Scent Of A Mate: League Of Gallize Shifters

by Dianna Love

  Gan pointed at a squirrel scampering along a branch. “That animal born free. It owes no one. I was captured at birth and free only two days before your Guardian called tiger out of me, making me prisoner again.”

  Adrian’s gaze shifted for just a moment.

  Gan thought he’d seen understanding. The moment passed in a blink.

  Shoving dark hair off his face, Adrian snapped, “It’s not like that. The Guardian is fair. He could have put you in a titanium cage, but he didn’t. He put you here so you could gain control of your animal. An assignment you failed, by the way. Every Gallize is dangerous if he can’t control his animal. Even more so with someone like you, because your tiger should have been called up sooner.”

  Gan straightened. “How do you know about me?”

  Adrian opened his arms wide. “He told me. The boss wouldn’t drop a freakin’ Siberian tiger on my ass without some background.”

  Distrust crawled along Gan’s neck.

  What else had those two talked about? Should he trust this wolf or that eagle man at all?

  Forcing himself to stay with his goal, Gan said, “I think Guardian believes you have control. He knows you longer. He will save you and kill me.”

  The wolf shifter dropped his hands and stared away. “Told you, the Guardian is fair.”

  “Maybe for you.”

  The Guardian’s voice came into Gan’s head. It is time for both of you to return to speak with me.

  Adrian snapped his head around, all serious again. “You get that message, Psycho Cat?”

  “Yes.” Gan started out of the woods, still limping. His tiger growled and pushed to break out.

  That would be the fastest way to die right now.

  How would he convince this Guardian, the one person standing between him and freedom, to not kill him?

  “I have a letter for you, Adrian,” the Guardian announced as they reached him.

  “What?” Adrian acted as if eagle man had said he expected the wolf to sprout wings and fly. He took the wrinkled white envelope offered and stared at it.

  The Guardian suggested, “Why don’t you step aside to read that while I talk with Gan?”

  “Yes, sir.” Adrian sauntered off holding the envelope as if unsure about opening it.

  The crackle of paper tearing followed.

  True worry hit Gan’s stomach like a boulder shoved down his throat. He jumped in first. “This is wrong.”

  Cocking his head in that strange birdlike way, eagle man said, “Explain.”

  “I did not ask for tiger. I do not want to live as prisoner forever. Why am I punished when I did nothing wrong?”

  Adrian came jogging up. “You just don’t get how much trouble you’re in, do you, Psycho Cat?”

  But the wolf shifter’s words were not angry this time. His upbeat tone encouraged Gan.

  What caused this change in Adrian?

  Gan could hear the wolf shifter’s heart beat fast. Why did Adrian seem excited now when he had shown no concern about dying just minutes before?

  Adrian clutched the letter tightly, bending the paper.

  The Guardian must have noticed something, too. His sharp gaze shifted from Gan to Adrian. “Gan deserves to say his piece.”

  “True, boss, but he doesn’t always understand the language or that he’s digging a hole.” Looking over at Gan, Adrian frowned. “Put the shovel down.”

  Gan held his arms out with his hands open rather than explain to the wolf that he made no sense.

  “Give me a break,” Adrian muttered. “It’s a saying. It means once you’re in trouble, stop making it worse.”

  “Stupid saying. I cause no trouble.”

  “Never mind. You could have been explaining what we discussed instead of criticizing the Guardian.”

  For a moment, Gan thought he heard something entirely unexpected in Adrian’s voice. Hope. But he hadn’t spent enough time around other people, especially shifters, with these new senses to understand what he picked up.

  His tiger said, Kill wolf. Kill eagle. Eat now.

  Gan sent back a silent, Shut up or we die.

  Not afraid of eagle or wolf.

  Gan replied, Tiger not smart enough to be afraid.

  “Psycho Cat?” Adrian said, but not as a taunt. The wolf sounded concerned, as if he actually wanted Gan to go along with him.

