by Bianca D’Arc
“The old guy up at the cabin has been helping you?” he asked, nodding toward the boots that lay near the makeshift bed.
“Just on the last two visits. I guess he figured out I wasn’t a hiker camping in the woods. He gave me the blanket and the boots today, plus some other stuff the last time. I hunted deer and left meat for him after that first care package,” she admitted.
“That was well done of you. The old guy looked too skinny to me.”
“You saw him?” Her gaze shot to his.
“Honey, I followed you from his place,” he told her gently.
“I didn’t see or scent you.” Her eyes narrowed, and worry furrowed her brow.
“Please. Give me a little credit. I was Special Forces for a lot of years, you know.”
He moved farther into the cave and shook his head, trying to be as casual about this as possible. She needed to know that, while her skills were keen, there was always somebody or something out there who was better.
“I didn’t sense you until about the halfway mark,” she told him, her eyes asking questions.
“By the big redwood tree that skirts close to the hiking trail?” He wanted her to know the extent of his skill. “I chose that spot on purpose so you would think I was coming in from the trail. I didn’t want you to give up on visiting your friend if I scared you into deeper cover.”
She just shook her head. “I thought I was so good at this, but you’ve proven me wrong. I was just fooling myself.”
“Don’t take it too hard. I wanted you to know the truth so you won’t get overconfident, but the fact is, you’ve done better than any of us expected. You’ve been incredibly resourceful, finding tools and trading for supplies. You found better shelter than I would have expected and hid yourself really, really well. Those are all great things. As for being followed through the woods, that’s a specialist skill I’ve developed over years of training and practice. Even my gimpy leg hasn’t taken away all my tricks on that score.” He grimaced but turned it into a short chuckle to try to hide how much admitting that hurt him. “Thing is, you need to know the truth so you can get better, stronger and be even more cautious, just in case someone else is out there looking for you who doesn’t have your best interests at heart.”
“You think they’re still looking for me after all this time?” she asked.
He sighed. “I was.”
Georgio just let that statement sit there between them for a moment. If he had the patience and determination to go this long and this far to find her, others might, too. Or not. But it wouldn’t hurt to continue to be cautious.
Matilda tried not to shiver. She wasn’t cold. No, the idea that someone might still be actively searching for her—the way Georgio had been—made her weak in the knees. She’d thought enough time had passed that pursuit was unlikely. That’s the reason she’d decided to seek out people, again, albeit in a very cautious way, starting with the old mountain man, Frank.
If she’d realized Georgio, and possibly others, were out there, still looking for her, she wouldn’t have gone anywhere near humans. It was too big a risk. All it would take would be for Frank to say the wrong thing to someone. Or, worst-case scenario, be in league with the bad guys.
She wanted to shudder but tried to hold it back. If the wrong people had found her, she would be dead. That was the best result. She would choose death over being imprisoned, again. Even if she had to do it herself.
She couldn’t go back to those weeks of fear and torture. Of craving freedom and thirsting to see the stars that she couldn’t observe from her windowless cell. Neither part of her soul could take it. The lioness had gone nearly insane the first time, and her human half hadn’t been far behind.
Georgio seemed to sense her mood, even though she tried to hide it. He moved away, giving her space, which was just what she needed for the moment. He lowered himself to the ground a short distance away, putting his bag in front of him. With deliberate, slow movements, he opened the knapsack and started taking out some items. She watched, allowing his actions to distract her. Maybe that had been his intention.
“You’ve been hunting for your food,” he said quietly. “At least for tonight, you can rest. I brought enough for myself for a few days. It’ll easily stretch to feed both of us for tonight and maybe tomorrow, as well.” He put several cans and some items wrapped in clingy plastic that looked like sandwiches on the ground in front of him.
“You brought sandwiches?” she asked, moving closer to him.
He nodded. “I got these in a town not too far from here. They had a sandwich shop that proved to be really good,” he told her. “I’ve got turkey, roast beef, ham. There’s half a tuna salad sandwich left, if you want it. I ate the other half on the drive in. Sorry. And I’ve got these…” He pulled out a big baggie that had a number of containers of fruit in individual plastic cups. Diced peaches and pears, fruit salad. Her mouth started watering.
“It’s a feast,” she whispered, completely distracted from her fear.
“It’s yours,” he said simply, leaning back away from the pile of food in front of him. “Take whatever you want.”
He backed off the pile of loot and rooted around in his bag for the all-important accessories. Can opener, utensils, napkins. She didn’t wait. She merely took the leftover half of his tuna salad sandwich and started nibbling after a cautious sniff to check for anything suspicious. All she scented was tuna salad and bread, which was a relief. She was so sick of eating raw meat. Even when she dared to light a fire and cook her kills, she had no seasonings to make it tastier to her human palate. The gooey tuna salad hit her taste buds like ambrosia. She nearly moaned, it tasted so good.
“I only packed two bottles of water. I figured I’d refill from a natural source, if I could find a fresh running stream. I already drank half of one of the bottles, but you’re welcome to the spare,” he told her, offering a sealed bottle of spring water.
