Shifter Crown: Valley of Truth and Denial (The Shifter Crown Series Book 1)

by Desni Dantone

  They were close enough to feel the rumble of their growls a moment ago. Now they’re on the other side of the parking lot, running backward as they flee the intimidating wolf. They reach the alley and take off with their tails tucked between their legs.

  My attention shifts to the wolf. For the first time, I realize how close it is to me. Close enough to reach out and touch its tail if I desire to know what a wolf’s tail feels like. Since I prefer having two hands and all ten fingers, I keep my arms tucked to my sides.

  I inch backward, attempting to slide the rest of the way into my car without the wolf knowing. I’m not as slick as I think I am, because the wolf turns its head to look directly at me.

  Nothing moves. Not me. Not the wolf. Not the air currently trapped in my lungs. Only a light rain continues to fall.

  I feel as if I’m drowning in the waves of Arctic blue that stare back at me, unblinking and unwavering. They’re strangely familiar to me—as is the beautiful creature they belong to—though I struggle to connect any two rational dots.

  Irrational dots? Yeah, I’ve got plenty of those strung together.

  For reasons I won’t fully understand until my first visit with a therapist, I break eye contact with the wolf. I glance at the pizza box and the baseball cap laying on top of it. Back at the wolf. Then the ball cap again.

  It’s not me who speaks, but a tiny unfamiliar voice inside of me—who clearly needs a psych evaluation because she says, “Luca.”

  A low growly noise comes from the wolf, and I know I screwed up. I don’t know what possessed me to think of him now of all times. What I need to do is keep my mouth shut and get in the car.

  First, I need to pry my gaze off of the wolf, but I can’t manage to do it. It stares back, then turns its entire body to angle one massive paw toward me. Still, I don’t do what I should do. I don’t look away. I don’t move.

  I may be the dumbest person Darwinism hasn’t yet eliminated, but I prefer to call it pride. I hold my ground, staring down a wolf of record-breaking size. The animal huffs once. My eyes narrow in a silent display of stubbornness.

  A growl vibrates deep in its throat, but it doesn’t sound menacing. If it’s possible for a wolf to be annoyed, then that is what this noise sounds like.

  Suddenly, the wolf turns and runs across the parking lot. I watch as it disappears into the night.

  I don’t know how long I stand there, regaining control of my breathing, before I move. It feels like hours but is probably closer to seconds.

  I pick up the wet pizza box, which appears surprisingly undamaged, and the baseball cap. I set both on the passenger seat of my car before I slide behind the wheel and turn on the engine.

  I sit there in silence as the shakes come. They consume me, and I give myself over to the rush of adrenaline and late onset of fear.

  “I could have died,” I mutter to my car. I pause to listen to the soft hum of the engine before I add, “Again.”

  That’s twice in a week Mother Nature has had it out for me. Everything around me feels like a threat . . . except for that silver wolf.

  “I stared down a wolf and it . . . it saved me,” I reason aloud.

  I glance at the cap beside me. I’m positive it’s Luca’s, which means that Luca has been in the vicinity both times. Most would consider it a coincidence, but I’m not a firm believer in coincidences. I tend to think things happen for a reason, even if those reasons are not always easy to understand.

  Whatever Luca’s connection may or may not be, I don’t know yet. What I do know is that he was here at some point tonight. He may still be here.

  I turn on the windshield wipers and look for a vehicle that a rich guy might drive. It doesn’t take long to spot the black Range Rover parked in the corner. The windows are heavily tinted so I can’t see inside. I can read the license plate though, and I type it into my phone.

  I don’t know what I will do with the information yet, but I plan to start getting some answers. Starting with who exactly Luca Caspan is.

  Chapter 7

  I’m attacked three days later, in broad daylight.

  The moment I step out of my car in the Hilderness employee parking lot, they are on me. It’s supposed to be a safe zone. To be held at gunpoint by two prepubescent campers before clocking in for my shift is the last thing I expect.