  Looking confused seemed to be Gan’s best option, which ended up being easy to do since he didn’t understand what was happening. “I have problem with words. You explain.”

  Addressing the Guardian, Adrian said, “To be honest, I’m sick of eating fish and elk.”

  “And bison. You should not eat bison,” Gan added. His tiger banged his insides and growled, but he ignored the irritating monster as he would a child acting up.

  Adrian turned on him. “What is it with you and the bison?”

  The Guardian cut that short by saying, “I’m waiting to hear what you two came up with.”

  Gan wished he had more words in this language, but he gave it a try. “To stay here make our animals crazy.”

  Turned slightly away from the Guardian, Adrian rolled his eyes, but allowed Gan to finish.

  “This place has much land, but it is still cage. We have not killed each other when we could. We should be free.”

  Adrian muttered something that sounded like, “Way to go, shit for brains.”

  “You’re saying you can control your tiger?” the Guardian asked.

  “Yes.”

  Sounding disgusted, Adrian said, “This was a waste of time. I am not helping you when you can’t help yourself. I’ll speak for myself with the Guardian when you’re done. Leave me out of anything you have to say.”

  “What is wrong now?” Gan demanded.

  “You said you could control your tiger. I told you we can tell when you lie.”

  “Do I lie?” He looked at both of them. When no one accused him of lying, he explained, “I fight with tiger every day, but I have control.”

  “Prove it,” Adrian shot back.

  The Guardian watched them with curiosity.

  Gan drew in a deep breath, accepting that this would be his one and only chance of surviving. “Did my tiger attack wolf when you sleep? No. He could. We pass your den every time your wolf sleep.”

  Adrian whispered, “You don’t know where my den is. I would have scented you.”

  Enjoying a moment of confidence, Gan pointed to the west. “Your den is there, across creek, and past where big tree fall. Two tall rocks on one side of mouth to cave. You did not smell tiger, because he come by trees when we got close. Every. Night.”

  Adrian started to speak then stopped and shook his head.

  “Adrian? Is this true?” the Guardian asked.

  “I, uh, do have a den for my wolf in the spot he described. My wolf never liked the cabin.”

  “I got that impression when you burned it to the ground,” the Guardian said in a dry tone.

  “You burn cabin?” Gan had wondered why this eagle man had left them with a damaged building. “I do not think you are crazy.”

  Adrian’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

  “Maybe. Not crazy. Only idiot burns own house.”

  Adrian cursed at him.

  The eagle shifter ordered, “Language, Adrian.”

  He got a “yes, sir” in return.

  Rubbing his forehead, the Guardian said, “I must admit that I originally came here hoping you two had managed a truce while sharing the same space, which would allow me to reintegrate you into the human world.”

  Gan’s pulse jacked up. “Yes. We can do this.”

  “However,” the Guardian said, leaning hard on the word, “I arrive to find you battling each other. Had I not stopped you, one may have died.”

  Adrian looked around and back to the Guardian. “We have our moments, but like he said, we haven’t killed each other when we could have.” The wolf sent Gan a warning look. “Either
of us could have done that. Our animals have no outlet for releasing energy except to fight another male in their territory.” He swallowed hard. “We can manage our animals, sir.”

  Was that truth? How was Gan supposed to smell a truth from a lie? No one told him these things.

  Maybe that had been the truth, because Gan had just proved he possessed some control. He failed to mention he gave his animal plenty to chase all day and into the night before his tiger found a perch to sleep where he could watch Adrian’s den.

  Then Gan would shift back during the night and allow Adrian’s wolf to slip out unbothered.

  He did not understand Adrian. That man seemed unsure from minute to minute if he wanted to live or die.

  Through the silence that stretched, Adrian slowly crushed the letter in his fist.

  What words had been in that letter to sway the wolf when all Gan’s arguments had fallen on deaf ears?

  Eagle man locked his hands behind his back and paced a few steps, turned, and paced back.

