Missing (Shifters Unlimited: Clan Black Book 2)

by KH LeMoyne

Her alpha wolf finished one, then another of his attackers. The final beast clung harder to life, teeth digging into Deacon’s thigh, seemingly determine to at least take flesh if it couldn’t win. Deacon lowered on his front paws for his final attack, with his back turned to Stromer’s body.

  Lena’s stomach twisted and her throat closed as she watched one red eye flicker. Impossible. He was dead.

  She didn’t have time to check for Grizz or Breslin. Trim and Wharton had worked their way through half a dozen or more of their own challenges. They were still tying up loose ends and rogues who refused to give up.

  Deacon stood, shifting to human form and pushing free of the bodies littering the ground around him.

  “Now you die.”

  Raising her weapon, Lena shouted, “Don’t move.”

  All within a millisecond, Deacon’s gaze lifted to hers. Stromer vaulted into the air.

  She shot. Once.

  Grizz’s growl erupted beside her. She winced as her eardrums threatened to explode, but she kept her weapon raised as Stromer dropped to the ground again. She’d glimpsed her center-forehead strike hit its target, but waited as Deacon swung to confront his killer.

  Deacon bent and sniffed Stromer’s body, then crushed his windpipe. She didn’t blame him. She’d thought the feral dead with Deacon’s strike as well. She wasn’t as gullible now.

  Trim shifted to human and joined him at his side. With a snarl, she planted her boot in the dead man’s stomach. The corpse didn’t even twitch. Trim shrugged and turned back to scout through the rest of the wounded.

  Relief swept through Lena in a dizzying rush.

  Grizz shifted beside her. Standing over seven feet tall with curly brown hair and beard to match, he looked all too similar to his animal. Except for clothing. She was grateful for his jeans and shirt. The last thing she needed right now was naked shifters brushing around her. The mangled bodies of the dead were quite enough. “Clean kill,” he said.

  Lena nodded and lowered her weapon. “I suppose Deacon could have handled him.”

  She couldn’t shrug away the icy chill still crawling down her spine or the acrid film on her tongue. Deacon’s death had flashed before her eyes, and she couldn’t erase that image. He might be an alpha, but the aggressor had lain dormant, his rage palpable all the way across the field and his patience infinite.

  Another second, and Deacon could have taken him. However, some people were too vicious to risk waiting for an outcome.

  “My bet would be on Deacon, even with five at once and a sixth prepared to take the back of his neck. But why wait and find out?” Grizz’s gaze took her in from boots to head. “Lucky you’re a good shot.”

  Lucky? She scrutinized his expression to make sure he wasn’t laughing at her, but no muscle in his face twitched.

  Finally, finished checking with Trim, Deacon stalked her way and stopped before her. “That was your last shot.”

  Yep. Not much point in stating the obvious, though. She quietly slid her gun into her waistband.

  “You wasted it on me.” He leaned closer, his face an inch from hers, his scar stretched with his clenched jaw. It was a decent attempt to make her cower, but she wasn’t born yesterday. Not to mention that she was still reassuring herself that Scarred-and-handsome was still alive.

  “Grizz and Breslin weren’t about to let anybody get near us.” She pulled his jacket tighter around her and angled her face nose to nose with his. “You’re welcome.”

  His mouth twitched. Not a true win, but the sparkle in his eyes signaled his pleasure—and more. Any closer, and his lips could touch hers. Again. She shivered at the memory. He didn’t bother to move away but zipped the jacket and pulled his cell phone from around his neck.

  “Brindy. We’re ready for pickup.”

  Glancing around for the source of the mechanical rumble, Lena narrowed her eyes as a small craft rose above the far ledge. That was a mighty small helicopter for all of them. “Are we all taking a lift in that thing?”

  “Brindy’s giving us ten minutes. Then the storm will open on top of us, and she won’t be able to fly them out. We’ve got Shanae, Trevor, and—” With a low curse, Deacon scrutinized Matthew and then ran his gaze over his team. “It’ll have to be Trim. She’s lighter, is part of my team, and has paramedic training.”

