by Anna Lowe
A son.
He stumbled, barely able to see, to think, to react.
Todd! Soren called after him, but he kept right on toward the door.
Todd! Sarah pleaded, echoing her mate.
He strode out the front room of the saloon and burst through the doors. Harsh Arizona sunlight hit him like a spotlight, and he was sure he heard destiny’s cruel cackle in the breeze. He bumped into someone and just managed to stammer an apology before rushing across the street. All he could think was away. He needed to get away. From fate. From reality. From everything.
God, he’d never felt so tired or so at a loss. All his life, he’d heard the stories about destiny and fate and a greater design. And damn it, he’d believed them. He’d done everything a good bear should do. He served his clan. Put others before himself. He’d toiled. Sacrificed. Respected. But the past year — and especially today — had slowly torn apart that sacred temple in his mind. Maybe there was no such thing as all-powerful fate. Or if there was, fate was a cruel master, not the benign force he’d been suckered into believing in. He’d followed the rules all his life, not for his own reward, but because doing good was right.
But Jesus, was he wrong about that? About everything?
His shoes scuffed over asphalt, then over flagstones, then the cushioned surface of the park’s lush lawn. He’d stomped halfway across the park before pulling up short. Where the hell was he going? Why?
It was like a plug had been pulled. The last scraps of energy, the last breath of fire went out of him, and he sank onto a bench, holding his head in his hands. He concentrated on breathing instead of thinking and on the inch of space between his face and his knees.
A son. Jesus, he had a son.
No, we don’t, his bear mourned. Soren does.
He covered his eyes, trying to erase that thought with something else. A plan. He had to make a plan.
Like what? his bear demanded.
Maybe he’d head back to the woods, shift back into bear form, and stay that way. Forever, preferably. Being a bear was easier because the world boiled down to hot/cold, hungry/full, awake/asleep. Not a lot more. Bears were more about today than yesterday or tomorrow, right?
Deep inside his body, his bear growled in dissent. I feel. I think. I hurt. Doesn’t matter if I’m on two feet or four. That won’t make this ache go away.
He ran his hands into his hair and hung on, just to have something to hang on to.
His head felt like it was going to explode. He clenched his teeth and clawed at his scalp, trying to make it go away. That didn’t work, though. Neither did rocking a little or breathing slower or faster or more evenly. Nothing worked.
Until a featherlight touch warmed his shoulder, and his racing heart slowed down a little bit. The next breath he took didn’t bounce over the previous one. It just slid down his throat, and although the air was dry as a bone in this godforsaken place, it felt good. So he concentrated on that.
The feather moved, making his breathing stretch and slow down, matching the motion on his shoulder. His jaw unlocked, and his fingers retreated from the roots of his hair. Maybe he didn’t have to tear it out today. Maybe things would be okay.
Something shifted by his side, and the only strange thing about it was that it didn’t trigger a thousand alarms in his mind. His brain didn’t ask who or why or what was responsible. It just…relaxed a little bit. The hammering inside his skull eased, replaced by a sound. A faint whisper, like a little tap into his subconscious, and he strained to hear.
“Are you okay?”
He caught it on the second or third time. Something about the voice was familiar, and he looked up.
Emerald eyes. Freckles. A mane of thick, dark hair. Pencil-thin eyebrows, and above them, wispy bangs that didn’t quite cover lines of concern.
A woman. A woman who was familiar, somehow.
Her lips moved again, and he itched for a slow-motion, zoomed-in replay because it was that nice to watch.
Was he okay? Not really. But having her close made things a little more bearable, somehow.
His inner beast started pacing. Sniffing. Maybe even hoping.
“Sure. Fine.” He wasn’t sure if he really heard his own voice or just imagined it in his head. He was too busy watching her lips perk at the corners in a tiny dawn of a smile. Like daybreak in winter when the sun barely peeked over the mountains. When a deep layer of snow covered everything, making the world seem peaceful and soft.
“You sure?” She tilted her head.
He nodded. A cardinal swooped by, and it occurred to him that he couldn’t hear it. A rusty old dump truck bounced down the street, and though he could feel the rattle and screech in his bones, it didn’t register as much more than a faint scratch in his ears. A mom wheeled a baby stroller past, and the child was gesturing and moving its mouth, but he couldn’t hear that, either. Every sound in his universe was switched off, except the voice of the woman beside him.
He could hear her. It was faint, but he caught every word. He could feel the words, too, because she had a way of putting meaning into sound with unconscious cues that some sixth sense helped him pick up on.
A long, quiet moment passed as he marveled at that fact. His bear made satisfied, rumbling noises that vibrated in his chest.
Mine. Mate.
Having her there brought such a calm over him, even his bear’s words didn’t stress him out.
“Hi,” she whispered, suddenly shy. When she pulled her hand from his shoulder, he wanted to grab it and put it back. She twirled a finger in her hair for a moment then stuck her hand out, offering a shake. “I’m Anna.”
A faint memory started elbowing its way through the crowded mess that his mind had become, hooting and hollering from the back. I know her! I know her!
“Hi,” he whispered, wrapping his hand around hers and squeezing just enough to satisfy his bear’s urge to claim while gently enough not to crush.
