Shadows of Fire (21 page)

Whatever
the outcome—they’d handle it all with love.

Reese
smiled down at Alex. “I was hoping to get lucky tonight.”

The End

Also Available

by Nina Pierce

Please Enjoy
this excerpt from

Bonded Souls

The prequel in
the Shifting Bonds series

Chapter One

Jayda Kynslan sauntered
into the Whip and Bull Tavern, wanting only two things—a cold beer and a hot body.
The first, she hoped would ease the heavy ache in her chest. The second would
be part of a good-looking man who would replace the images of the jackass who’d
broken her heart. This whole road trip to the high mountains of Montana had
been a knee-jerk reaction to the asshole’s selfishness. Jayda shook her head,
clearing away thoughts of the friggin’ pig of a manwhore. She didn’t want to go
there tonight. This night was about getting a little buzz and a whole lot of
sex.

Her first objective was
only as far away as the bar across the room. But weaving her way through the
handful of empty tables, her red cowboy boots tapping across the peanut shells
strewn on the marred floor, Jayda realized finding someone to fulfill the
second thing on her wish list wasn’t going to be as easy. She’d picked a bad
night to go cruising for male flesh in a nearly empty bar that seemed to cater
to the college crowd.

Plunking her voluptuous
ass on one of the padded barstools, Jayda lifted her hand to the bartender.
Some might consider Jayda overweight, but she liked to think of her
size-sixteen frame as curving in all the right places. Why men would go for the
little waifs with nothing to hold on to, like the petite blonde behind the bar,
was beyond her understanding.

“A long neck. Something
domestic. I’m not picky,” she said to the female bartender, who looked only
slightly less bored than Jayda felt at the moment. Except for football season,
which had already passed, she figured Monday nights, even in a cowboy town like
Lonesome Fork, weren’t really big tavern nights for most people.

The bartender’s
ponytail swayed as she set down the bottle, offered a glass, which Jayda
refused, and slid over the bowl of peanuts. In a hurry to begin her vacation,
Jayda hadn’t bothered to eat lunch before leaving the vet clinic. Anticipation
had kept her driving through the Montana mountains and now her stomach rumbled,
reminding her she hadn’t taken time to fix herself dinner before leaving the
cabin either. Grabbing a handful of nuts, she broke open the shells and popped
them in her mouth. She scanned the reflections of the patrons in the mirror
behind the bar, searching for possible targets.

Tonight, Jayda decided,
would be her last go-around with the opposite sex—unadulterated, uncomplicated
coitus with a complete stranger. A nice memory to hold on to in the quiet of
the night when she was alone in her bed. Jayda didn’t want to need a man. She
was a successful veterinarian in a big practice. It should be enough.

After tonight, she’d
spend the week in solitude at her friend’s mountain cabin, mending her shredded
heart and planting her feet solidly on the path to celibacy. Obviously, two
weeks drowning her sorrows with tears hadn’t helped. Men, Jayda had come to
believe, were nothing but scumbags of trouble on the garbage heap of misery.
The sooner she cleared them from her mind, the happier she’d be.

Jayda nervously toyed
with the bangle bracelet at her wrist. She’d chosen this evening’s outfit to
accent her best features. Her ass was swaddled in her favorite pair of worn
jeans. A white cashmere sweater displayed her plentiful cleavage quite nicely.
The clothes definitely announced, “I’m yours for the taking.”

She hadn’t wanted to
mess with the corkscrew curls of her hair while traveling the ninety minutes
from her condo in Blackfish Springs to the cabin in Lonesome Fork, so Jayda had
pulled the whole mess into a long French braid. The thick tail of black curled
over her shoulder and draped invitingly over her left breast.

Unable to make out
faces in the murky light of the tavern, Jayda gave up on her sly inspection of
the clientele and kicked the stool a half turn. Leaning one elbow on the padded
edge of the bar, she casually sipped her beer, assessing her chances of getting
laid.

