by Zoe Chant
Mates, she thought, still a little resentful at the thought that nature might have been forcing them together, ignoring all of her own feelings in the matter.
Maybe it hadn’t really been trust. Maybe it had just been pheromones or something, some sort of primitive animal drive...
I’ve got you, Darrell’s voice whispered in her head once more, and warmth rushed through all of her limbs.
There was nothing animalistic about him. The memory filled her heart with a simple happiness she’d never known before. It was the sort of completeness she’d longed for as a child, when she’d sometimes dared to dream of the family that had abandoned her.
With him, she was whole. And the sex had been good too, there was no denying that—but that wasn’t what had made her fall in love. He was incredibly hot—but she loved him for the way he’d set her at ease until she’d dared to take that step into the unknown and shift into her cat.
That’s all me. The trust and the love—that’s all mine. I could leave now if I want—Glory is right. I know I could. But I don’t want to...
Silly human, her cat purred with affection. Who says you have to?
Sorry, Carrie thought with relief. I’m still new to this. I don’t know what part of me is me, and what’s you.
Her cat stretched and yawned, and then began to meticulously groom her fur. All the silly anxiety is human. It’s as easy as that.
Surprised, Carrie bit back a snort of laughter, and then finally opened her eyes again.
“And?” Glory asked curiously.
“I feel better now.” Carrie gave Glory a smile of relief. “You’re right. The feelings are mine. And I could say no to them if I wanted. I’m not helpless. Sorry, I’m still figuring out this entire business—it’s not easy to talk to yourself when your entire life, you’ve heard people say that’s a sign of insanity.”
Glory leaned back and laughed. “You’ve come to the right town to learn.”
“Thanks,” Carrie said quietly, suddenly filled with gratitude. “Thanks for taking me out for coffee—and just talking me through this. I really appreciate it. It’s hard when—” She shrugged uncomfortably. “I suppose most shifters learn all these things in childhood. It’s a bit late to learn that everything you knew about yourself is wrong.”
“Not wrong,” Glory said affectionately. “Everything about you is right. And people learn new things about themselves all the time. You just got everything in one big swoop. Probably means you’ve got quiet, peaceful times ahead now.”
A smile tugged at Carrie’s lips. “In this town? I’m not so sure.”
“You’re staying then?”
Carrie was quiet for a moment. “I need to talk to Darrell first.” They really needed to talk now, with no more secrets between them. “But—I’d like to give this a chance. Who knows, it might not work out. There’s so many shifter things I don’t know. But I want to try. And that’s all my own decision, and if I fail, that’ll be all me, too.”
“Fierce and independent as a bear,” Glory said in approval. “You’ll fit right in. And if your big, growly alpha bear gets on your nerves, come back to me. I’ve known him since childhood, like I said.” She winked. “I’ve got all the embarrassing stories.”
Carrie laughed, and then they finished what was left of their selection of cupcakes.
“Wait here a moment,” Glory said when they were done. “I’ll grab a few more, and we can go by the sheriff’s office. Knowing Darrell, that’s where he’s gone. It doesn’t sit well with him that there was a werewolf in our territory.”
Carrie nodded, reaching into her purse for the tiny mirror she kept in it. She’d been so distraught earlier that she hadn’t bothered with makeup—now, at the prospect of meeting up with Darrell again, she gave her image a critical look.
At least I don’t look as if I’ve cried. Which I haven’t! I just had... a sort of existential crisis, or something.
She stuck her tongue out at herself.
And I don’t look too bad for that. No red eyes, at least.
With a sigh, she put the mirror away again.
It was then that she saw him.
There, coming around the side of the bakery, hidden in the shadows, a man was standing. He was staring at her from strangely intense eyes. He was in his fifties, with short hair that had gone gray, wearing khakis and a black shirt.
When he took a step forward, Carrie froze. She was feeling dizzy. She’d never seen the man before, but something inside her recognized him. Something about him was familiar.
What’s that scent? Like danger...