She looked up at him, unable to hide the suspicion that still lived in her soul. Nobody had been this nice to her in months. What she’d been through had changed her and her once-trusting nature.
She took the bottle and examined the seal of the cap before opening it. She was satisfied it hadn’t been tampered with and sniffed, too, before taking a cautious sip.
“There’s a spring not too far up the mountain,” she told him as she resumed eating a little less ravenously. “I go there at night, in my cat form, and drink. There’s no other big predators in the immediate area, and I’ve had luck tracking some of the larger animals by the water source a couple of times. I took down a few deer, following them from the water hole.”
“A sound strategy,” Georgio said, nodding his head as if complimenting her.
“I tried filling one of the old pans with water and bringing it back, and that works, to some extent, but the water gets really rusty if it sits for any length of time,” she said, making a face at the memory of that metallic water.
“We can reuse these plastic bottles. And I have something else in my pack you might enjoy.”
He rummaged around in the big bag and brought out a flat plastic bag that contained what looked like more plastic. He took the black plastic thing—whatever it was—out of the clear plastic bag that had held it and unfolded it. She didn’t have a clue as to what it was.
“It’s a camp shower,” he told her, holding up a hose that had a sprinkler head on the end. There was a large black plastic bag in the middle and a filling hose on the other end. “You fill it here with water, let it sit in the sun so the water warms up. That’s why it’s black, so it absorbs more warmth from the sun. Then, you hang it above you from a tree limb or whatever and open the valve here.” He showed her how to operate the valve that was right before the sprinkler head. “Water comes out, and you can position it however you like.”
A shower sounded just about like heaven to her, right now. “I’ve been washing in the stream, but it’s darn cold,” she admitted. “Maybe, tomorrow, I can t
ry your shower contraption?”
“Absolutely,” he told her. “I know, when I was released, it was little things like a shower, soap. Clean clothes. Good food. Those were the things that made me start to feel alive, again.”
His words were quiet, the pain in them real. She could feel it. This was a man who had suffered. He knew a little of what she’d been through.
She ate her sandwich and didn’t comment, though her brain was working a mile a minute. “Was it bad…where you were held?”
Georgio looked down, sighing heavily. Then, he raised his gaze and met hers. “It was pretty bad. They cut me. Beat me. Tortured me to try to make me turn to the darkness. They wanted to break me, but they didn’t. Thank the Mother of All, they didn’t,” he said in a whisper as his eyes shut tight for a brief moment. When he opened them, again, he had regained control of his emotions somewhat. “I know you were hurt. Seamus told us he thought you’d been cut. Do you know what was done to you?”
She shook her head. “Not all of it. I passed out from the pain during the worst of it. They didn’t use anesthesia. They just immobilized me with something that paralyzed my muscles but left me aware. The person with the knife wasn’t a doctor. She was…evil. She took pleasure in my pain. She wielded her scalpel to harm, not to heal.”
“We have a shifter doctor—an M.D.—in Grizzly Cove. He’s a polar bear. He could take a look at you, if you want. Maybe he could determine with an X-ray or ultrasound or something, if anything has been…uh…added or deleted.”
“Added?” She puzzled over his words for a moment. “You mean they could have implanted something inside me?” Alarm made her voice rise.
Georgio shrugged. “It’s possible. Or they could have taken something out. Our doc could probably figure it out, if anything was done while you were unconscious.”
“I don’t like the sound of this,” she told him. “I was trying not to think about it at all, but you’re making me imagine things.”
“Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t actually sound sorry. “Being an ostrich only works for so long. Eventually, you’ll have to face whatever was done to you. Just like I did.”
“And how well did that work out for you?” she wanted to know.
Georgio shook his head, his dark brown hair tumbling a bit. It was longer than military regulation, and just a bit curly. She wanted to run her fingers through it, to stroke it back from his face.
Where had that impulse come from? She shouldn’t be thinking lustful thoughts about any man she’d just met. Especially not a bear, for Goddess’ sake!
“I’m still working on a lot of it,” he admitted finally, drawing her attention back to the here and now and away from the tantalizing possibilities. “Coming home and healing as best I could was a big part of it all. Now that I’m about as good as I’m going to get physically, the mental work can take precedence. At least, that’s what the doctor said. His name is Sven. Nice guy and newly mated to a mermaid, of all things. They’re disgustingly happy.”
Matilda had to chuckle at his words. She could tell he was happy for his friend, the polar bear doctor, but his tone showed his wry sense of humor.
She would have to think about what Georgio had said before she could commit to going anywhere. For now, she desperately wanted a change of subject. Things had gotten a little too heavy for her.
“Do you want the turkey sandwich?” she asked, picking up the item in question.
“You get first choice,” he told her generously. “I’ll take whatever you don’t want. I like it all.”
She supposed that had to be true, since he’d picked out and bought the sandwiches in the first place. She shrugged and unwrapped the turkey sandwich, taking a big bite out of it and closing her eyes in pleasure. It was so good.
“Have you checked out the tunnels of this old mine?” he asked as he opened the roast beef sandwich she’d pushed in his direction.
