Not holding my breath, I arrange for my truck to be towed to a mechanic to see if it’s salvageable and leave with a loaner. Traffic is on my side today, and I make it to Mercy Ridge without another electrical incident, wandering the streets for a hotel to no avail. Eventually, I find a sign for a small bed and breakfast that’s without a doubt either haunted, or run by a Myst luring in his victims to devour and thinks the name is a hilarious pun. Seeing as it’s far too fucking cold to sleep in the car, I cross my fingers for ghosts and pay for the rest of the week up front before I’m shown to a room that’s surprisingly not half bad. The caretaker though? Pretty sure Dracula’s cousin is on a registry somewhere, or should be.
Note to self, get dressed in the gas station bathroom across the street.
Suppressing a shudder, I head out in search of a store to stock up on some basic groceries. Game plan is to make the most of my days off before the fundraiser by getting some solid time in with Mercy’s prettiest vet.
The roads are shit, but the rental SUV handles them better than my truck did on my last trip. At this point, I’m tempted to call the mechanic and tell them fuck it, just scrap the damn thing and I’ll upgrade. My only hesitance is knowing that until I get my power problem under control, it’s stupid to invest in anything expensive.
The grocery store is more impressive than I expected from a mountain town, but it’s not like I can cook much right now either way. As long as they have bread and a jar of peanut butter, maybe some jerky, I can survive the week. If I’m lucky, most of my meals will be spent in whatever restaurants Kiara likes, convincing her that I’m solid mate material.
I’m throwing in a box of protein bars when shouting has me reaching for my gun instinctively, gaze whipping to the right and…. “What the actual fuck?” I murmur under my breath.
The guy is clearly having some sort of psychotic break, pushing his cart out the door with his full ass hanging out, not a scrap of coverage to be seen. Don’t get me wrong, I get shifters play fast and loose with clothing, especially in myst havens like Mercy Ridge, but it’s the cornered, wild look in his eyes that puts me on red alert. He looks damn near…
Feral. Shit.
Hastily, I yank a few hundreds from my wallet and toss them in front of the cashier. “Don’t call the cops, man, I’ll cover it. The guy clearly needs help, not a jail cell.” Begrudgingly, the guy takes the cash and starts to ring it in, complaining about it messing up inventory by not scanning what he took, but I really can’t give a shit about his minor inconvenience right now. The shifter is on edge and looks like he'll snap someone's neck if they so much as breathe wrong in his direction. But under that? He genuinely looks more anxious than anything, like a starving animal that risked getting close to a threat to steal food and just wants to be left alone.
Feral shifters are so lost to their instincts that they’re a danger to society. There’s no coming back from that point. Logically, Iknow that.Hell, the last one I encountered still haunts me to this day.
I’d responded to an alarm call and walked in on a massacre. Four men had broken into his house and killed his mate in front of him while the rest of their bondgroup was at work. The shifter flipped a switch and tore them limb from limb, then moved on to attacking everyone that crossed his path before I tracked him down a block later. And when I had him pinned down? The tortured look on his face still haunts my dreams as he regained just enough lucidity to beg me to put a bullet through his brain before he could hurt anyone else.
But this guy? While he looks dangerous, he’s nowhere near the savage animal I dealt with before, more like a desperateone. Desperate people are the most dangerous though, because they either have nothing to lose… or everything. And yet, there’s something about the anxious edge in this shifter’s gaze that I can’t quite shake.
I follow him out the doors. “Hey, wait! I just want to talk.”
I really should have expected him to spook, bolting around the corner. Yet, by the time I reach the end of the sidewalk, his tracks simply disappear.
What the fuck?
I whip my gaze left and right, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Just up and vanished, cart and all. But he did leave one thing behind. I rub the heel of my palm over my suddenly tight chest, a slice of fear nestling there to stay and drive me insane in my own right.
This city is supposed to be safe, the wards surrounding it some of the most impressive I’ve ever encountered, yet they have feral shifters roaming the streets? What other dangers have slipped through the cracks?
If that appointment book is anything to go by, Kiara’s the only one working at the clinic. And now that I’m thinking about it, I didn’t notice a car in the parking lot, either.
Which means she must get a ride. Ofcourseshe has mates that drive her to work.
The wave of dejection knocks the air from my lungs. I’m an idiot. It was stupid of me to think I had a shot with someone as amazing as her.
No, actually,fuck that.
“Fuck those guys if they care so little about the most precious thing in their lives that they’re willing to leave her unprotected. They couldn’t even be bothered to install a goddamn security camera?”
They don’t deserve her.
And I’m going to make sure she realizes she deserves better and kicks their asses to the curb. I crack my knuckles. Maybe if I’m lucky, one of them will even put up a fight. He’ll lose, of course, but it’ll give me a chance to show Kiara that I can take better care of her than they ever did.
Chapter 16
Kiara
“Can’t believe I forgot it,” I grumble to myself, cheeks red from the blistering wind as I fumble my keys, finally unlocking the front door. I had to fend off a million questions from my brother, but he eventually caved and let me borrow his work-issued handheld energy reader. And I left it at home like an idiot when Stryker Thorn is due to show up for his appointment in less than an hour.
The difference is immediately noticeable. Sure, the heat was shut off two days ago, but the insulation makes it warmer than outside, at least. Not to mention the break from the arctic winds assaulting my face. Enjoying the temporary warmth, I race upstairs to grab the device and slip it in the messenger bag on my hip. On my way back out, a cold breeze gives me pause and I glance over at the living room window… only to find a gaping hole and shattered glass on the wood floor.
Scanning the room, I slowly creep down the hall, preparing to make a break for it down the street to Ever’s house. But I’m rooted to the spot when a man steps out of the shadows, blocking my path.
He’s a full head taller than me, tousled black hair so dark that it’s practically made of the shadows around him. Sharp edged tattoos run down the sides of his throat, and I follow the path down his chest and rib cage, over his hips to where they end mid-thigh. Hisbarethighs. Because this powerhouse of lean, sculpted muscle? He’s standing in front of me completely. Fucking. Naked. So it makes it impossible to hide the hundreds of scars and burns littered across his bronzed skin. His eyes are what still the breath in my lungs, though. That bright amber is piercing, unmistakable. As is the predatory, wild look in them.
