Shifters' Storm (16 page)

Rane’s mother’s body had been found about a half mile south of the cabin that anchored the area known as Wolverine. The lack of blood on the ground plus a few faint drag marks led law enforcement to conclude that Jacki had been killed elsewhere and brought to what seemed like a random location. Going under the assumption that the killer or killers had deliberately removed her from the kill spot, searchers had tried to backtrack. Unfortunately, the rain that had fallen between the time she’d gone missing and her remains were located had made that impossible.

Rane had asked Gannon why less than a day had been spent at Wolverine once Jacki’s body was located. Gannon explained, not to Rane’s satisfaction, that priority had been given to looking at potential suspects, not running his department’s only tracking dog into the ground.

The Wolverine cabin had been constructed more than forty years ago by jail prisoners under supervision of Forest Service personnel. Built without electricity and plumbing—there was a nearby outhouse—it had some insulation and a cast iron woodstove. Volunteers periodically replenished the wood supply, and plastic water containers were left outside near the door. When the water froze in winter, visitors brought the containers inside to thaw.

Watching Songan effortlessly carry a five gallon container into the cabin, she imagined her mother doing the same. Ber had a double armload of wood, something else her mother would have had to do.

After putting down the wood, Ber opened the stove and peered inside. “Hardly any ashes.”

“Mother—” Her throat seized, forcing her to wait until her muscles relaxed. “Maybe she’s responsible.”

Memories of her mother’s voice, smell and touch swamped her. Sighing, she sank into one of the two easy chairs in the compact space. A single bed was against the wall opposite the woodstove, and a small table had been placed under the only window. Thanks to the men’s sizes, she felt cramped and claustrophobic, and yet that was better than being here alone.

“Donald Cushing—he was Mom’s supervisor—told me she was a natural for her job, a true steward of the land. I loved hearing that.”

Ber, who was crumpling up newspapers left by volunteers and placing it in the stove cavity, shook his head. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

He actually thought she could turn off her mind? But even as pain enveloped her, she noted the way his jeans strained over his muscles. Sexual attraction practically screamed at her. She had to get a handle on things, she had to!

Maybe oblivious to her scrutiny, Ber added kindling and lit a match. He waited until the flames licked upward before placing several sticks on top of the kindling. When they caught fire, he added two larger logs. That done, he closed the door and slowly, gracefully stood. She marveled at his ability to get to his feet without using his hands for support.

“Now what?” she asked, feeling tense and alive.

Ber and Songan exchanged looks. “What happens is you stay here,” Songan ordered. He headed for the door. “We won’t be gone long.”

Ber started after him.

“Wait.” She reached for them, then stopped because no way could she prevent the men from doing what they wanted to. “Where are you going and what—”

“Before you start wandering around, we need to make sure it’s safe.”

Any other time, she would have stood up for herself, insist they had no right ordering her about. But these men had survived years in the wilderness. No matter how comfortable she was out-of-doors, she couldn’t hold a candle to them. Besides, they’d sensed
something
.

“How long are you going to be gone?”

Ber shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Thanks to the mountains, cell phones were useless here. Besides, neither Songan or Ber carried one. When she’d offered to get Songan one, he told her he’d bought a couple but they quit working in a few days. Apparently there was something about a shifter’s makeup that interfered with the cells’ inner workings. She’d be alone until they returned.
If
they returned.

“I hate this,” she admitted. “If I’d thought I was putting either of you in danger, I’d have never—”

“You couldn’t stop us,” Songan said.

For a good minute after they closed the door behind them, she stared at it. Then, restless and uneasy, she added more wood to the fire. After she’d turned the damper to hold in as much heat as possible, she unpacked the foodstuffs, but finally there was nothing to do except gaze out the window. Trees grew to within a few feet of the cabin and were so tall she couldn’t see the sky, not that there was anything except clouds to look at today.

As far as she knew, her mother had spent the last night of her life doing what her daughter was right now. Had Jacki been at peace or nervous, angry at her daughter or sad, resigned maybe?

Had Jacki had any hint she was in danger?