“Yeah, I followed them far enough in to where there was absolutely no light. I can see well in the dark, but I need at least a little light to work with. There are air shafts every few yards, so during the day, I can get pretty deep inside the mountain,” she told him in between bites.
“Did you find anything interesting?”
Chapter Six
“Gold, you mean?” Matilda spared him a small smile. “Actually, yes. There’s a nice, thick vein running down the end of one of the tunnels that hasn’t been fully exploited, and I think there’s more that the previous miners didn’t find.”
“I wonder who owns this place?” Georgio mused, his gaze shifting around the cave.
“I don’t know, but how much do you want to bet that Sam is digging up every spec of information he can about the place, the people, the region and anything else his minions can find, right this minute? I bet, if I ask him tomorrow when we talk, he’ll know every last property owner in the area.”
“I’ve heard the Kinkaid Alpha likes to be thorough,” Georgio allowed, his smile inviting her to join him.
“That he does. It works, too. I mean, Sam didn’t get where he is now by being sloppy. Becoming king of the lions was just the luck of the draw, but his business was all of his own making. He built the company up from nothing, into a powerhouse.” She didn’t mind speaking the truth about her very capable cousin. He was one of the good ones, and she would tell anybody who asked just how competent Sam was.
As she ate and they talked about things big and small, she realized she was more comfortable with the big bear shifter than she’d been around any man in a very long time. He wasn’t like her family…exactly. He was even more calming and kind of exciting at the same time. It was a hard sensation to describe. She liked listening to his rumbly voice. It warmed places in her soul that had been cold for so very long.
She wondered idly if all bear shifters had this effect on women, or if it was just something unique to Georgio. If all bears made people feel like this, there wouldn’t be any single bears out there, and Grizzly Cove was set up, in part, to help all those single men find mates. So, maybe it wasn’t all bear shifters. Maybe it was just Georgio. Goddess help her.
She was starting to tingle in places that hadn’t tingled in far too long. Not that she’d been a nun or anything, but in recent years, she just hadn’t spent the time to form any relationships. And she wasn’t the kind of gal who slept around without some kind of commitment, even if she knew, going in, that the man she was with wasn’t her true mate.
Her mother had always claimed she’d known her true mate the moment she caught his scent, but Matilda wasn’t sure if she believed that. She’d heard other mated shifters say they’d known after the first kiss, or the first time they’d had sex with their mates. What she’d come to realize was that some knew at first sight. Some took a little longer.
She wasn’t sure how things would go for her if, and when, she ever found her true mate. She wasn’t even sure she’d be able to recognize him after everything that had happened to her. She wasn’t sure if she would ever be healed enough emotionally to risk her heart—though she’d heard it wasn’t much of a risk with someone who was destined to be your one and only.
It was a mystical thing. A magical thing. Something she wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready to find, or would even recognize, if she was so blessed.
And why in the world was she even thinking about it? Surely, Georgio wasn’t her destined mate. He might be yummy and have a delicious voice that made her want to shiver in a good way, but he was basically a stranger. A scary stranger with ninja skills and years of being a soldier under his belt. A wounded warrior with pain in his eyes and in every limping step he took.
She wanted to know more about what had happened to him. She wanted to know every last detail, so she would understand him better, but she knew that was…invasive, at best. She didn’t want anyone to know the depths of what had been done to her and how she felt about it. She was too ashamed. Too fearful of dragging up those helpless feelings and drowning in them. She knew bette
r than to ask Georgio to do that to himself just to satisfy her curiosity.
“Is it all right with you if I stay here tonight?” Georgio asked, breaking her out of her reverie. “I’ll guard the entrance in my fur, if that’s all right.”
“I’ve been sleeping in my lion form,” she admitted. “It’s too chilly here otherwise.”
“Smart,” was his only comment.
“I don’t mind if you stay. I’m glad of the company, actually. I thought I’d need more time before I was around people, but you’re…” She didn’t know how to say how comfortable he was to be around. “You’re okay,” she finally finished her thought, somewhat lamely.
She cleared up the wrappers from the sandwiches she’d eaten, and he offered the bag in which to put them. Like most shifters, he was good about not leaving litter around in the environment, she was glad to see.
“I like to get everything set in here before the light fades completely,” she told him. “I’ve been going to sleep with the sun, and then, if I wake up in the night, I go for a prowl. I figure nobody will see me in my fur in the dark.”
“Wise precaution,” Georgio told her. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll do the same.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, trying to make it sound casual. “Okay.”
They worked together for a few minutes, tidying up the little camp. When it came time to shift into her lion form, Matilda rather self-consciously fled partway up the mine tunnel to shed her clothing and change shape. Most shifters were very casual about nakedness when they shifted, but she had scars, now. Big scars. She was especially sensitive about them because most scars didn’t last through multiple shifts and eventually disappeared. So far, her scars hadn’t shown any sign of disappearing. Each time she saw them, she cringed as memories of her confinement and torture flooded back into her mind.
She called the lioness forth and was glad when fur sprouted to cover the scars. Georgio would have to look really closely to see them on her, now, though she would always know they were there. She prowled back into the main cave area on four legs and found Georgio had shifted to his bear form while she’d been away.