Careful, his bear hollered. Don’t hurt her. Protect her.
It felt as if he’d been pulled out of a blizzard and thrown into a cozy cabin with a fireplace. He was dazed and content. The rest of the world felt distant and vague, but that was okay, too. Why not bask in this one hint of goodness for a little while?
He was about to close his eyes and do just that when an itch set in on the back of his neck. An itch that started to burn, especially when Anna’s eyes caught sight of something behind him and went wide. That perfect, expressive mouth frowned, and her nostrils flared. The acrid scent of fear washed off her.
He jumped to his feet and whirled, scanning the scene. What had frightened her? What danger was out there?
Using his left hand, he guided her back a step, and with his right, he did his best to pull without actually yanking her behind his back. Every hair on his body bristled as he tested the air and searched for who or what it might be. The tips of his bear fangs pushed at his gums.
My mate! You back the hell off! his bear roared in challenge to whoever it was out there, threatening her.
He bared his teeth — human teeth, if barely. Who was threatening this woman? Why?
A street-cleaning truck inched down the road, brushes whirring silently. Two men in suits strode out of the courthouse in the center of the park, jabbering into their cell phones. A group of people walked down the sidewalk beyond them, a blur of color and shape. Which one of them had alarmed her? Why?
The breeze was at his back, no help in teasing out a scent. He narrowed his eyes and studied one face after another, working his way across the park. Then his head whipped around just in time to see a man turn a corner and disappear from view. An average-size man in average-type clothes and brown hair. Shifter? Human? Damn it, he had nothing to go on there, and much as he wanted to chase the ass down and rattle a confession out of him, he wasn’t about to leave Anna alone.
He let out the loudest mental roar he’d ever tried, keeping it guarded — he hoped — from human ears while warning every shifter in a fi
ve-mile radius not to fuck with the woman behind him.
My woman! My mate!
“What did you see?” he demanded, turning back and taking her by both arms.
Her wide eyes darted between his face and the corner he’d seen the man disappear around.
“I’m not sure. Someone…”
He tilted his head to catch her words, then shook his head. He very nearly shook her, too, though he’d never, ever manhandle her. She was obviously faking a brave face — a forced smile he didn’t buy for one minute.
“I was probably just imagining it.” She shrugged, but the gesture was stiff.
Imagining what? he wanted to yell. What danger did she recognize? What enemy?
The breeze carried the distinct scent of alarmed bear from behind him. He turned to see Soren and Sarah hurry up.
What the hell happened? Soren barked into his mind. He took up position beside Todd, sheltering Anna and Sarah.
The two of them glared at the street corner long and hard. Almost hard enough to make the streetlamp uproot itself and flee, if a lamp were capable of such a thing. And for a moment, it felt like old times, when the two of them had worked together to keep their clan safe.
Todd took a deep breath, letting go of the last traces of animosity that had been clinging to his shoulders. Soren was family. Soren was clan. Nothing would drive them apart. Not even fate. They’d work together to wipe out any hint of trouble on their turf.
No, this wasn’t Montana. He was painfully aware of that. But this was Soren’s new turf, and Todd would defend it like it was his own.
Defend the turf, the clan, and most of all, the baby. He’d fight to the death if he had to.
He caught himself there and laughed bitterly. Death. That would be nice. Maybe he’d even get the real thing this time. He could leave this world forever in a worthy way.
But then something brushed his sleeve. He caught sight of Anna, and suddenly, he wasn’t in any rush to greet death any more. Maybe life was worth living, after all.
“Do you know each other?” Sarah asked, looking between the two of them. Her lips moved, and though he didn’t hear the words, she helped out by shooting them into his mind.
Anna stared into his eyes, and he stared back.
“I think so,” she said. That, he heard loud and clear.
Her lips trembled as she said it, and a new scent hit his nose. The scent of a woman interested in a man. Not quite aroused, but not quite at rest. Wondering. Wishing. Hoping, just a little bit.
His pulse skipped. Yeah, he had the same feeling.
I think I know her. I’m sure I do.
The problem was, his memory was pretty hazy on a lot of things since he’d nearly been beaten to death. Had he met her before or after that? Was he imagining it?
He shook himself into action. It was time to finish what they’d started a short time ago. He wrapped his hand around hers — gently enough not to crush, but tight enough to satisfy his bear’s urge to claim.
“I’m Todd.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said, looking at him as if she, too, was trying to place him.
He tried making sense of it all, but he couldn’t think straight. Not with his bear humming and sniffing her scent deeply.
Anna. Mine. Mate.
Whoa. He tried throwing on the brakes, but his bear was already skipping around in glee.
Mate. She’s my destined mate.
Chapter Four
“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” Sarah said, pulling Anna aside by the arm.
Anna wasn’t sorry. She just wanted to stay close to Todd. But Soren was leading him off in one direction, while Sarah steered her in another.
Did Todd feel it, too? The zing of energy that bounced between them when they’d touched? The painful stretch and popping sensation when he’d stepped away? The feeling that they had met before, and not just in passing?
