AlphaMountie (7 page)

They left early the next morning, heading north in Cam’s jeep
rental. A call to Detective Wahid, the woman Noire had met on Ward’s Island, brought
news—Steve Page had purchased a sizeable amount of camping supplies the day before,
including a new set of hunting knives, fire-starters, water bladders and protein
bars. Clearly, he was planning on a long, potentially hard, journey. This gave credence
to Noire’s theory that Page was returning to Algonquin Park and his potential den
to hibernate for the winter.

They drove north, through the skyscrapers of Toronto, continuing
past suburbia, farmlands, and then finally at Burleigh Falls the great limestone
rocks of the Canadian Shield rose up on either side of Highway 28. Here, the highway
had been cut into the stone. Unlike in the city, where the occasional lone tree
seemed like an intruder between buildings, now their car was the one that didn’t
belong. They were nearly three hours into their journey, almost halfway to the park.
Rocks and pines towered over them, and for the first time since last night’s orgasm,
Noire began to relax.

She saw a similar awareness come into Cam’s posture, and she
wondered what it was like in his mind. Did he think of himself as a wolf trapped
in a car, yearning to run over the rocky terrain? How did it feel? Noire had always
been a little jealous of Fawn’s shifting abilities, though she never could have
seen herself as a deer. Too skittish, too passive, too…gentle. Perhaps Noire was
more of a wolf.

At one point, to pass the time, they turned on the radio and
sang along to the Tragically Hip. Later, they shared stories. As he drove, Cam told
her of growing up as a young pup among a large family of cousins in the forests
in British Columbia, just north of Prince George where he worked now.

“We would run for days sometimes,” he said. “Even before I reached
puberty and could turn into a wolf. We’d just run and run, some in wolf form, the
rest of us human, our feet tough as moccasins with calluses.”

As he spoke, he kept one hand on her thigh. She was preternaturally
aware of the warmth of him, of his presence beside her in the car. She napped and
when she awoke, his hand was still on there. She drifted in and out of sleep for
the rest of the ride, comforted by his presence beside her.
I could definitely
get used to this
, she thought. The life of a park warden was fairly solitary,
and with Fawn now dead, she had no family left. Noire wanted a large family and
had always looked forward to raising her children the way she had been raised—to
know the woods inside out, and to be capable and able to survive anything, the way
she was. She’d almost given up on the idea, as there weren’t many men who shared
her lifestyle.

She shook the daydreams from her mind as they arrived at the
beginning of Algonquin Provincial Park. As Cam continued to drive down a winding
path into the park, Noire pressed her face against the passenger window, thrilled
to be home. Her eyes took in the towering pines and the few remaining spots of orange
and yellow as the deciduous trees lost the last of their leaves. She rolled down
the car window and inhaled the scent of home—a heady combination of pine, moss and
fresh air. They drove past a sign that noted a popular deer crossing, warning motorists
to slow and keep an eye out for wild animals on the road.

She couldn’t stop smiling. God, she loved this place. Noire tossed
a quick glance at Cam and saw he shared her pleasure in finally arriving at the
wilderness. They made eye contact and grinned at each other before he turned back
to the wheel.

Cam and Noire stopped at Noire’s cabin for supplies, knowing
they might have to hike the forest interior for several days. It was a small wooden
building that had running water and electricity, but that was the end of the creature
comforts provided. The main room was decorated much like a hunting cabin, all in
shades of wood brown and moss green, but without any trophies hanging on the wall.
While Noire did hunt, stuffed moose and deer heads had always bothered Fawn, so
she kept no reminders of what she’d killed—simply ate the meat, and shared the hide
with local Natives who turned them into moccasins or clothing for themselves, or
to sell to tourists. At this southern edge of the park, there were quite a few small
gift shops run by locals.

Noire and Cam each took a shower, knowing this might be their
last chance for hot water. Noire re-loaded her pack with supplies, including maps,
a tent and a large amount of ammunition. She tossed two shotguns in the trunk of
the rental car; they would be able to drive a bit farther before heading out on
foot or canoe.