A rowdy group of young
men, barely old enough to drink, sat at a booth, flicking a paper football
between them. A few others spilled onto the tables next to them. Most likely
students from the state university at the base of Coppertip Mountain. Though
their youthful stamina would be a definite plus, Jayda thought a more
experienced man would leave her with more
satisfying
memories. A sigh
puffed out her cheeks, and she turned the stool back to the bartender.

“Quiet tonight,” she
said.

“Give it another thirty
minutes.” The bartender flicked her head toward the door leading to the back
room of the tavern. “Monday’s the mechanical bull competition. They’ll start
filtering in here soon enough.” The woman swirled a couple of beer steins in
some homemade rig for cleaning glasses and set them next to the sink. “Not from
around here?” She turned the statement into a question.

“That obvious?” Jayda
casually shelled a few peanuts, adding the husks to her neat pile on the bar.
“I grew up in New York City, but now I’m living in Blackfish Springs. Even
after four years in the foothills of Montana, I can’t seem to lose the city
accent.”

The bartender smiled.
“Lonesome Fork’s a small town. I know most everyone coming and going. Accent’s
not that obvious.” The bartender used her cloth to wipe the bar and push the
peanut shells to the floor. “Part of the Whip and Bull’s ambiance,” she said,
almost as an apology. “What brings you to Lonesome Fork?”

“A man.” Jayda
immediately regretted the words. It didn’t help that the cobalt eyes staring
back at her grew wide with surprise. Jayda’s hand shook with her head, wiping
away the confusion. “That came out wrong.” She took a long pull of her beer,
trying to wash down the embarrassment. “What I mean is…I’m not looking for a
man. I just broke up with my boyfriend and I’ve come here for a vacation to get
my head on straight.”

Tension eased out of
the bartender’s shoulders and she smiled and nodded. “I’m Becca.” She wiped her
hand down the small apron around her waist before extending it to Jayda. “Nice
to meet you…”

Jayda shook her hand,
relaxing into the female kinship of understanding. “Jayda. Jayda Kynslan.”

“Well, Jayda, Jayda
Kynslan, welcome to Lonesome Fork.” Becca leaned in conspiratorially. “I
guarantee the fresh mountain air smells a hell of a lot better than
testosterone.”

*
* * *

Cole Takoda shoved the
Saab into park, wondering again why Aaron had felt the need to call him. It was
one of his few nights off, and he’d wanted nothing more than to settle in with
the most recent Clive Cussler novel and some classical guitar music. But
Aaron’s curious phone call had made that impossible. He’d left the quiet of his
log house, grabbed his leather jacket, and hightailed it to the Whip and Bull
all because his head detective had
strongly
recommended he stop over for
a beer.

Cole’s cheeks puffed
with the frustration heating his blood. With each step through the dirt parking
lot, weaving around the old trucks and rusted beaters of the college crowd, the
apprehension squeezing Cole’s gut drew tighter. Two nights before the full moon
and something certainly seemed a little—
off
.

It probably had more to
do with the tone of Aaron’s call than something riding on the chill air of
March ruffling through his hair. He could smell the snow. Forecasters claimed
to have a clue, but they’d said clear skies and warm temperatures would
brighten everyone’s spring for the next couple of days. He laughed. Obviously
none of them had Cole’s nose or they’d know a real storm was brewing.

Pushing through the
battered door of the tavern, Cole was immediately assaulted by the scent of
stale beer, wolf shifters and bodies in heat. Okay, sometimes his acute sense
of smell wasn’t an asset. He kept his head down, not wanting anyone from his
pack to stop him for a lengthy conversation about legends. With the upcoming
full moon, it seemed that was all anyone wanted to discuss these days.

He took a moment to
acknowledge Becca behind the bar and signaled for a beer. The woman was a
permanent fixture here. But so were the college kids and regulars he was hoping
to avoid.

Cole had every
intention of running in, helping Aaron control whatever fire was currently
burning, and heading back home to enjoy the rest of his evening. Quiet nights
at home were rare for the chief of police.

