Mate Bond

by Jennifer Ashley

  Unless there were more than one of the things out there.

  The monster stank like a feral Shifter. Plus it was as crazed as one and three times the size.

  Kenzie drew a breath, took strength from the tension of Jamie beside her and the Shifters around her at the ready, and launched her attack.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Bowman heard the roar of the attack even through his agony.

  The vet, though she wore the stupid costume of a groupie, had efficiently shoved his bones back into position and wrapped his leg, but it fucking hurt. Bowman’s Collar had gone off, the shock trying to keep him from rolling over and gutting her, but had only succeeded in making the pain worse. Cade’s weight on his side didn’t help either. Kenzie had been so much sexier.

  Bowman knew he shouldn’t attempt to shift back until he was more healed—he’d risk snapping the bones in the splint apart. But he wished he could communicate better with Cade, find out what was happening.

  He snarled as the draft brought the smell of the beast down the hall, not that he hadn’t smelled it the instant the front door opened. Even the vet winced, and Cade growled.

  Bowman snarled back at him. Cross-species communication was sorely lacking among Shifters, but Cade had known Bowman long enough to understand him. He gave Bowman a nod and left him for the main part of the bar.

  Bowman started to push himself up, but the vet said sternly, “No, you need to stay down.”

  Bowman sent her a growl. He knew Kenzie was out there, in front of the others, leading them. He didn’t need a mate bond to tell him that. Kenzie knew what to do. Cade was now with her, and Jamie and Marcus. They had it covered.

  Except—every instinct in Bowman told him they didn’t. This monster was something new, something they’d never faced before. The screech and boom of the front door giving way, and the howls and cries of hurt Shifters reinforced that conviction.

  Bowman dragged himself up. The splint held. Though it hurt like hell, Bowman’s natural ability to heal was kicking in. Kenzie lying on him had helped a lot. The touch of a mate, though no one could explain the process, seemed to work.

  Bowman easily pushed past the vet, in spite of her protests, and staggered down the hall to the main part of the bar. What he saw made every human thought in him flee and his wolf take over.

  His mate and friends were battling the thing that had broken the doorframe it had shoved itself through. Cade had turned bear, the grizzly on his back legs, ears flat, roaring his power. The beast coming at them was three times Cade’s size.

  Jamie, with the lightning speed of the cheetah, was darting around the creature, trying to get under it for attack in vulnerable places. The beast caught Jamie with a swipe of a giant hand and threw him across the room. Jamie let out a cat screech, more pissed off than terrified. He hit the wall with a crunch, slid down it, and went still.

  Bowman dragged himself over to Jamie, who was out cold. Damn it. Kenzie had the right idea, but not enough Shifters to make it work.

  He had to do something, or this would turn into a bloodbath, all Shifters down. He snarled at the nearest Shifter, the cub who’d begged Kenzie to come help. The cub was a Lupine, one of Bowman’s clan. Bowman made him understand that he should look after Jamie, then Bowman left them and hobbled down the back hall again.

  He growled at the bar’s owner, who was cowering with the vet against the far wall, until the man got the idea and unlocked and opened the back door.

  The rear parking lot was still mostly empty, only a few cars and trucks left. None of the vehicles were what Bowman needed, so he crept around to the front of the roadhouse, keeping to the shadows.

  A row of cars in the front lot had been flattened by the attacking creature. The trucks had fared a little better, but most were dented and shoved askew.

  The truck Bowman sought rested at the edge of the lot, untouched. The pickup was a giant of a thing with a huge cab, raised body, and oversized tires made for off-roading.

  Cade’s truck. His baby. Cade had bought it used from a guy who ran monster trucks, and spent his days happily tinkering it into a honed machine.

  The beast paid no attention to Bowman as he crept across the lot, making for the truck, which told Bowman the creature wasn’t very smart. Even an ordinary animal made sure it knew what threat was behind it.

  Bowman reached the pickup and stopped a moment to rest in its shadow. For the next step, he’d have to shift back to human, which he knew was going to hurt.

