by Bliss Devlin
His sense of smell, now many times sharper than when he had been in man-shape, caught the hated scent of wolf shifters and a whiff of fresh blood on the gentle summer breeze.
And not just any blood…the blood of a young woman.
A hiker, maybe?
And being attacked by wolf shifters far from their home territory?
Something was very wrong.
Rafe headed towards the source of the sounds and the scent of blood, moving quickly along the Forest Service road that wound through the trees and up the side of the mountain in a series of switchbacks.
Despite his size and bulk in bear-shape, he moved silently on huge paws. Not wanting to alert the participants in whatever was happening up ahead, he was careful to stay downwind as he moved stealthily forward to assess the situation
The sounds of a struggle increased as he drew nearer. His heart sank as he finally recognized the scent of one of the wolf shifters…Bill Torberg, of Whitepine Security Services' Wolf Team.
Rafe hadn't seen the other man since their days of working together for WSS.
Had WSS finally found Bear Team's survivors? Hal Sigurdsson, Rafe's former commanding officer, had always predicted that WSS would catch up with the runaway bear shifters someday.
Rafe cautiously rounded a curve in the road and peered carefully around the thick trunk of a Western Redcedar, where he saw two Beast Warriors in their monstrous half-man shapes, naked and two-legged with fur, fangs, and claws.
Shit! What the hell were Erik Redclaw's Wolf Team shifters doing here?
Had Erik finally decided to quit Whitepine Security Services and follow Hal into exile?
The two wolf shifters were out in the middle of the road, circling a short, curvy black-haired woman, lunging and feinting, clearly playing with their prey.
Rafe suppressed a growl at the sight of a terrified woman under attack by two wolf shifter trespassers in bear territory.
She was dressed in dirty jeans and a knitted sweater, snagged and dotted with brown pine needles and leaves, far too warm for this fine summer day. Rafe could smell her terror and rage as she tried to fight them off with a survival knife.
Her courage impressed Rafe, and he knew he had to help her.
The warriors made deep barking laughs each time she tried to slash or stab them and missed. They were faster and stronger than she was and were clearly enjoying their game.
When one of the warriors moved in and locked her arms behind her back, she kicked sharply backwards, catching him in the knee.
The wolf shifter grunted and staggered a bit, then cursed in a hoarse inhuman voice that emerged from a fanged muzzle set in a grotesque, half-human face.
Undeterred, the woman bit down on the other warrior's clawed hand when he reached for her face. But her struggles only seemed to amuse them further…and to excite them.
Rescue her first and ask questions later, Rafe decided.
His bear liked that plan—it had been too long since either of them had been in a good fight.
And the bear liked the way the woman smelled, sweet and fresh with a touch of herbs under the taint of fear and anger.
The two wolf shifters were so focused on tormenting their struggling victim that they never saw Rafe coming.
He roared and charged them at full speed.
Before either of the wolf shifters could react, Rafe hit the one nearest to him—Torberg, by his scent—with one huge, furry shoulder, sending the Beast Warrior flying across the clearing.
The wolf shifter crashed against the thick trunk of a tree and lay stunned at its base.
The other wolf shifter released his hold on the woman's arms. Snarling, he turned to attack Rafe. He died instantly when Rafe swung his massive paw and raked his throat with his long, curving claws.
The second Beast Warrior crumpled, his lifeblood watering the thirsty earth as he sprawled on the ground. His scent, too, was familiar to Rafe, but he couldn't place it at the moment.
The woman gasped at the bear's sudden appearance and scrambled a few steps backwards from Rafe. Then she turned, casting a terrified glance over her shoulder, and ran for the trees.
Rafe let her go. They were miles from the nearest town, and he had her scent. Once he was done with the wolf shifters, he could track her down at his leisure and ask his questions.
In the meanwhile, he had one more Beast Warrior to deal with.
On cue, Torberg snarled, scrambling to his feet from where Rafe had tossed him. He shifted from half-man to full wolf. His pelt was pure black, and his golden eyes blazed with fury.