  Aw, hell. Lena spun back and crouched beside Matthew, prepared to do major PR work because he’d likely explode seeing his wife and son whisked away. He was already staring at the helicopter hovering above them. “We’re not all going to fit.”

  “No.”

  “Okay. What are the rest of you going to do?” he asked with surreal calm.

  She started to open her mouth, even as she realized she didn’t know the answer.

  “We have an SUV waiting on the mountain service road,” Deacon said. “We’ll be on the grounds of the hospital within two hours.”

  “By we, you mean you, right?” Matthew pulled the blanket higher over Shanae and Trevor as the rain solidified to snow.

  “The person with the most shifter medical training and the least extra weight is the safest one to send in the copter. You want that for your family, yes?”

  Matthew was already shaking his head. “Then send Lena.”

  Deacon continued, louder, “My people don’t know her yet. Shifter emergency personnel are standing by for Shanae. Based on my injury report, they don’t expect her to be out of surgery or conscious for six to eight hours.” He moved right into Matthew’s space, blocking Lena’s access to her client. “A specialist is also coming in to test Trevor to ensure he’s not in any danger and make him comfortable.”

  “No. Absolutely not. My family is not leaving without me,” Matthew shouted and rose.

  Lena pushed at Deacon. He refused to move, so she gave him an elbow in the back with her good arm. At her grunt, he turned with a fierce expression. He stared at her injured shoulder and then moved aside. Matthew’s complexion was slowly going from red to purple.

  She grabbed Matthew’s shoulders. “We can’t waste time or risk either of them fighting about this. This is what you’ve worked for—their safety. This is the fastest way. I promise we’ll head right to them. No one is going to stop you from being with your family.” She turned and glared at Deacon. “Right, Alpha?”

  He raised an eyebrow but nodded. “You have my word.”

  “We’re also all going in that SUV together. No separating the humans from the shifters. No sleight of hand,” she added.

  Deacon crossed his arms. “Correct.”

  She spun back to Matthew, but the descent of a wire basket from the open helicopter door stopped her.

  Trim had pulled the basket to Shanae’s side, waiting on the exchange as she fastened a series of belts and latches about her own body. “This is going safely up into the air. I’ve done this plenty of times.”

  Her tone cut through the tension, but Matthew still hesitated.

  Trim ignored everyone else and squatted by the cage, unfastening the latches. She layered the blankets inside, place a tarp over the top, and grasped a smaller harness set. She paused and glanced first at Trevor and then Matthew. “I need to take him up first. So I can maneuver with the basket. Brindy’s ready for him. ”

  He said nothing, his mouth working, and his hands clenched as he stared between Trim, the basket, and his son.

  Trim exhaled loudly. “Look, I’m sorry about before, but—”

  “Give me his harness.” Matthew held out a hand. When Trim didn’t immediately comply, he jerked his open hand again. “I know how to secure him. You can check it after I’m certain he’s outfitted.”

  “Right.” Trim handed it over and waited.

  Trevor trembled, shaking his head and leaning against his father. Evidently, a lift inside the helicopter wasn’t anywhere on his fun list.

  Matthew muttered quietly to his son during the whole process as Trevor cried. Lena helped Matthew check each buckle three times. Then he grasped his son’s head. “I kno
w you’re scared. I just need you to be strong for a little bit longer. We don’t want Mommy to be alone on her way to the hospital. Do we?”

  Trevor stared at him. He even spared a glance for Lena.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can, but—” Matthew held firm as the boy’s chin trembled, but continued talking. “Mommy and I are so proud of you. Don’t forget that.”

  Swallowing hard, Trevor snuffled and then looked at Trim. She was still squatting with her forearms on her knees. “You don’t even have to look, kid. I’ll hook you to me, and we’ll be up there before you know it. There’s a front-row seat with a headset. Bet you’ve never been a copilot before.”

  Trevor scowled at her but shook his head. Then he jumped and clung to his father.