When he stepped out of the shadows, the light hit his eyes. They were a strange, pale gold, and recognition hit Carrie with an abrupt wave of dread.
The wolf.
Those were the golden eyes of a wolf shifter. The werewolf had found her at last.
Carrie stood so abruptly that she upset the table.
With a loud clatter, the tray that had held their plates and coffee cups fell to the floor. The porcelain burst on the tiles, splinters skidding into every direction.
“Please. Don’t be afraid,” the werewolf said.
His voice was husky—and those strange, golden eyes looked uncertain. Nevertheless, he took a step towards her, reaching out with his hand.
A second later, Glory had returned, her eyes ablaze with fury as she came to a stop right between Carrie and the werewolf.
“Leave,” Glory demanded, her voice full of anger. “We won’t have any of your kind causing trouble in Linden Creek. The sheriff is already on your trail. And if you take one further step towards her, I don’t care what the sheriff says. He won’t need a holding cell after my bear is through with you.”
“This doesn’t concern you,” the werewolf snapped. “Get out of my way. I’m here for her.”
He took another step forward, his eyes on Carrie instead of Glory. Something about him frightened Carrie.
Wolf, her cat hissed inside her head.
Carrie could smell it now: the scent of fur and forest, creating images of claws and fangs and blood in her mind.
She shivered, but still she held her ground. She wasn’t lost in the wilderness now. And as a cat, she felt right at home in the town. If he came for her, she could shift and be up on the roof in an instant. There were lots of ways for a cat to escape where the heavy, large body of a wolf couldn’t follow.
“You tried to kill her,” Glory said, bristling with anger.
The werewolf made a dismissive gesture. “That’s where you’re wrong.” He took another step towards her.
Instinctively, Carrie inched backwards, trying to remember where the door was without turning her head.
If she made it inside, she could lock the door and call for help. There were enough shifters in this town that she’d have reinforcements for Glory within minutes.
Then she nearly tripped over the tray that was still on the ground. It skidded away with a loud clatter. At the sound, the stranger stopped stalling and came forward with an impatient sound.
At the same time, Glory shifted. Even with the terror that had gripped her, Carrie couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly Glory transformed. It took less than a heartbeat for her to shift.
Where before, a curvy, broad-shouldered woman had stood, now a muscle-bound bear raised her head, showing her teeth as she rumbled a deep, final warning.
“Fuck,” the werewolf hissed. “If you run now, they’ll get you. I’m here to—”
The words were cut off when Glory came at him.
Carrie had never seen an angry bear before. She’d been terrified when she’d first seen Darrell’s bear up close—but Darrell had tried not to scare her.
Glory, on the other hand, was all muscle and fangs right now as she hurled herself at the man.
At the last moment, he quickly rolled out of the way. Glory just barely missed him as she batted at him with a paw.
She hadn’t used her claws, Carrie realized as she stared with wide, shoc
ked eyes—but even so she was clearly trying to knock her opponent out.
There was a gasp behind Carrie, startling her. When she turned around, half expecting another attack, she found herself faced with Eve, the sheriff’s wife and owner of the bakery.
“It’s the werewolf,” Carrie said hastily while behind her, Glory made another low, threatening rumble. “Can you call—”
Unceremoniously, Eve took hold of her arm and yanked her inside. A second later, the door was firmly shut and locked.
It was a glass door. Carrie’s heart continued to pound in her chest as she found herself staring out at where the bear and the man were still facing off.
Could a glass door hold a werewolf?
Carrie’s eyes fell onto the small tables and chairs that stood on the patio outside. No, glass wouldn’t save her—not if the man had time to grab one of those wrought iron chairs.
Again Glory lunged at the man. He stumbled backwards.
Carrie’s heart continued to thud. He wouldn’t have time to grab a chair and bash in the door, not with Glory out there.