You should have run too, Rafe thought, opening his jaws to roar at the black wolf.
A pack of wolf shifters might have caused Rafe some difficulties. But not a lone wolf, and they both knew it.
Team Wolf members were used as hunters or scouts by WSS, whereas Bear Team had been used for heavy infantry. Not many creatures could withstand hand-to-hand combat with a fully grown male grizzly.
But the black wolf had a Beast Warrior's spirit and determination. Outclassed or not, he growled and charged Rafe, fangs bared.
He was lean and agile and managed to dodge Rafe's first blow. But not his second.
The black wolf hit the ground and rolled, leaving behind blood. Regaining his feet, he charged and feinted, darting in to try to slash Rafe with his fangs. A useless tactic, considering how thick Rafe's pelt was.
A few minutes of circling combat followed during which Rafe failed to inflict any serious injuries on the agile Torberg as he darted and dodged. Torberg also failed to draw blood despite repeated attacks.
Then, growing either overconfident or desperate, the black wolf leapt for Rafe's throat.
Rafe reared up to his full height of eight feet and caught the black wolf's head with a swing of his paw.
Torberg's neck broke with a loud crack, and his limp body tumbled to earth.
Rafe stared down at his fallen opponents.
Damn it. What are they doing all the way out here, in the middle of nowhere, and why were they attacking that woman?
He sorted through his memory of scents before recognizing the other wolf shifter as Kevin Powell, another member of Team Wolf from Rafe's WSS days.
Rafe had liked Powell and Torberg when they'd worked together, and he wished now that their final acts had not involved terrorizing an unarmed woman.
But as Rafe knew all too well, Colonel Perry often forced his Beast Warriors to commit atrocities.
He gave a heavy, huffing sigh, then swung his head around, trying to catch the scent of the woman.
Got her! As before, he noticed that the sweet herbal scent of the woman was tainted by blood. Had she been injured in her struggle to escape the two wolf shifters?
Rafe set off at a ground-eating trot, following her trail. He was confident that he would be able to catch up with her shortly. No ordinary human could outrun a bear.
He would catch up with her sooner rather than later, and then he would get answers to some of the questions troubling him.
It wasn't long before he could hear her moving somewhere ahead of him. She was exhausted—he could hear her uneven footfalls and ragged gasps as she labored to breathe.
She could hear him, too, because he was making no effort to move silently now. She moved more swiftly, and then he heard her wheeze with fresh effort.
Rafe saw a stand of giant cottonwood trees up ahead and smelled fresh water and heard it flowing over rocks.
The woman had vanished. But her duffel bag, sneakers, and dusty socks lay on the bank of a wide stream, which was dangerously swollen and turbulent with snowmelt.
For a heart-stopping moment, Rafe thought she might have attempted to cross the raging waters, which roared and foamed over tumbled granite boulders.
From experience, he knew that the water would be cold enough to steal your breath and numb your limbs in a matter of moments.
Rafe sniffed around and caught her scent from an unexpected angle.
He s
at on his haunches and looked up and around.
His quarry was sitting on a thick cottonwood branch about twenty feet up.
He met a pair of dark blue eyes set in a pale, heart-shaped face, framed by tumbling locks of shining black hair.
A shock of…something…jolted through him.
Not recognition, for he was certain that he'd never seen her before, but something akin to recognition. Déjà vu, perhaps?
She was beautiful. Even dirty and terrified, she was a voluptuous earth goddess, warm and expressive.
And right now, she looked worried, frightened, and utterly weary.
Rafe decided that his best course of action would be to convince her to come down on her own.
With an effort of will, he shifted back to man-shape, uncomfortably aware of his nakedness. He heard her gasp.
"Miss, you do know that bears can climb trees?" he asked when the shift had completed, keeping his tone conversational as he rose to his feet.
"You're lying," she retorted, but he thought she looked uncertain. "And…you're a human being now. I'll—I'll kick you in the face if you try to come up after me."