  The scream that flies out of my mouth is real. So I’ve been a little jumpy lately.

  I toss them a handful of flags. They give me a wide berth and the crazy-lady stare as they scamper off in search of another unsuspecting employee. I’m confident I won’t be seeing them again anytime soon.

  Inside the safety of the office, Danny asks me what job I want. I choose to work the front desk, and he places the back of his hand to my forehead.

  His lips purse. “Are you feeling okay? Feverish?” He quickly backs away from me with a knowing grimace. “Is it that time of the month?”

  “No, Danny. I’m fine,” I sigh. “I need a quiet, low-stress day.”

  Indoors, I mentally add, where I am less likely to encounter another wild animal. Or Luca. I’m thinking, and dreaming, about him enough. I don’t need to see him in person, too.

  Danny jots something into his manager notebook before looking up with a frown. “Cassie’s starting in the office at noon. You know she’ll kick you out.”

  I suppress an eye roll. “She’s the worst.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me. Do you want . . .” Danny glances down at the notebook. “Crafts or pool in the afternoon? I’ll warn you now, Mel is lifeguarding.”

  “Those are my only options?”

  Danny shrugs.

  “Fine,” I grumble. “I guess I’ll take the pool.”

  At least I will have the protection of a fence. It’s better than the craft pavilion. The problem is that it’s supposed to be a hot day. The pool will be packed, and I suspect Luca and his friends are more pool-and-girls-in-bikinis kind of guys than the crafts-and-small-children type.

  I’ll take another encounter with Luca over whatever wild animal Mother Nature has in store for me next, even if I have my suspicions about him. I don’t know what it is I suspect him of exactly, other than toying with my hormones, but it’s something. The hat I am positive belongs to him is burning a hole in my bag, constantly reminding me of what happened a few nights ago in the restaurant’s parking lot.

  As if I need the reminder.

  Every time I close my eyes, I see that silver wolf. Sometimes I see the wolf and Luca. Both awake and in my dreams. He is somehow involved. I know it.

  Danny’s fingers snap in front of my face, bringing my rambling thoughts to an abrupt end.

  I blink. “What did you say?”

  He eyes me curiously. “Sites thirty and eleven already checked out,” he explains slowly. “The couple at eighty-four bounced a few nights ago, even though they’re in the book for another day, so that site is open for drop-ins. You have a dozen or so reservations coming in this morning, so it’s going to be busy.”

  I nod once. “I can handle it.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Positive.” I wave a hand at the door. “Go manage, or do whatever it is that you do all day.”

  “You mean other than prevent the crew from killing each other over the fresh meat?” He flashes me a playful smile.

  “How is that going so far?” I ask, mildly more interested now that I know for a fact that Luca is part of that “fresh meat” currently riling up the female and same-sex oriented staff.

  “Be thankful you weren’t on the schedule yesterday. Site eight was MIA all day. I thought Mel was going to off herself. Then a big group of guys showed up to breath the life back into her. She’s rediscovered her purpose in life.”

  I snort on a laugh. “You mean to sleep her way out of Castien Valley?”

  “It is about the only way to get out of this town. You should try it sometime.” Danny wiggles his thick brows then pats the radio strapped to his hip on hi
s way out. “Call me if you need anything.”

  The instant the door shuts behind Danny, I turn toward the large filing cabinet behind me. The top drawer holds the registration details on all of the current campers. I leaf through them until I find the folder for campsite eight. Feeling like I could be James Bond’s daughter, I spread the file out on the counter and start my investigation.

  They’re registered under Luca’s name, which means I get to see a copy of his driver’s license. According to that, he’s twenty years old and has a birthday coming in a few months. He’s a Leo. Six-foot-two. Organ donor. Castien Valley address. Ridiculously attractive picture.

  Beneath that is his vehicle information. Listed on the paper is a Range Rover with a license plate number that matches the one I typed into my phone.

  Bingo.