  “It’ll be okay. I promise, Trevor.” A gruff promise as Matthew blinked rapidly. They hugged for several long seconds. Valuable time that kept Trevor from seeing Deacon and Grizz lift Shanae’s broken body and gently place her on the blankets in the cage. It took another minute to strap her securely inside the frame. Then they covered and sealed the frame’s top and latched on the tarp.

  The boy startled as he glanced over. His father whispered about the logistics of covering Shanae to keep her warm. That she could breathe. That she knew her boy was there. That having her son with her would make her feel so much better.

  Trevor didn’t look convinced, but he accepted the transfer to Trim’s arms and allowed his father and Deacon to strap the two of them together. Based on his father’s suggestion, he buried his head deep against Trim’s chest. Then the cable rose toward the hovering helicopter.

  Lena watched until Trim grasped the edge of the opening and slid inside with the boy. Then Lena crouched beside Matthew. Shanae must have regained consciousness briefly, because she’d wrestled aside the blanket that had covered her face. With her arms strapped, she couldn’t move or touch, but Matthew slid a hand through the metal frame to stroke her cheek and calmed her. Then she passed out again.

  Lena grasped Matthew’s shoulders and pulled him back as Trim reappeared and strapped herself to the basket. Foot by slow foot, the basket lifted into the air.

  Blinking back the snow blinding her vision, Lena tried to watch. It was only when the helicopter shifted and melded with the snow that she turned back.

  Matthew stood beside her, still watching.

  Lena pulled on his jacket. “We need to get going. Travel can take longer in this weather.”

  “How will we know?” he asked, resisting her tug.

  Deacon raised his phone as he picked up Lena’s backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “They’ll call. The minute they land, when she’s in surgery, after she’s out, and when we get the all clear that she’s awake. You’ll be briefed every step of the way.”

  Deacon walked away, evidently expecting them to follow.

  “It’s going to be all right,” Lena said.

  “You don’t know that,” Matthew whispered.

  “You’ve trusted me this far, right?”

  He gave her a weak smile and sucked in a breath. “We’ve made it this far.”

  “And we’ll finish just fine.”

  Matthew conceded to her tug, stumbled beside her, and then halted. “Promise you won’t leave until everything is resolved.” He pressed his lips together, his hands absently patting his arms for warmth. “I know it sounds lame. You didn’t sign up for babysitting duty. But they’re all—I’m not—I could really use someone on my side. I know you have something with Deacon, but I trust that you wouldn’t walk away and let them keep my family.”

  No, she definitely hadn’t signed up for any of this.

  “I just need time to speak with my wife and get some answers.”

  Fair. Frankly, Lena had a few questions she wanted answers to as well. “Until you two get a chance to talk or whatever. I can do that.”

  They both started down the path that was quickly disappearing into uniform white. Luckily, Deacon had stopped and waited for them to catch up.

  “The seats are heated in the vehicle. Grizz stocked thermoses and food. You can refortify and rest.”

  Not answering, Matthew continued along the trail. Snow fell around them but not on them, much like the light rain they’d endured during the fight. Lena watched Matthew and let him get a bit ahead before she turned to Deacon. “I believe you’ll keep your word, but I need to know that your people—the other shifters will also.”

  “Don’t be concerned. Matthew isn’t fragile. He can handle a little pushback. It’s important he realizes he can.” He angled his head toward her. “I wouldn’t set the man up for failure with his family. His choices, how this plays out, are mostly up to him—and Shanae.”

  “Based on what?”

  “Well, ultimately, what she chooses will dictate his options.”

  The unknown commodity—a wife who hadn’t turned to her husband as the first option to handle trouble. Though, in all fairness, Shanae seemed to be embroiled in an atypical heap of trouble. However, without the burden of protecting huge shifter secrets, Lena might be able to resolve the rest.

  Lena couldn’t really argue with Deacon. There wasn’t time anyway. Ahead of them, a large vehicle blocked the access road. How it had even managed the smaller road, she wasn’t sure, but the sight of it gave her a little more strength. The back door popped open, and Breslin stepped aside to wave Lena to the middle of the backseat.