Not that it appeared
anything out of the ordinary was happening at the moment. But then again, it
was only ten o’clock. Trouble never started at the Bull until well after
midnight when too much booze mixed with shifter testosterone and feminine
allure.

“Hey, Cole.” Aaron
Wallace stepped away from the crowd gathered around the mechanical bull and
strolled up to him.

Cole didn’t read
anything in his best friend’s casual posture or the nonchalant way he drank his
beer. Aaron was as mellow as a well-aged cognac and just as smooth under
pressure. But the fact he’d called Cole at all meant something significant was
going down.

“I’m here. What’s up?”

“Sorry to pull you from
your exciting night.” Aaron cocked a brow with his shit-eating grin.

Aaron’s teasing of
Cole’s austere ways didn’t bother him. The two of them had gone through the
academy together, competing for grades and status. But Cole had worked his way
to chief of police while Aaron had chosen to take the detective’s exam.

“Anyway, I thought
you’d like to check things out. You know, keep your finger on the pulse as they
say.” Aaron lifted his chin toward the crowd. “Check out the woman in the white
sweater. Front row. Long braid.”

Aaron wasn’t prone to
getting worked up about anything if it didn’t include evidence to a crime, and
even then one had to really be looking for it. The slight tick in the man’s jaw
told Cole something more than a great ass and pretty eyes had launched Aaron
into investigative mode.

“I’ve never seen her
around here—” Aaron stopped abruptly as the waitress delivered a beer. Cole
slipped her money for the long neck, along with a generous tip. Though Aaron’s
head motioned casually toward a corner table, there was nothing relaxed about
the way he steered them away from the raucous crowd. The man obviously didn’t
want others inadvertently overhearing their conversation.

Cole swallowed his
confusion with a few gulps of beer before settling at the battle-scarred table
next to Aaron. “Why the hell are your panties in a twist? Strangers pass
through Lonesome Fork all the time.”

“She’s more than a
random stranger.” Aaron shrugged. “She’s a wolf shifter. But there’s something
else.”

“What the hell else is
there?”

Aaron leaned back in
his chair. “It’s no skin off my nose and I don’t really give a shit if you
believe me. I just thought you’d like to know something may be brewing and this
woman could be a catalyst.” Aaron shrugged and slugged down the last of his
beer. “I stopped by to grab a couple of brews, watch a little of the bull
riding competition and maybe offer Becca a ride home. Then
she
came in.
Got everyone’s attention without even trying. She’s got them all riled up.
You’ll see.”

Cole shot a look over
his shoulder at the men and women gathered around the foolish bucking machine
that passed for entertainment near the end of a long winter.

“I mean she’s
good-looking and all, but even the women are sniffing around.” Aaron lifted his
empty beer bottle to signal the waitress. “And with the timing, I’m just
wondering…” He let the thought hang out there with the confusion roiling
between them.

“Wondering what
exactly, Aaron?”

“People are talking,
that’s all.” Again he let the words drag slowly over his tongue. “We’ve both
heard the rumblings going through the town. About you know.”

“No, Aaron, I don’t
know.” The impatience clogging his throat made the words come out hard and
clipped.

“Sure you do.” Aaron
leaned forward. “Maybe she’s here because she’s the one. Timing’s right.”

Cole laughed out loud
and slapped Aaron on the shoulder. His best friend had definitely fallen into a
deep pool of crazy. “Right, and I’m the next president of the United States.
What is it about the blue moon that gets everyone’s heads thinking of legends
and folktales? I didn’t peg you for someone who believed in that sort of
thing.”

“Whatever. Just thought
you’d like to check it out.” Aaron leaned back and put his hands behind his
head. “The second full moon this month is only two days away. I can’t say it
doesn’t have everyone on edge as always, but you and I both know that’s not why
I called you.” Aaron paid for the beer the waitress delivered and waited until
she was out of earshot before speaking again. “Jesus, Cole. I’m not one of the
village idiots seeking the Holy Grail. You know I believe only half of what I
read and even less of what I hear.”