  “He was there,” I murmur to myself.

  I flip through the remainder of the registration forms. His friends are Ryse and Ryder DeGraw. Other than their names, I learn nothing about them. The trio are confirmed for the rest of the week, with an option to extend their stay. Luca’s credit card was used to check in. Nothing new there, but I already found what I was looking for.

  The hat I’m carrying around is his. He was in the parking lot at some point around the time I was attacked.

  I am more convinced that something strange is going on around here and he is involved in it somehow. What I don’t know is whether or not he can be trusted.

  Is he as friendly as he seems? Or is he a threat?

  I don’t plan it. When I punch my time card, gather my bag, and get in my car, I have all intentions of going straight home to crack open a book. I don’t know what I’m thinking when I take a left at the stop sign instead of a right, park my car on the side of the narrow road, and get out.

  I step into the trees. I’m still on Hilderness property so the undergrowth is thin, with only a few patches of poison ivy to skirt around. After about thirty paces, I see spots of color peeking between the branches and leaves.

  Since I’m here, I may as well have a look around.

  I inch closer, eyes wide and alert for any signs of activity around the campsite. The Range Rover is parked under a canopy of leaves. Two tents have been erected in the small clearing, and border a pit filled with ashes from a recent fire. A navy blue cooler sits nearby.

  I stop at the tree line to listen for any indication that someone is moving around in one of the tents. I hear nothing.

  With a deep breath that fills me with courage, I step out of cover. I cast a furtive glance toward the trail that leads to the main part of the campground. No one is walking this way.

  I start with the cooler since it’s the first thing I reach. Inside, I find bottles of water and a few cans of beer swimming in ice water. Nothing out of the ordinary for a group of guys camping in the woods. No food has been left out to tempt the bears, and I suspect most of their supplies are locked in the vehicle.

  I don’t bother to check. A nice ride like that probably has an alarm that will alert the entire campground to the fact that I’m snooping around. I give the Range Rover a wide berth.

  The green-and-brown tents are zipped up tight, the mesh windows covered from the inside. I look over my shoulder to confirm that the trail is still clear, then I tug the zipper of the nearest tent open. Inside, I find one sleeping bag, a duffel bag stuffed with clothes, and a muddy pair of hiking boots. The next tent holds the same.

  Nothing unusual. Nothing unexpected. Nothing to make me think these guys are anything but a group of friends enjoying a week of camping.

  So what if one of them consumes my thoughts day and night? So what if he happens to have been present both times I was attacked by wild animals?

  I have no reason to suspect Luca of being anything more than the handsome, flirty guy that he seems. I suppose coincidences can happen. Not everything requires an explanation.

  Except I can’t let this go.

  I know he is here for a reason. It may not be any of my damn business, but I want to know why. Almost as much as I want to know who he is.

  My need to know may have nothing to do with the strange and unexplained things going on around me. A tiny voice in my head reasons that it is simply Luca, and not his possible connection to anything nefarious, that I want to know more about, and that voice is getting louder by the moment.

  He’s cute. Really cute. Anyone with eyes would agree.

  And he’s noticed me.

  Maybe he doesn’t have ulterior motives. Maybe he is genuine.

  I give my head a shake and slip back into the woods before I’m discovered and outed as a stalker. The sun is riding low on the horizon now, and that means the creatures of the night that prowl these mountains will be stirring soon. With my recent string of bad luck, the last thing I need is an encounter with a grizzly.

  I pat my hip, where my bag always hangs and where my bear spray is always near.

  Except when I leave it lying on the front seat of my car—exactly where I left it when I set out on this impromptu adventure to discover absolutely nothing.

  “Perfect,” I grumble under my breath.

  The first time in nearly three years of carrying the spray that I’ve had that feeling, and I don’t have it on me. The hike back to the road seems a lot farther now—an insuperable distance that I will never cross.

  The back of my neck tingles, prompting me to pick up the pace. A twig snaps. I don’t turn. I don’t look. I’m not that girl in that movie who walks toward danger while calling out, “Who’s there?”