  Her first thought was to shrink as tight into herself as she could. Deacon had entered on the other side, and she was now the filling in a shifter sandwich. He wasn’t in a mood to be argued with and placed an arm over her shoulder, pulling her close until she was warm and dry against him.

  Those shifter powers were handy. Almost a good enough feeling that she considered forgoing the wax-wrapped package Breslin forced into her hands and the hot, steaming coffee that followed.

  However, Matthew seemed to have no qualms about refusing.

  She struggled up with a sigh and reached into the front passenger seat, then squeezed his shoulder. “Even if food’s the last thing you want, try. You’ll need energy for when you get there.”

  He bowed his head, resigned, and unwrapped the thick slab of bread stuffed with meats and cheese. She relaxed and sat back. If she’d expected to win her own space back after that exercise, Deacon had other ideas and tucked her against him again. She closed her eyes. Some battles weren’t worth it, and some things just weren’t battles.

  Dazed and tired, she drowsed, her eyes open and taking in the sprawling mountains before them. Little of what Lena could see through the front windshield looked familiar.

  Then Grizz turned the wheel.

  She tensed, too shocked to even scream as the truck headed toward an abyss. Holding her breath, she waited for the familiar screech, for the spin and dive of the vehicle, for the heart-stopping tug of the belt across her body.

  Her breath locked in her chest, but nothing happened.

  One minute, they’d been headed for a canyon. The next second, they were driving along a surprisingly well-maintained country road.

  “What the fuck.” Matthew still clutched the dashboard, breathing hard.

  That was sort of what she thought but was glad Matthew had done the swearing instead of her. Another abnormal experience. She sidled a glance up at Deacon. “Another shifter thing?”

  “Sacred land—” He waved backward as if disappearing roads and mountains happened every day. “The shield hides our territory from all but the clan.”

  Grizz’s quick glance in the rearview mirror implied that wasn’t quite the truth.

  “The shield or its alpha,” she muttered.

  “They are one and the same,” Deacon said and clasped her hand. “Just relax. We’ll be there soon.”

  Comfort and the strong urge to give in and let someone else take the watch, hold the responsibility, pushed hard. In a show of stubbornness, she fought back, forcing her head away from the comfortable spot on Deacon’s shoulder. />
  A futile act, given the internal tug she felt from Deacon, a promise that she could sink into him and block out the world. The way she craved him unsettled her. But no one deserved the risk that came with her friendship, much less a relationship. She’d built a shield with her own sweat and tears to preserve his kind. Yet…she’d never craved anything the way she did Deacon. Surely, her instincts wouldn’t betray her this time.

  “I could send you to sleep,” he whispered.

  “You won’t.”

  “It would be for your own good.”

  “It’s not what I want.”

  “That is a problem.” He tugged her closer under his arm anyway. “Rest. We’ll be there soon.”

  Despite the insistent command beneath his request, she complied. Watching the shadows claim the landscape, she memorized every twist and turn toward the way back home.

  Home was where she belonged. Not in a fairy tale of Hansel and Gretel meets the big sexy wolf. Her determination to believe in a higher purpose to her life, a mystical justification for all the loved ones she’d lost, shouldn’t keep her tied to this fiction.

  She was only Lena Juarez. Solitary loner and no one’s superhero.

  13

  The ride through town offered no unusual sights, but Deacon’s heat radiated beside her and her skin tightened with expectation anyway. She kept reminding herself the mission was finished. At least her charges were safe in the hospital, even if there were unanswered questions.

  Matthew needed closure and she had a few questions, but for now, her biggest problems were relieving her oversensitive skin and dissipating a traitorous swell of desire.

  Deacon’s touch oddly helped, easing the sensitivity, though she avoided even a side-glance his way. Those eyes, that sensual mouth—yes, she felt out of control. A train wreck requiring a solution, even if it only temporarily sated her needs. She doubted taking the edge off would be enough, for she could already imagine limitless scenarios that involved the man beside her and fewer clothes—none of them the least bit civilized.

  She concentrated on the neatly paved roads and small town square filled with restaurants, shops, and other businesses. Black Haven could have been any small town for hundreds of miles. Individual homes dotted the landscape beyond the main street.