Her voice was low and pleasant, with an Irish lilt.
Funny how she seemed to take his shape-shifting in stride. Either she's in shock or she already knows about shifters, he thought.
And if she knew about shifters, he wondered how she knew.
Most shifters guarded their secrets closely. The careless ones usually ended up dead—or recruited by private military organizations such as WSS, who were always on the lookout for "special" recruits.
"Then we're at an impasse." Rafe sighed loudly. "You know, I can always shift back. Bears are known to be excellent climbers."
"If that's so, why didn't you just climb up here to drag me down?" she challenged.
"Because bears are also known to be extremely lazy." Rafe shook his head, miming sadness. "I don't want to exert myself if there's a chance I can convince you to climb down on your own."
Her expression, which had been on the verge of softening when he joked about being lazy, froze.
"I'll never give myself to Whitepine Security Service. I'd rather die first."
"I believe you," Rafe said seriously. "Would you believe me if I told you that I'm no friend to WSS?"
She peered down at him with a suspicious expression.
"Where am I?" asked the woman. "Have I reached Idaho yet?"
"Not quite," Rafe answered. "You're in the middle of the Bitterroot National Forest in Montana."
"I'm still in Montana?" Her beautiful blue eyes widened in dismay. "But I've been walking for days now!"
"It's a big state," said Rafe. Absurdly, he saw her obvious distress at the news and wanted to comfort her. He added, "But we're not too far from the Idaho state line. And my truck is parked just a few miles down the road."
"Good!" The joy that lit her face gave her a warm, radiant beauty.
Rafe felt his pulse jump at the sight.
Then her expression sobered. "And what about the two wolf shifters who pursued me here?"
So she did know about shifters! Very interesting.
"Dead," Rafe said simply. He scrutinized her. "Who are you? And why were they chasing you?"
She hesitated, and he could see her debating whether to answer him.
"My name is Shannon," she said, finally.
Rafe waited for more, but it seemed she was done speaking. "Just Shannon? No last name?"
She shook her head. "I'd…rather not say."
So she was a fugitive of some kind.
"What are you doing here, Shannon? Do you work for Whitepine Security Services?"
He saw her flinch at the name, just before she shook her head. "No! They abducted me from my home…" She hesitated. "Please don't tell them you found me!"
Rafe couldn't resist the urge to try to help this woman, who was terrified and injured and apparently a foreigner.
"I wouldn't piss on any of them if they were on fire," he said truthfully.
"So you don't work for them?" she asked instantly. "But you're…a bear. A shifter." She frowned down at him, confused.
"WSS doesn't own the bears, not any longer," Rafe said harshly. He tried to soften his tone. "Shannon, please come down from there. My name is Rafe Magnusson, and like I said, I have a truck. I could give you a lift to the nearest town…or take you to the nearest sheriff's station, if you want to report that you've been kidnapped."
She stared down at him with an assessing look, clearly tempted but wondering if she could trust him.
He added, "I swear that I don't work for Whitepine Security Services, not any more. In fact, they're looking for me, too. I swear I just want to help you."
She looked into his eyes, searchingly, and he felt the oddest tickle across the surface of his mind, like the soft brush of fingers against his soul.
After another long moment, she apparently decided the big naked man standing below her looked trustworthy. She began to inch cautiously forward on the branch.
Rafe held his breath as she made her slow way down to the ground.
When she had safely reached solid earth, he saw that she came up to his shoulder. She looked like a cuddlesome armful, all soft curves and sweetly scented woman.
Fighting the urge to cover himself with his hands, Rafe held out her shoes and socks.
"You'll need to put these back on. It's a bit of a walk back to my pickup truck, and then it's a couple of hours' drive back to the ranch and my house." He paused. "Unless you want me to take you to the nearest sheriff's station?"
After a quick assessing glance that swept him from head to foot, she kept her gaze firmly fixed on his face while she thought it over.