  Adrian asked, “Will you consider allowing us to leave, sir? I honestly feel ready.”

  Pausing, the Guardian turned to face both of them. “I’m considering it. I believe you’ve been ready for a while, Adrian, but you never showed any interest in leaving. Am I correct in thinking something in that letter has spurred this change of mind?”

  “Yes, sir, but I’d rather not discuss it.”

  Nodding, the Guardian took a long moment before continuing. “If you tell me you are ready to be around humans, I’m willing to take that risk.”

  A big sigh of relief wheezed out of Adrian. “Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”

  Gan’s mouth dropped open. Just as he’d thought, this Guardian would help Adrian and not him.

  Fury boiled in his gut at years of being a prisoner and never getting a chance at life. Why couldn’t he have one day of freedom? Pain ripped across his chest at all the unfairness.

  Gan crossed his arms. He would not continue this way. He demanded, “Kill me now or free me, but give me fair death.”

  Chapter 4

  Downtown Spartanburg, South Carolina

  Scarlett tapped her fingers on the scarred surface of the table in Twilight John’s, a shifter bar. Humans would happen by occasionally, but even with their less developed senses, they quickly realized they’d stumbled into a room filled with predators.

  Some stayed.

  Mainly the human adrenaline junkies, who thrived by living on the edge. It was a game for them to see how long they could sit in the bar until the excitement rushing through their veins turned to fear. Their breathing would pick up until they were panting, hands would tremble, and they’d start looking around with paranoia pooled in their eyes.

  Big John would escort them out, explaining how predators hear the heartbeat in frightened prey.

  Many would admit they’d been waiting for a shifter to break out claws and fangs for a show.

  Too many humans saw shifters as strange entertainment.

  Fools. Laws prevented shifting around humans. Being in the right did little for a dead person, because not all shifters obeyed those laws.

  Only the ones who preferred life above ground.

  Being stuck in a titanium-reinforced cage underground drove a shifter’s animal mad until they died.

  No one dared break out their animal form in here with a grizzly shifter for a bartender.

  She swept a glance around the dark interior of the bar with more mirrors than pictures on the rough-cut wood walls. Heavy oak barstools and chairs constructed with an eye toward strength over design wore the scars of past battles. Dim lighting cost little and kept the intended clientele happy.

  Three male wolf shifters huddled in the far corner discussing the upcoming hockey season. It was only early September. Didn’t hockey start in October? Probably debating fantasy team picks.

  A female fox and a male mountain lion shifter sat two chairs apart at the bar, definitely not together. She drank a lemon drop martini.

  Scarlett scrunched her nose. Too sweet for her taste.

  Big John, the bartender who owned the bar, kept an eye on everyone while he washed wine glasses, even though he never lifted his gaze while doing it.

  She checked her watch. Her window of time continued to shrink. Her resource in Longtown had come through, barely. The guy had sounded nervous, which she understood. Her contacts never wanted to let her down and face the consequences. She’d hit him with little time to ferret out details she needed for tonight, but assured him she would not hold it against him if something unforeseen popped up. She had a reputation for her intelligence network and liked to keep her contacts on their toes.

  But in thirteen minutes she’d have to come up with a plan B, which would have no odds of succeeding.

  That eagle shifter would get an earful if he failed to deliver after confirming he’d send backup.

  The door opened, allowing a streak of late afternoon sunshine to shoot inside.

  Big John stopped drying the glass he held and raised his head.

  Everyone sent a pointed look toward the intruders.

  Scarlett recognized Vic from the Gallize shifters. She waved him over, signaling to the room she expected him. Everyone went back to what they’d been doing.

  Before the door closed, two more men walked in.

  One she’d never met, but the same Gallize power rolled off him.

  That arrogant Siberian tiger shifter brought up the rear. Damn his soul, he snarled softly under his breath.

  Shit.

  Then his gaze landed on her at the same second she inhaled his scent. That sexy look hit her in the gut ... and lower.