She knew Cam’s plan was to fight their enemy as a wolf, though
he hadn’t said as much. They were on the same page as far as Page’s fate—they wanted
him dead, not in jail. For Cam, the issue was exposure—the fewer people who
knew about shapeshifters, the better. And if they were right about the possibility
of their enemy being a skinwalker, it was possible a prison wouldn’t hold him. A
smart skinwalker would find a way to smuggle in the pelt of a small animal like
a squirrel or bird, and simply slip out of the cell.

Noire didn’t care about practicalities—as long as he was dead
at the end of their trip, she would be happy. She agreed that the best way to do
it was to have Cam fight him. A wolf kill was much less traceable than a bullet,
and they wouldn’t have to explain anything to local authorities or the detective
team from Toronto. Still, it would be foolish not to pack her own weapons, since
they didn’t know which pelts Page had obtained or how dangerous they might be. She
added a knife to her belt as well. Better safe than sorry.

Noire felt more comfortable now in hiking gear and knowing her
shotgun was nearby. This was the one place in the world where her body didn’t feel
awkward or too strong. The beautiful forests of Algonquin were her territory, and
she was an Amazon. Her warrior woman self simply carried a gun rather than a bow
and arrow. Modern times, after all.

They stopped at a nearby Tim Horton’s coffee shop after that,
hoping to catch the local gossip. Cam ordered an apple fritter and a black coffee,
and Noire took some chamomile tea, hoping to calm her nerves.

She recognized Patrick McLennan, an older gentleman who was the
father of one of the other park wardens, seated at a table with two of his friends.
Pat was in his mid-seventies and could always be counted on to share the local gossip.
She grabbed Cam’s arm and pulled him over to their table.

“Well, if it isn’t Noire Pelletier! Haven’t seen you in a few
weeks!” The older man pulled Noire into a bear hug. She thrust her tea at Cam so
it wouldn’t spill as each of the men hugged her in turn. They all sat down at one
of the large plastic tables.

“Hey, Pat, great to see you but we can’t stay long. This is my
friend and colleague, RCMP Constable Campbell Dawson.”

The men greeted Cam with firm handshakes, pleased to see a Mountie
among them. Noire knew Cam’s presence would supply their gossip for the next week
or two, so she let them enjoy it.

“Pleasure to meet you all, gentlemen,” Cam said, nodding to Noire
to take the lead. She inhaled a deep breath, hoping that she wouldn’t fuck it up
again like she had at the hostel.

“Pat, Duncan, Liam, you all heard about my sister Fawn.” As she
spoke, the men took turns patting her arm in sympathy. “We’ve been looking into
her death in Toronto. We think the man who killed her might be coming back this
way. Have you heard of anything strange happening here while I was away? We might
be looking for animal-related kills or attacks in particular.”

“You mean you haven’t heard then, lass?” Liam turned up his slight
Irish accent, the way he always did when he meant for something to sound extremely
serious. It had the opposite effect.

“Heard what, Li?” Noire asked.

“Jedd Tisdale was killed early this morning before dawn.” Liam
crossed himself and the other men murmured to themselves. “Official word is a bear
did it, but they found him naked, clothes back near his house.”

Noire’s heart sank. Jedd Tisdale had been another park warden.
She’d known Jedd well—so well that she knew he was a shifter himself, a moose. After
they got the location of the potential crime scene and determined that the men had
no more information on the death, Noire and Cam went back to the car. They turned
northwest, taking a detour from their original plan. The location of Jedd’s death
would be a fresh trail. Perhaps they could track Page to his den and surprise him
there.

As they headed into backcountry, they stopped at a rental shop
and tied a canoe to the car—Noire figured they had no idea where they might end
up after the crime scene.

“You say he was a big guy, strong?” Cam asked as he drove.

“Yeah. Jedd was at least as big as you. Tough as nails. The only
reason he’d be caught without his gun is if he was out shifting last night.”

“So Page is getting more confident then. He’s moved on from those
he identifies as helpless, easily influenced young women. He’s not just after prey
animals anymore—a moose can really fight back. Are you sure you don’t want to sit
this one out, Noire? Let me handle it?”