“Quick, he’s here at the bakery,” Eve hastily said into her phone. “The werewolf! Yes, she’s safe. She’s inside with me. Glory is keeping him busy outside—”
A moment later, Eve reached out to touch Carrie’s arm. “It’s all right. Darrell will be here in a minute. And that shifter won’t get past Glory. You’re safe here.”
Dizzy, Carrie continued to stare at the man. He was bleeding a little—but not from Glory’s claws and fangs. Those had to be scratches from when he’d been forced to roll across the gravel to escape her.
He was fast—he had the reflexes of a shifter, even in his human form. And despite his age, his arms were corded with muscle.
Even so, it was clear that he had no chance against Glory. Not if he didn’t shift.
Why doesn’t he shift, Carrie thought dimly. If he wants to kill me he could’ve attacked earlier, when she was inside. A wolf’s fangs would have dealt with me in seconds...
Again the werewolf tried to roll out of the way when Glory lunged at him. But this time, his reflexes didn’t save him. A bat of her powerful paw sent him skidding across the patio—right towards where Carrie was watching from behind the glass door.
Her breath caught in her throat when he wearily pushed himself up by his arms. One of his hands reached into his pocket, pulling something out.
A gun? What if he has a gun?
Her heart skipped a beat. Time seemed to stop when their eyes met. Glory came racing towards him, but it was too late—he was already raising his hand, pointing it straight at her.
Then he spoke.
“Carrie. You’re my daughter,” he said, the words soft and distant through the glass that separated them.
Glory crashed into him, just when Carrie realized that he wasn’t holding a gun in his hand.
It wasn’t a knife either, or some other weapon. It was a faded, wrinkled photo...
He went down instantly when the full weight of the bear hit him.
Chapter Ten: Darrell
Darrell had started running as soon as he’d received the call. He’d been waiting in the sheriff’s office. He’d wanted to give Carrie space, but was too uneasy to stay away, in case there’d be news.
He’d made the right call. The police station was only a few blocks from the cozy little bakery, and Darrell made it there in record time.
He knew Glory’s worth as a fighter. She could hold herself easily against a werewolf—even against three. Still, even though the fragile, growing mate bond told him that Carrie was unharmed, he ran faster than he’d ever run before—and he made it just in time to see Glory growl aggressively right into the face of a man helpless beneath the body of her bear.
Immediately, all of Darrell’s protective instincts kicked in.
The man was obviously used to fighting. He had the muscular body of a soldier, and the good sense to stay motionless, with Glory’s jaw all but closed around his throat.
He wasn’t a danger right now—not even if he shifted.
Why hasn’t he shifted?
Then something tugged on his heart—a distinct, almost physical sensation that he recognized instantly, even though it was still so new to him.
Carrie.
The pull made him raise his eyes, immediately meeting her own. She was safely inside, just as Eve had promised, watching the proceedings from behind the glass door that led out into the bakery’s garden.
She was waving at him frantically, and then, clearly against Eve’s advice, hastily opened the door again to stumble out onto the patio.
An instinctive little growl escaped Darrell when the werewolf twitched.
“Don’t! Wait!” Carrie gasped.
Her eyes were wide. She was very pale, and through the bond, Darrell could now feel the full force of her emotions hit him. She was distressed—he’d thought it was because of the werewolf, but there was something more.
“Don’t hurt him! I want to hear what he has to say!”
“Are you sure?” Darrell asked, giving the man on the ground a look of warning. “We know why he’s here. He’s been hunting you in the forest. He probably tried to kill you with the accident. He’s been following you out here to—”
Carrie shook her head. “No. He said—he said that he’s my father.”
She was trembling a little. Darrell saw her shake, even as the full impact of her words hit him.
“Are you sure?” he asked again, stepping to her side to wrap his arm around her. “It might be a trick.”
“He could have killed me,” she said, shrugging helplessly. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything. But I want—I want to hear what he’s got to say.”
Again Darrell growled, then gave Glory a sharp nod.
“Let him up,” he said.
With a disappointed grumble of her own, Glory took a step back, taking her large paw from the werewolf’s chest.