  I cut around trees with fast and steady footsteps. My car is a spot of gray obscured by the greens and browns that separate it from me. Almost there. I will make it out of these woods—bear spray or not.

  Another twig snaps. Something moves through the underbrush behind me. Not charging. Not attacking. Following.

  Hunting?

  A cold shiver snaps down the length of my spine, and I can no longer control the instinct to look. To know.

  My feet don’t stop moving as my head whips from side to side, searching. With arms stretched out in front of me, leading the way around the trees and brush, I walk as fast as I can without breaking into a run. To run is to ask for death.

  A blur of movement to the left startles me, and I stumble. I fall to my knees with a hiss.

  I get up quickly and spin around, prepared to stare down whatever is hunting me before it determines I am easy prey. Dad taught me that trick. Make eye contact. Don’t show fear. Let it know you will put up a fight.

  I’m not surprised when I see a bronze wolf with black ears trailing me. What surprises me is that it doesn’t seem to care about me what-so-ever. I watch as it leaps over a fallen tree and trots closer. Its head swings in my direction briefly, then it slows. Sits. Licks its chops. Looks at the fading sun in the sky.

  I inch backward, maneuvering around a narrow tree in my path. My hands tremble and my knees nearly buckle with every other step, but I never take my eyes off of the wolf.

  My already racing heart nearly explodes through my ribcage when a second wolf wanders up to join the first one. They’re nearly identical, aside from their ears. One with black ears; the other with white. Both regard me with boredom.

  Luckily for me, they’ve recently eaten. That’s the only explanation for their indifferent behavior.

  I know I’ve reached the edge of the woods when the sun warms my back. A few more steps and I will reach my car. One foot crunches down on the gravel that covers the road, and I release a long breath.

  Both wolves stand as if one. The black-eared wolf howls a short, haunting note that lingers long after they turn and disappear from sight. I stare into the shadows that blanket the forest in disbelief, reluctant to turn and continue the rest of the way to my car with my back to the trees.

  No movement. No sound.

  “They’re gone,” I whisper under my breath. With a shake of my head, I add, “Unbelievable.”

  Two more steps backward bring
me within reach of the passenger side door, and the bear spray that waits for me there. Confident I am finally safe, I turn around.

  And scream.

  My hand clamps over my mouth, but the sound echoes through the valley long after my fear morphs into shock, then confusion, and finally mortification.

  Luca leans against the rear bumper of my car, arms folded at the chest, legs crossed at the ankles, and a sly grin on his lips. He lifts one dark brow at my reaction.

  “What are you doing here?” I demand.

  “I was about to ask you the same,” he counters.

  My mouth opens automatically, but no words of defense rush out. I have none. We both know it.

  He stares at me for a moment before he realizes I’m not going to attempt an explanation. Then his grin widens. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  No sense denying it. I stand up straight, trying to appear taller than my five-foot-six height. It doesn’t help. I feel minuscule next to him.

  “Not exactly,” I mumble.

  He pushes off the car with a grunt and looks down at the ground between us with a soft shake of his head. I can’t read him. I have no idea if it’s an angry shake, or something else.

  “You know . . .” He finally looks up, and I’m surprised by the flash of sadness I see in his eyes. “All you have to do is ask. Whatever you want to know. You ask, and I’ll answer. That’s typically how it’s supposed to work.”

  My feet shift uncomfortably in response to his surprisingly soft tone. “What if I don’t know what I should be asking?”

  “Then I’ll tell you anyway,” he says.

  “Tell me what?”

  He holds my gaze for a long time. I hold my breath as I wait, and I fear I’m unprepared for whatever it is he may say.

  He finally looks away with a sigh. “We need to talk.”

  “That’s what we’re doing.”

  “No. I mean . . .” He looks at me again—really looks at me. “Not here. Not for what we have to discuss. We need to go somewhere else.”