  Shifters usually healed fast. Cuts closed rapidly and bruises vanished as the Shifter’s metabolism strove to make them whole again. They’d been bred to be fighters ages ago—battle beasts, they’d been called—meant to fight wars for others without suffering too many casualties.

  Nice idea. Hadn’t worked. Shifters had died being forced to fight other Shifters, until the Shifters had decided to combine forces and turn on their masters.

  Shifter physique had remained unchanged through the passing centuries, though, even if these days Shifters preferred to watch TV, drink beer, and get laid instead of fighting battles to the death for the Fae. Bowman knew his leg had already begun its healing process, bones and muscles knitting. Even so, this shift was going to be a bitch.

  Bowman suppressed a howl, then a groan as he moved from wolf form to human. His body protested, sinews not wanting to change and stretch. Pain lanced his broken leg but Bowman ended up human once more, panting against the side of the pickup, holding on to it and fighting not to pass out.

  Cade had locked his truck, but it was an older model, with no fancy electronic locks to foil would-be thieves. He’d locked it against humans, anyway; Shifters could easily break in, but they never would. Shifters didn’t touch one another’s things. They respected territory—violating it was deadly dangerous and bone-headed stupid.

  Bowman took a few more breaths, waiting until he could pull himself all the way up, then drew back his fist and punched out the window. He clenched his teeth against that pain, shaking blood from his hand. Then he brushed aside broken glass and flipped the latch to unlock the door.

  Another breath as he yanked the door open and used it to lever his body into the cab. He landed on the seat, then clutched the steering wheel and rested his forehead on it, searing pain making him want to pass out again.

  Bowman’s speculations had been right—when the splint had fallen away as he shifted, his leg had twisted in the setting, and it was broken again. But he’d have to live with it for now.

  Cade had the truck’s keys, but that fact didn’t slow Bowman down. He had the steering column broken and the wires tapped together in a matter of seconds. The truck roared to life.

  The beast spun around at the sudden sound, at last taking its attention from the roadhouse. Bowman turned on all the truck’s lights—headlights, fog lights, spotlights—every gimmicky piece Cade had bolted to the thing—put the truck in gear, and rammed his good foot to the gas pedal.

  The truck’s tires spun on the dirt, then caught, and the truck leapt forward. The monster hesitated, red eyes staring, then it snarled and charged at Bowman. The Shifters who were still whole poured out of the bar after it.

  The beast rushed the truck, and Bowman drove straight for it, never wavering.

  He hit the creature at fifty miles an hour. The truck’s windshield shattered as the monster slammed across the hood and onto the cab, crushing the roof under its weight. Bowman dove down onto the seat, his foot coming off the gas, but the truck kept moving of its own momentum, the weight on the cab sending it into a tailspin.

  The truck whirled until the bed met the side of the roadhouse. The beast was flung off, but the huge thing gained its feet, and a nightmare horror stared into the broken cab at Bowman.

  Someone had engineered a monster, but it was not put together from parts. This thing was whole—born, not made—with the giant claws of a bear, the maw of a wolf, and the face of a lion. And it was very, very big.

  The impact with the truck
had cost the beast, though. Blood ran down its side, and one of its arms dangled uselessly. It pulled at the driver’s-side door of the broken cab with its good hand and managed to rip the door off. Then the wave of Shifters—wolves, big cats, and one huge, angry grizzly—were upon it.

  The creature threw the pickup’s door at the crowd, then turned around and ran for the woods. Ran fast. The Shifters sprinted after it, but they stopped just inside the edge of the trees, sitting on haunches or standing with hackles raised, in both fear and frustration.

  The beast had vanished. The stench of it faded on a cool breeze, and the sounds of a normal night started up again. A car drove by on the highway beyond, as though nothing were out of the ordinary.

  Cade, now in human form, yanked open the still-intact passenger door. He was naked, smelling of sweat, fighting adrenaline, and fear. “Holy shit, Bowman.”