“He had a picture,” Carrie murmured. “I couldn’t see it clearly, but he was trying to show it to me...”
“Well?” Darrell snapped at the stranger. “Get up. Explain yourself. And don’t try any tricks. It’s two bears against one wolf.”
“Two bears and a cat,” Carrie corrected him, already sounding a little more like herself. “And I want answers now. You’ve been following me since the accident. Why? And who are you?”
“Name’s Tom. Tom Grayfur among wolves.” With a painful cough, the man slowly got to his feet. “And I’m your father. You’re right—someone sent me after you to kill you.”
Darrell growled in open anger as the bear within him reared up with a fierce, protective rage as hot as the sun.
Unafraid, the werewolf stared at him with golden eyes.
“Easy there, mate. I didn’t do it, did I? I looked into her as I prepared for the job—now I don’t like to do that sort of work, but you make a mistake in your youth, you end up with bad folks, and a few years down the road you realize you can’t get out anymore.”
Darrell scoffed. “Spare me your sad tales,” he said.
He knew that sort of life well enough—he’d grown up in just that sort of bad company, after all. And he’d done everything he could to get himself and the rest of his clan out of it.
“Knew a woman in my youth,” the man said, coughing again. “Cat shifter. My mate. Loved her more than you can imagine. That’s why I had to leave her, you see. The folks I was running with—they’d have hurt her. Killed her. Only way to keep her safe was to leave her, make sure that no one ever knew she was my mate.”
Carrie swallowed. “A cat shifter?”
The werewolf looked at her from his golden eyes. “Pretty like you,” he said heavily. “Turned into one of those fancy cats—all soft, silky long fur. Always knew she was too good for me.”
“And then?” Darrell demanded.
“As soon as I saw your picture, I knew. You look just like her. I’ve got some connections. Took some bribes, but I even
tually found someone who got access to what files they had on you. You’re her kid. Hers—and mine. I never knew she was pregnant, you see.” The man raised a hand to his face, his voice rough as he continued. “Never would have left if I’d known... I only wanted to protect her, but she died anyway, and you—you were all alone.”
“What happened to my mom?” Carrie asked shakily. “What—did someone kill her?”
Tom shook his head. “An accident. She was crossing the street. A car was going too fast. She didn’t have any family—and no shifter friends. So word never got back to me.”
“And I was fostered with human families,” Carrie completed softly.
Darrell gave Glory a small nod. The bear backed away a little further, and Darrell took hold of Carrie’s hand. Her skin was cold—but after a moment, her fingers tightened gratefully around his.
“I’m sorry,” Tom said heavily. “There’s nothing I can do to undo it. If I hadn’t messed up back then—if I’d never fallen in with that wolf pack when I was young and stupid—maybe I would’ve been with her that day, and she’d never have crossed that road. And you’d have grown up with us, always aware of who you are. I’m really sorry, Carrie.”
Carrie looked at him, still silent and clearly shocked. Darrell was watching Tom as well, but he couldn’t find any sign of a lie in the eyes of the wolf shifter.
Darrell had never trusted werewolves—but this one seemed to speak the truth. Furthermore, even though their animals were so different, now that Darrell knew what to look for, he thought he could make out the resemblance. Something about the shape of her eyes and cheekbones recalled the wolf shifter’s face—just that Carrie was all softness where the man had the hard, worn face of a soldier.
Or a criminal, Darrell thought, suddenly recalling the other news the man had offered.
“Who wants to kill Carrie?” Darrell demanded, his voice hard as his bear roared inside him once more. “I want to know all the details. Are there more of you out there?”
“I’m alone,” Tom said. “Always worked best on my own. At least that’s what I thought. As soon as I found out it was her, I knew I had to warn her instead. I played along, pretending I was on the job—but someone else must have suspected. Or maybe they just wanted to make sure she ends up dead, as quickly as possible. I’ve no idea who rammed her car, but I bet they were paid by the same guy who hired me.”