What was she thinking? Jacki had been working a bear poaching case at the time of her death. She hadn’t come to Wolverine for a vacation or because she wanted an isolated place to cuss out her damn stubborn daughter.

Don’t go there, Rane warned herself. She wasn’t a detective. Any possibilities she came up with were nothing more than conjecture. Possibilities she needed to bounce off someone else. More than one someone.

Shuddering, she pressed her cheek against the glass. It was her damnable imagination, of course, but she half believed she could feel masculine heat on the glass. Hear low male voices respond to the craziness bouncing around in her mind.

Two men. One woman. An isolated cabin. A single bed.

Need crawling over her skin and making her feel as if she might split apart.

Come back, Songan. Please Ber, come back.

Chapter Fourteen

Songan debated turning into an elk, but not only hadn’t he discussed that with Ber, he didn’t want to lose the intellect that came with being human. Granted, as an elk his senses would be keener, but he’d no longer care about Rane in a meaningful way. Animal instinct was all about self-preservation, and today her life was more important than his own.

Ber and he had circled the cabin together. He started to look to the other man for direction before remembering his longer history with Rane. The sex. Their relationship. His feelings for her.

“You feel
it
too don’t you?” Ber asked. “That’s why you told her to stay inside.”

“We aren’t alone,” he admitted. “Beyond that, I’m not sure.”

“Yet.”

“We need to split up. If humans are out there, they’ll stay near the trail, because it’s easy to get lost around here. But that’s not what we need to do.”

“They? You think there’s more than one?”

He pondered that. “Humans find courage in numbers.”

“Why? That’s what I don’t understand.”

“Don’t you?” He took notice of the difference between them. Ber was a good inch taller with broader shoulders, while his arms and legs were longer. “How much time do you spend around humans?”

“No more than I have to.”

Maybe that meant he’d walk away from Rane when she rejected him, which she had to. “I’ve watched them for years,” he explained. When there was time, he’d ask Ber what his life in Alaska had been like. “Occasionally competed with them for jobs. Humans like sharing everything that’s involved in hunting.”

“Hunt? Is that what you think they’re doing?”

Time was passing. They shouldn’t leave Rane alone any longer than necessary. “I’m not positive, but we need to think that way. I’ve survived many hunting seasons by going where they aren’t.”

“We can’t do that today.”

“No, we can’t.” Looking around, he acknowledged that the terrain in all directions looked the same. “Head into the woods left of the trail. I’ll take the right. If you see anything, howl. I’ll do the same. Something to confuse and alarm whoever’s out there, if it is someone. You know how sound like a wolf, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Ber held out his hand, and Songan took it. “Be careful.”

Be careful,
Songan kept repeating to himself as he eased between towering trees and around thick bushes. He didn’t want Ber saying that, didn’t want to care about him. At the same time, knowing the bear shifter was concerned for his safety eased his mind a little.

Rane had insisted on bringing a rifle and pistol with them, but the weapons were still in the cabin. Truth was, he hated them. Rifles killed elk, and in his heart, he was an elk. Weapons also killed bears.

Years ago he’d witnessed a trio of hunters track and kill an aging bull. Later, when he’d told the then teenage Rane what he’d seen, her eyes had teared, and she’d said she sympathized with him. At the same time, she explained that not many years ago, it had taken a committed hunter to keep himself and his family fed. There’d been no sport to the effort back when this land was being settled, only determination and necessity. Times had changed, and although she acknowledged the need for animal population control, she’d never embraced the change from necessity to sport.

They’d been naked in her bedroom with him lying face up and her straddling him so her breasts pushed into his chest every time she breathed when she’d told him that. He’d tried to pay attention to what she was saying; he always did. But they’d just fucked, and every time he caressed her naked ass, his need to do so again had grown.

“You aren’t listening to me, are you?” she’d teased. Before he could deny her accusation, she’d shifted position and reached between his legs. Claimed his cock. “No indeed, you aren’t listening, because this has your full attention. Again.”

