard the crash of something large moving through the trees, and heard the low grumble of a big bear. I felt the fur rise in a line along my back and neck, my lip curling to reveal fangs, but then I lifted my nose to the air and realized the grizzly lumbering into the clearing was Karl.
Even recognizing his smell, I still braced myself, adrenaline flying through my veins. He was huge. Bigger than a polar bear huge. Karl’s grizzly form was at least ten feet long and six feet at the shoulder. Yeah. As a bear, he would be more than twice my height standing upright. He had to have weighed over a thousand pounds. Brown bears came in a variety of shades and markings, but Karl was distinct. He was blond, his gold fur deepening to brown on his lower legs and paws. And those paws were huge with claws as long as my human hand. He was enormous, powerful, his jaws big enough to crush my head. And in those jaws was a fish…a fish he deposited at my feet.
Uhhh, this was awkward. Was I supposed to eat this? I didn’t know much about grizzlies, but I tended to cook my food first. Maybe I could pretend it was sashimi—sashimi that had been carried around in a bear’s mouth for who-knows-how-long, and hadn’t been gutted, cleaned, or filleted. I was a dominant wolf, but I wasn’t a caveman…or cavewoman.
Karl made a huff noise and sat on his big furry rump, looking at me with brown bear-eyes that still had those familiar gold glints. I reached over and patted the empty beef jerky bag trying to communicate that I’d already eaten.
He still stared at me, waiting.
The things I do for sex. Closing my eyes, I took a tentative bite of the fish, trying not to gag. The skin was rough, the scales sharp, and the rubbery bones poked my gums as I chewed. The meat wasn’t horrible, though. It was fresh, tangy, but very, very fishy.
One bite was it. I stared down at the fish, but try as I may I couldn’t manage to choke down any more of this. I looked up to meet Karl’s intense gaze and flattened my ears, trying for a cute puppy expression. His furry eyebrows shot up.
Seriously? I hadn’t seen him eat any fish. For all I knew he was totally pranking me right now. Come next month’s barbeque there would be all sorts of stories about how he got Sabrina to eat a raw fish.
Yes, he was serious. One courtesy bite should have been enough, but evidently I was required by some bear etiquette to continue, so I ate another bite, gagging and choking as I forced it down. I couldn’t do this, I just couldn’t. Maybe I was a wimp, but the next bite was going to either get me into guts or head, and I just wasn’t going there.
Karl huffed then nudged me aside, nearly knocking me over. Then he snapped up the remains of the fish, crunched it with those massive jaws, and gulped it down.
I was so going to puke. Karl the human was smoking hot. Karl the grizzly was scary, and more animal in his bear form than I was in my wolf form. I dug into a second bag of jerky, just to get the taste of raw fish out of my mouth, and shared some with Karl. He was warm and I had every intention on snuggling up with him tonight. Better for the pair of us to have jerky breath than fish breath.
Then we curled up together underneath a tree, my muzzle against his shoulder, feeling the breath rise and fall in his chest, his scent filling my nose with clove, pine, and fur. There was something inside me that wouldn’t settle being near him like this, a deep rooted instinct that was reluctant to trust him. Because he was a grizzly shifter? Because he was so darned huge? Because he’d crunched up a raw fish whole? Or because those glittery gold flecks in his eyes let me see a glimpse of a Karl I didn’t understand—a shifter that seemed more beast than man. Outside of the incredible sex last summer, what did I really share in common with him?
Nothing, that’s what. Absolutely nothing. But that still didn’t tell me why his bear form made me wary, why the things I could overlook in Karl the human seemed right in front of my face when he was Karl the grizzly. Maybe I was imagining it all, blowing our difference out of proportion and giving him a darkness that in reality wasn’t there. Maybe it was a day of scenting a rogue in the woods that had me on edge. Wild man didn’t mean amoral psychopath serial killer. I’d had sex with this man—a whole lot of sex. Rough sex, but nothing shifters would find disturbing. If I trusted him enough to screw him all night long, then surely I trusted him enough to sleep next to him.
I pushed away the worry. I soothed the prickling along my back. I forced my eyes to close and my mind to drift into peaceful sleep. But as I floated into slumber, all I could se
e was gold flecks of light in hazel irises—gold flecks that hid something very dark.
3
I awoke to find my muzzle resting on skin, long fingers curled tightly into the ruff around my neck. Flesh instead of fur, but Karl’s scent was still the same wild spice-and-pine as it had been when he was a bear. When had he changed? How had I slept so soundly that I hadn’t awoken to either a bear moving out from underneath me or shifting form?
“Ready for some breakfast?” His voice was deep and raspy, his fingers loosening to stroke along my fur.
Breakfast. I remembered the taste of the raw fish and shuddered.
He chuckled. “Such a princess. I can gather some berries, but I’m guessing you’d rather have that log of cooked meat in your duffle?”
The summer sausage. My mouth watered at the thought.
“Here. Since I’ve got hands at the moment and you don’t.” He took the meat from my bag and flicked open a knife, cutting hunks off and feeding them to me by hand. A girl could get used to this.
And I realized that in the light of day, with Karl in his human form, the unease I’d felt last night had receded. It hadn’t completely vanished. It was still lurking deep inside me, dancing at the edges of my awareness, but at least I didn’t feel the urge to bristle up my fur and snarl.
Karl handed me another piece and I took it gently, giving his fingers a quick appreciative lick. The taste of his skin sent a bolt of need through me and I closed my eyes, remembering last summer when I’d tasted every inch of him.
“You’re making me hard, Brina,” he complained. “I don’t mind taking you like this, but if you couldn’t manage to eat a raw fish, I doubt you’d be able to enjoy me fucking you in your wolf form.”
Yeah, that crossed uncomfortably into bestiality in my mind. That it wouldn’t bother him the way it bothered me was yet another reminder of how far apart we were.