  Kenzie came to the driver’s side, reaching in through the opening that used to be the door. She was naked too, the parking lot’s lights sending golden light over her full breasts and their dusky tips. She had a strong body, skin taut over muscle, and curves Bowman lost himself in whenever he touched her. Curves that hugged him now, swallowing him in softness.

  A hell of a lot more appealing than Cade, he thought wryly. Kenzie stroked Bowman’s hair, her long-fingered hand moving over his pounding skull, soothing, cutting through pain.

  Behind him, Cade slammed both fists on the top of the dented cab. “Son of a bitch. Do you know how much work it will take to fix this? If I even can fix it. Hell, if the frame is bent . . .”

  “Cade,” Bowman said, his voice rasping. He leaned into Kenzie’s touch, the scent of her warm over the tang of the dying truck.

  “What?” Cade snarled, leaning in to listen.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Bowman said.

  He dropped his head back and slipped into blissful, empty darkness. The last sensation he felt was Kenzie’s hand on his hair, and the softness of her body as she bent down to kiss him.

  * * *

  “Anyone want to take any guesses what that thing was?”

  Bowman lay back against his pillows in his bed, one hand behind his head. He looked awful, his face blotchy, healing cuts all over his exposed skin, but his voice was plenty strong. His leg was in another splint, one for humans this time, sticking out over the covers.

  Kenzie knew Bowman felt better. He’d snarled at her when she’d tried to make him eat the chicken soup she’d made, so she’d snarled back at him, plopped herself down on a chair, and ate it herself.

  Cade and Jamie had come to report. Marcus, the other tracker, hadn’t, and Kenzie knew he’d spent the night with her cousin Bianca, whom he was dating—dating in Shifter fashion, that is. After a crazy night like last night, Kenzie didn’t blame the two of them for holing up together and not coming out for a while.

  Cade had a bandage wrapped around his muscular arm, and Jamie had one around his middle—cracked ribs. The two were nearly as robust as usual, though, Bowman being the one the most hurt. Kenzie had escaped severe injury by being quick, a fact she absolutely would not rub in with the trackers in this room.

  No one could answer Bowman’s question, so he went on. “Any trace of it?”

  “Nope,” Cade said. “We’ve been looking. Disappeared like it never existed. Like we imagined it.”

  “Nothing that stinks that bad is an illusion,” Bowman said. In spite of his injuries, he was still the strongest person in the house, which Kenzie knew with every part of her. Only the presence of Cade and Jamie kept her from sliding out of her clothes and snuggling in beside him. She needed contact with him as a Shifter for her pack leader, as a mate for her mate, as a woman for a man.

  And what a man. Bowman’s upper torso, exposed above the sheet, was tight, sun-touched skin over smooth cords of muscle. The hard planes of his pectorals were dusted with black hair that curled around her fingertips whenever she touched him in bed. His dark nipples beckoned her tongue—she loved the pebble-smooth feel of them.

  More wiry hair covered his solid forearms, fading to smooth skin on the inside of his wrists, where he liked to be licked. One firm, blunt-fingered fighter’s hand rested on the covers, while the other braced Bowman’s head, making his short dark hair stick straight up on one side. He’d leave the house like that if Kenzie didn’t grab him and smooth down the unruly hair. Bowman rarely looked into a mirror.

  Kenzie almost bit down on her spoon. Bowman was hurt, and here she was, getting horny simply looking at him, lying there so lazily, his gray eyes holding fire.

  She hastily ate more soup. Cade and Jamie would pick up on her mating frenzy if she weren’t careful, and tease the life out of her.

  “We take it as real,” Bowman said. “I want every tracker in Shiftertown in that woods and in the bar, getting its scent—”

  “Won’t be hard,” Jamie broke in. “The thing stunk like the shit of something that’s been dead twenty years.”

  “Not what you smelled, catbrain,” Bowman said. “Its actual scent, not the one it threw out to distract you.”

  Jamie growled, ready to snap a comeback, but something in Bowman’s face made him swallow it.

  “We’re on it,” Cade said seriously. “We know what you mean.”

  “Kenzie, go with them.”