A sudden sound stopped Songan in mid-thought. Cursing himself for letting memories of his times with Rane intrude, he peered into the shadows. A branch had broken off and landed on the ground, the pine needles still quivering. Any other time, he would have already processed that. Shoulders squared and head high, he started walking again. Told himself to say in the moment. To wait for the wilderness to give up its secrets for him.

Then the wind moaned like Rane at the end of a climax.

She was safer in the cabin than she’d be out here. Unlike he, who sometimes considered himself invincible, she was all soft body and knowing hands, a welcoming cunt. She understood him as he’d never believed any woman could, accepted him and everything he was.

Even his long absences.

Soon he’d return to her. Soon he’d walk into the heated cabin, lift her in his arms and deposit her on the bed. Silent and smiling, she’d reach up, unbutton his coat and slide it off his shoulders. Her eyes would burn hot with sex-light, and her smile would morph into a laugh as he unzipped her jeans and tugged them off her smooth, rounded hips. She’d moan—God, how she moaned when need rode her.

Embracing the sound, he’d spread her legs and bury his head between them. Suck her through her panties until her nails left grooves along his arms.

“Do me, do me, do me!” she’d beg.

Needing her to be as hungry and ready as he was, he’d rip off her panties and pin her arms to the bed. Watch her twitch, hear her desperate demands.

“Let me be a part of this!”

Shocked, Songan started to look around for whoever had spoken, only to realize it had been Ber, not human and in the flesh, but the grizzly in his imagination.

“Go ahead,”
he told the other shifter.
“Make her crazy. I’ll hold her.”

The wind was wrestling with the trees, making the tops whip about. Studying the rhythm behind seemingly random movement separated him from the task that had brought him out here. Embracing what was forming in his mind, he built one image upon another.

Rane was naked. On the bed. Arms over her head and wrists tethered to the bedposts with white rope. A shifter standing on either side of her. Apprehension warred with anticipation as she looked from Ber to him. Bending her knees, she twisted her lower body about. Her nipples were so tight he knew they hurt. Wondering if it was possible to tap into what she was feeling, he bent over his captive—his and the other shifter’s—and closed his lips around a hard
nub.

“Oh shit. Shit!” Rane gasped
.

“Quiet!” Ber planted his hand over her mouth. Bringing his face to within inches of hers, the bear shifter swiped a wet tongue along the side of her nose. She tried to turn her head aside, but Ber clamped onto her hair and stopped her. In contrast to her immobile upper body, her hips thrashed.

Taking his time, Songan released her nipple and straightened. Only then did he realize he was as naked as his prisoner. Ber also wore nothing.

Smelling Rane’s arousal, he tested the limits of her self-restraint by lightly trailing his forefinger over both areolas. Eyes widening, she mumbled something into Ber’s silencing hand.

Still circling her quivering flesh, he flicked a glance at Ber. The bear shifter met his hot gaze with a like one.

“She’s ours,” Ber muttered. “Ours to do what we want with her.”

“Finally. I’ve waited so long for this.” He’d had no idea he’d been going to say that.

But why not? Sex with Rane had always skated the edges of sanity. Somehow he’d kept himself in check. Denied the rutting beast. The effort had taken its toll, weakened him and left him vulnerable to the animal beneath the human surface.

Not caring what Ber did, he positioned himself at the end of the bed and captured Rane’s ankles. Even before he started to draw her legs apart, her scent seeped into his veins. She didn’t fight him. Neither did she try to speak around Ber’s hand. Much as he needed to understand what lay behind her silence, that would have to wait.

Wait until he’d slid his hands under her buttocks and lifted her off the bed. Wait until after—long after—he’d leaned over her.

Her legs opened, knees bending out, sex exposed.

Crazed, he lapped at her there. Lapped again. Drunk on her offering, he slid his tongue into the heated cave. One hand pressed against her mons. He clutched his cock with the other. Couldn’t see, couldn’t hear.

His curled tongue touched the top of her sex, causing her to buck against him. Ber’s growl was more vibration than sound. Yet even as own his body shuddered, he forced himself to lift his head and study the other man.