He strode away, shoulder to massive shoulder with Soren, who could have been his brother, they were so alike. They had the build of lumberjacks and the confident step of predators who stood all the way up in the food chain. But while Soren definitely exuded king-of-this-domain vibes, Todd had a subtler, but equally powerful presence. She could see it in the way he moved, in the way he turned his head to scan the area, and in the way people scurried aside when he came near.
“Was something wrong?” Sarah asked.
“Wrong?” She’d never experienced anything that felt more right.
“Todd looked like he was about to kill someone, and you looked a little scared.”
“Oh, um…” She tried waving it off, but the feeling was still there, along with the alarms in the back of her mind. Having Todd play bodyguard had pushed away the panic, but the little niggle was still there.
A man had been watching them from across the street. A man she knew from Montana.
A man she would have been happy never to see again.
He’d arrived in Black River a week after the fire and immediately started asking questions. Weird, personal questions not even the cops had posed, like which of the locals had been friendly with whom and whether any of the victims left behind boyfriends or girlfriends he ought to know about. Why the hell would a perfect stranger inquire about things like that?
She shivered, remembering the first time the man had approached her. Without so much as a Sorry about the loved ones you lost, he’d launched into an interrogation.
“I hear your cousin Sarah was friendly with one of the Voss brothers. Is that true?”
He was a fifty-something farmer type, unremarkable except for the pale, thin scar that stretched an inch straight up from his upper lip on the right side. It gave him a built-in smile, though his eyes never matched that look. They were a strange, pale gray and very angry. Ominous, almost, like a storm coming over the horizon.
The way he posed the question suggested an agenda she didn’t even want to guess at, so she had shot back a curt answer before walking away. “Why does it matter? My cousin is dead.”
A lie, because she’d been sure Sarah was alive, but suddenly, it seemed better not to share that with this man.
“It matters,” he’d growled as she walked away. “Believe me, it matters.”
Creep didn’t begin to describe the guy.
She’d hoped he was just passing through Black River, but he rented a cabin and settled in. Asking questions and doing the weirdest things, like stopping by her cousin’s burned-out house and kicking through the ashes. He’d spent a lot of time out by the charred remains of the Voss lumber mill, too, doing who knows what. She’d done her best to avoid him. But then he’d stopped by the wildlife shelter, asking about the injured bear.
“Can I see him?” She remembered hearing his scratchy voice in the lobby one day when she was in the back, checking on the bear.
Thank God for Cynthia putting her foot down. “This isn’t a hospital and certainly not a circus. No visits.”
“That bear’s dangerous, you know,” the man went on as if he hadn’t heard. “Ought to be put down.”
When Anna heard that, she stood abruptly to block the view to the cage. And not a moment too soon, because the man’s piercing eyes had appeared at the glass window in the door separating the public part of the wildlife center from the back.
“Best thing for everyone would be to put a silver bullet in his head right now.”
A silver bullet?
His tone said he wasn’t kidding, and she’d just about marched out of the back room to give him a piece of her mind.
Lucky thing Cynthia had kept her cool. “Sadly, we don’t think that will be necessary. He’s likely to die any day now. Sorry, but we’re closing now. Let me show you to the door.”
That had been the only time he’d entered the wildlife center, but Anna had seen him parked outside a number of times. He’d left her a note, too.
If you hear anything more about your cousin or those Voss brothers, let me know. He’d left an out-of-state cell phone n
umber and signed it Emmett LeBlanc.
She’d taken a match to the note and vowed to be careful what she said about Sarah from then on. Maybe it wasn’t smart to insist Sarah was alive. Not if creeps like Emmett LeBlanc were interested.
The thing was, he seemed interested in everybody. Not just Sarah and the bear, but everybody in the town. He’d been asking about Jessica Macks, too — another woman who hadn’t been seen since the arson attacks. The waitress at the town diner said he’d claimed to be a crime novelist looking for inspiration, but Anna didn’t believe that one bit.
And anyway, that was months back and hundreds of miles away in Montana. This was Arizona. Sarah shot a glance across the street. She’d probably just been imagining things. That hadn’t been Emmett. It couldn’t be.
“Is everything okay?” Sarah asked, looking worried.
“Fine. Great.” She turned back to her cousin and hugged her again. “I’m so glad I found you.”
Todd and Soren had disappeared inside the saloon, and when Sarah led her in their direction, Anna’s nerves jumped up and down in glee. But at the last second, Sarah waved her through another door to the café on the right.
“Quarter Moon Café,” Anna murmured, reading the old-fashioned carved sign swinging over the door.
“Soren made it,” Sarah gushed in the same tone she’d always enthused about the man she loved.
“It’s nice you guys got back together,” Anna said. Her cousin had been gutted by the breakup, but apparently things had worked out after all. “I’m so happy for you.”
The sweet scent of berries and vanilla and fresh fruit hit her the second she stepped inside. The dark-haired woman behind the counter held Sarah’s baby high and made his arm wave.
“See? I told you Mommy was coming back,” she cooed.
Sarah beamed a mile wide and held her arms out. “Thanks, Jessica.”
“Anything for my little Teddy Bear,” the woman said, kissing him.