  Chica came alert and purred. Yum, tiger smells good.

  Double shit.

  Chairs scraped the floor as the three wolf shifters stood and turned as one. The couple at the bar slid off their stools and swung their backs to the bar, clearly united against a potential foe.

  Big John put his hands on the bar and stood still, but he had a double-barrel shotgun full of titanium loads within reach.

  He made sure that was common knowledge.

  Scarlett drew in a slow breath. Aggression flooded the air.

  What was the one thing she hated?

  Drawing unnecessary attention to herself.

  Standing away from the bar, she announced, “They work for me.” Technically, that was true. “Can I use your back room, Big John?”

  The fact that he didn’t respond immediately meant the bartender hadn’t made up his mind about allowing those three to stay.

  Or her, for that matter.

  She had serious doubts about this working, but rule one in any con was to own it. “Well?”

  Big John eyed the three strange shifters for a long moment. “Sure. Long as there’s no trouble.”

  “There will be no trouble, unless someone crosses me, and that only happens once,” she said for everyone’s benefit. She took her time eyeing every shifter in the room, daring them to cross her. “We have business to discuss.”

  The aggression backed down a notch.

  Probably because all the shifters not standing behind the bar had sized up the three Gallize shifters. With the exception of Scarlett, no one else in this bar would know what the secret group of shifters were, but instinct told them taking on just one of the strangers alone would be a tough battle.

  They had no idea.

  Those three shifters were apex predators.

  Big John nodded toward a door on the opposite side of the room from the entrance. “Let me know if you need drinks,” he said, just his way of letting everyone know no one scared him.

  She turned to meet Big John’s gaze and gave him a nod. “Thanks.”

  Dominance game over, she swung her attention to the three Gallize and ordered, “Let’s go.”

  That annoying tiger had better not argue. The Guardian kept all of his people in line, but she had serious doubts anyone had turned Ganbaatar into a “yes, sir” man by
now.

  She stepped ahead of her group and opened the door to a hallway, standing to the side.

  Vic went first. Then the unknown shifter looking freshly shaved and smelling like a wolf passed by, then Gan, whose scent gave off mixed messages. Was he angry, confused, or both?

  She didn’t care as long as he didn’t start trouble.

  He paused beside her with a smoldering look and murmured, “Scarlett.”

  Of all the things she expected to come out of that mouth, hearing her name in a deep bedroom voice hadn’t been on the list. She tamped down on the wild desire to rip his clothes off.

  Damn the Guardian for sending Gan.

  “Keep moving,” she ordered, while holding his blue-eyed gaze.

  He didn’t blink, that sharp stare reminding her of his hardheaded, demanding, and aggravating side.

  All true, but damn him, Gan exuded sex with everything from a simple hooded look to the pheromones sneaking past her defenses, teasing her hormones to come out and play. His beard had been trimmed in a more civilized style. The shock of dark hair falling past his ears she’d seen on him the first time had been cut. Now he had jagged black locks longer on top than the sides. Whoever did that for him probably thought he would style it.

  No chance. Not unless washing his hair and shaking his head like a wet dog could be considered styling. Why did that uncombed look boost his appeal?

  Chica hadn’t stopped purring. She said, Happy for tiger.

  That was because Chica did not have to deal with him. Scarlett had no idea why Gan was here, but he had no place on her mission.

  She’d made mistakes in her life and would make more.

  Ganbaatar would not be one of them.

  She jerked her head to the side, trying to get him moving into the hallway.

  He took his time. His eyes twinkled. Damn tiger enjoyed being a pain in her backside.

  Did the Guardian really think she would take him on this mission?

  Chuckling, he headed down the hall to the only open door. Those broad shoulders did wonders for a T-shirt.

  His words whispered back to her. “Is nice see you, too.”

  Egotistical hardhead.

  Had she missed the sound of his broken English? What was that accent? Slavic?