“If he’s stronger, that’s the dumbest thing we could do. One
wolf against one giant bear—or worse, whatever else he has killed? You need me.”

Cam snorted at that, but looked pleased at her concern. Noire
ran a finger down his cheek and against his lips; he sucked it inside and nipped
softly at it. She sighed and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Maybe he’ll get cocky enough to mess up?” she offered.

“Maybe,” Cam said. “But I wouldn’t count on it.”

When they arrived at the clearing where Jedd had been killed,
all signs of the body had been erased. Noire wondered if she would get back in time
for the funeral, and if she’d get to see her friend again before he was put to rest.

Jedd’s death seemed completely surreal. She’d protected these
woods for so many years and couldn’t imagine a killer stalking her friends through
the trees. There were all kinds of dangers in the park for the untrained outdoorsman—wild
animals, poisonous mushrooms, storms of lightning or ice, unpredictable terrain.
But in general, other people weren’t one of them.

There was something different, more nightmarish, about the killer
coming into her home. Coming after people she knew, where they were supposed to
be safe.

Fawn had chosen to go to Toronto, and knew she wouldn’t be protected
in the city. She’d considered the risk worth it. But for a killer to take her
sister’s life, and also destroy the safety of Noire’s home? She felt violated in
every way imaginable. They had to stop him. No matter what.

They walked the clearing in silence. Noire had called in to the
local police and received more information—Jedd, like Fawn and Linn, had all the
skin removed from his back. While they couldn’t see any remaining traces, Cam picked
up the scent of a black bear and human blood leading farther northwest. Noire pulled
out a map and plotted the best course. They would camp nearby overnight, then start
off by canoe in the morning. Based on the way the bear was headed, she expected
his den would be slightly west of Lake Opeongo.

They set up a small, orange two-person tent, and Noire set up
tinder, kindling and logs in a tepee pattern to start a fire. They had several days’
worth of freeze-dried rations for the trip.

Before she could open one of the packs of rations, Cam stopped
her.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Yes,” Noire said. She didn’t even have to think about it. Though
she’d only known the man a scant two days, she trusted him completely. At times,
she could tell what he was thinking. Right now, by the tightness in the skin around
his full lips, she knew he was worried. “What is it?”

“I was just thinking—I could use a run in wolf form before we
get some sleep. I’m all jittery from the city. Sometimes my wolf goes a little loopy
when I let him out the first time in a new forest. I don’t want to have to deal
with that if we run into the bear tomorrow.” It was the most he’d spoken in a while,
so Noire knew this was important to him.

“You mean you want to change? Go ahead. I’ve seen my sister do
it. It doesn’t bother me. Or if you’d prefer to do it in privacy, I’ll make a mental
note not to scream if a strange wolf wanders into the campsite,” she said.

He smiled at her. “Should we have a code so you know it’s me?
Don’t want you getting eaten by an actual wolf.”

“What, howl twice and growl once? Shake a paw?” Noire teased
him. “Roll over and let me rub your belly?”

“You can rub me any day.”

“Don’t worry,” she said dryly. “I think I’ll recognize you. Catch
us some rabbits while you’re at it? I’m not exactly looking forward to rations,
but after the past few days I’m just not up for setting snares.”

“You don’t mind rabbit stew for supper?” He sounded surprised.
Noire surmised that he likely wasn’t used to women who thought of bunnies as food
rather than cute pets.

“I would love some rabbit stew,” she said. “I’ll get the pot
started.”

“Perfect,” Cam said. He started to unbutton his shirt—that gray
uniform shirt again. Noire took a break from the fire to help him with his tie.
She tugged on it first, pulling his face close to hers and giving him a swift kiss
on the mouth. Then she started on the bottom buttons, working her way up to meet
him. As they removed his shirt together, she marveled again at the taut muscles
along his chest and down his stomach. She felt lightheaded, wanting nothing more
than to take one of his nipples between her teeth and tease him to distraction.
She was surprised at the fierceness of her desire, and knew there was something
else bothering her.

He took both her hands in his and stood there for a moment, wearing
nothing but his pants and boots. “Noire,” he said, “I’m going to be fine. I’ll be
back in less than a half hour with supper, eh?”