"No," she said at last. "I know Whitepine Security Services is a very wealthy and very influential organization. My Granda warned me about them and warned me that they'd likely have the authorities on their side. I don't think anyone would believe me if I told them what they did to me." She paused, and in a softer voice, continued, "And I don't have a passport or papers. That wouldn't look good, now, would it? Me being an illegal immigrant, and all?"
Rafe nodded. "You've got a point. Are you hurt? Do you think you'll be able to walk down to where I'm parked?"
She shook her head, but he looked her over carefully, nonetheless. Blood stained the leg of her jeans and one sleeve of her sweater. He recognized them as bite wounds in the shape of a wolf's jaws.
"I'm all right. And I can walk," she said, a determined look on her face. She hesitated, then asked, "Would you happen to know how I could get to Elysia, then?"
That surprised him. "My ranch is located just outside Elysia," he told her and saw relief flood her features. "Why? Do you know someone there?"
"I don't," she answered. "But my Granda, he told me that if WSS ever gave me trouble, I should find someone named Hal Sigurdsson. Apparently, Hal owes him a debt of honor, or some such."
"Hal?" Rafe asked, startled. "Hell, yeah, I know him."
"Oh, thank God," she said fervently. "Can you take me to him, please?"
"I can do better than that," Rafe said, intrigued by this new development. "Any friend of Hal's is a friend of mine. How would you feel about a clean bed, a hot meal, and a bath? I have plenty of rooms—my partners and I run Grizzly Peak Ranch as a hunting and fishing lodge during the spring and summer."
Rafe saw relief and gratitude blossom on her face at his words, and it made him feel warm inside.
Shannon drew a deep breath. "Rafe Magnusson, I accept your offer of hospitality and thank you for it."
She looked nearly done-in with fatigue as she stooped to put on her socks and shoes.
He knelt to help her with her sneaker laces. "I have a first aid kit in the truck. When we get there, I'll cleanse and bandage those bite wounds, too."
"Thank you," she said softly as he worked.
He glanced up, and her smile took his breath away. As did the tentative hand she placed on his bare shoulder.
It was then that Rafe knew he was in real trouble.
Chapter 3 – Sheltered
Before today, Shannon had never met a shifter.
Her Granda, who had once been "recruited" by Whitepine Security Services before he managed to escape and establish a new identity and a new life on the island, had told her that he had often worked with Beast Warriors, fearsome shapeshifters bound to Colonel Perry's service. And that they obeyed his every command, no matter how brutal or bloody.
Within Whitepine Security Services, they served as Tier One security contractors, working alongside the special forces of several nations…but they also worked as Colonel Perry's most brutal enforcers, especially the wolf-shifters under the command of Erik Redclaw.
Whenever she had pictured a Beast Warrior, she had imagined a monster, half man and half beast, just like the two wolf shifters who had attacked her earlier.
The tall man carrying her duffel bag and courteously offering his large, callused hand to help her over the rocky parts of the crude road did not seem fearsome at all. And yet she knew beyond a doubt that he was a Beast Warrior, and worse yet, one of the bear shifters, who served as WSS's shock troops.
Rafe Magnusson appeared to be somewhere in his early thirties. He was ruggedly handsome, tall and broad of chest and shoulder, with shoulder-length hair the color of ripe wheat and a short, neatly trimmed beard to match. His skin was tanned the deep golden brown of a man who spent all day outdoors, and his eyes were the blue-grey color of a stormy sea.
In bear-shape, he was enormous and shaggy with golden-brown fur, curved ivory-colored claws longer than any of her fingers, and an angry roar that shook the earth.
In contrast, the splendidly naked man walking next to her was soft-spoken and chivalrous, with an air of warmth and gentle good humor that radiated from him with every smile and quiet comment. She could scarcely reconcile this aspect with the huge bear who had ferociously driven off the wolf shifters menacing her…
He had offered her hospitality, and against her better judgment, she had accepted it, because she was so weary after her long ordeal that each step was now an effort.
Even her healing magic had ebbed, leaving only a trace of its presence deep in her soul.