  Bowman was looking straight at her, holding her gaze as he did when he wanted no argument.

  Kenzie wanted to protest. No, I need to stay with you, make sure you’re all right . . .

  Bowman must have sensed what was in her head, because he said, “I need someone there to keep an eye on everyone. I’m down, Kenz. I need you.”

  He did. If a Shifter wasn’t strong enough to fight, his mate needed to fight for him. Otherwise, those next in power would sense an opening and try to fill it. In the old days, such a thing happened often, and whoever pushed out or killed the leader would steal his mate and offspring. Hardly ever occurred these days, but this Shiftertown was still divisive, and there were those who liked to challenge Bowman’s power. Kenzie knew exactly who Bowman was worried about, and exactly why she needed to keep up a strong front.

  She gave him a nod, as though leaving him while he was hurt was no big deal. “You mean keep these buttholes in line?” she asked, meeting Bowman’s gaze. “I can do that.”

  Jamie pretended to look offended, but Cade grinned. He knew what was going on.

  Speaking of offspring, Bowman’s and Kenzie’s decided at that moment to walk in.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Bowman’s protective instincts went off whenever his cub was near, no matter how much he trusted the other Shifters in the room. It made him cranky, which Kenzie would be quick to point out.

  Bowman scented twelve-year-old Ryan’s fear, his worry. His extraordinary love for the boy rose up and made him soften his question to only a faint snarl.

  “Why the hell aren’t you still with your great-grandma?”

  “I couldn’t stay,” Ryan said. His hair was dark, like Kenzie’s—in fact, he looked a lot like Kenzie in the shape of his face, and in his eyes, which were golden like hers. He’d also inherited Kenzie’s back-talking sass. “Had to come make sure you hadn’t been knocked off, because then I’d have to take over Shiftertown. But it looks like you ran fast enough this time, Dad.”

  Kenzie should have said, Ryan, don’t be a smartass, but she only gave her son a look of sparkling good humor. “I made sure the monster didn’t catch him.”

  “Yeah, your mom kicked some good ass,” Jamie said. “Your dad was down in the first five minutes.”

  “The other guy looked worse,” Cade said. “But not because of your dad. Kenzie was fighting like crazy. You should have seen her. She didn’t even get hurt.”

  “Didn’t get hurt much,” Kenzie said. She’d been bruised and winded, but she’d recovered quickly. “But, sure, I did pretty good.” She huffed on her curled fingertips and rubbed them against her shirt. “Think I should go a few rounds at the fight club?”
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  “Girls can’t fight in the fight club,” Ryan said, but he sounded uncertain. “It’s the rules.”

  Cade broke in. “Because they’d all win, and make us big, lumbering males look bad.”

  Ryan’s smile came through. “Actually, I’d like to see that. I bet my mom could beat the both of you.”

  They all laughed, including Jamie, who prided himself on being the top fighter in Shiftertown.

  Bowman shot his son a smile, though his pain was still intense. Ryan’s fear had climbed down, and Bowman silently thanked Kenzie and the others for that.

  Ryan still needed reassurance, though. He needed touch, a hug, the close confines of family. Ryan was trying to hold it together in the presence of Cade and Jamie. One day, Ryan would become a tracker—those Shifters who guarded the leader and helped him keep an eye on everything in and around Shiftertown.

  “So, why are you all still sitting here?” Bowman asked them. “Get out there and start hunting.”

  “Got it.” Cade levered himself to his feet. He was a head taller than Jamie, who was long and lanky, but Cade was just big. Bears grew that way. “The sooner we find and get rid of it, the sooner I can start fixing my truck.” He threw Bowman a pointed look.

  “I want to help track it too,” Ryan said. “I’m old enough—”

  He was cut off by both his parents’ sharp, “No!”

  They hadn’t kept the fact that they’d been attacked by some unknown, huge creature secret, because neither Bowman nor Kenzie believed in protecting their cub through lies. The problem with that approach, though, was that Ryan thought he should be able to join his parents in tracking, fighting, and dealing with anything, no matter how dangerous it might be.