by Elle Thorne
Braden shook his head. He didn’t want to be rude, but hadn’t he already made it clear that he didn’t want to discuss this? “That’s not really a story I feel like recounting.”
“I understand you don’t want to talk about how you got them,” Doc countered. “But would you like to explain why they keep flaring up, and looking like they’re new? And then they heal, only to reappear again? This happened several times when you were unconscious.”
He shrugged. “I wish I knew.”
“Mind if I take a look?” Griz stepped closer.
Braden studied the grizzly bear shifter, what with his large scar that ran the distance of his face, maybe he would understand. “Sure. Go ahead.” He raised his shirt.
Griz eyeballed the scars, moving from one to another without touching. Finally, he looked up at Ciara. “Got any ideas?”
Ciara nodded. “I’ve seen this once before.” She turned her attention to Braden. “When did you get the scars? Or rather, where?”
Just what he did not want to discuss. The more Braden thought about it, the more his mind dwelled on it, the worse they became every night, when they transformed into angry lacerations and burns.
“I can’t help you, if you won’t discuss them with me,” Ciara said.
“I was a POW in the Middle East. I was tortured by a bunch of bastards that wanted to know more about my unit.”
“What can you tell me about the people who did this to you?”
“You have an idea, don’t you?” Griz said to Ciara.
“That depends.” She looked back at Braden. “Anything you can tell me about them will be helpful.”
“I have no idea. It’s like they scrubbed my memory clean in certain parts. But I have a full recollection of what they put me through. It’s still so vivid, that I feel the burns as strongly as I did when they inflicted them. And they come back, as if they were freshly made.”
“You can’t remember the men at all?”
“They wore masks. They weren’t all Middle Eastern. One had the brightest bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.”
The scars began to sear his flesh. Braden briefly closed his eyes against the pain, only to be met with a memory that he’d pushed so far away, he was startled it had reemerged. He pushed it back again.
Ciara chewed on her bottom lip. “What about medicine?”
“They gave me an injection.”
Wait a second.
Braden stared into Ciara’s face. “His eyes.” Why didn’t I see it before? “They’re just like yours.”
Ciara nodded.
That nod bothered him. She wasn’t surprised. “You know something. Don’t you?” Fury began its rise at the idea there were answers, but no one was telling him what they were.
She didn’t respond to Braden’s question, but rather looked at Griz.
Griz nodded. “I wondered as much.”
Anger blossomed stronger in Braden. What the hell weren’t they telling him? “Anybody want to fill me in?”
“He’s an Intuitive,” Griz said.
He, Braden thought. He, the one with the light eyes that burned him. He pointed to Ciara. “Like her.”
Ciara gasped. “Nothing like me!” Her pale cheeks reddened with anger. “He’s not an Intuitive. He’s a Counter Intuitive.” Two large tears escaped from white eyelashes and cascaded down her face. “And he’s my brother.”
Griz wrapped his arm around her. “The path he has chosen is not your fault. If he is going to practice evil, you cannot take responsibility for it.”
“No. But I can try to stop it. To stop him.”
Griz shook his head. “There’s only one way to stop him.”
More tears joined the others on Ciara’s face. She sniffed and wipe them away with the suddenness that spoke of a finality.
Braden knew all about sibling issues, he’d seen that with his nephew Bain and his brother Vey.
“I can reverse this so it stops happening,” she told Braden.
He opened his mouth to ask her a question, but didn’t get too far. The sound of thunder and a crash followed by a piercing scream interrupted anything he was going to say, and every thought he had.
The scream came from the room that contained Dakotah and the baby.
Braden leapt into action, springing for the door behind which they were. Closely on his heels came the others.
He flung the door open, and beheld a screaming Dakotah in the corner clutching a wailing Larsen to her chest.
The double door that led to the veranda was missing its panes, and shattered glass covered the wooden floor.
Braden looked from Dakotah to the window then back to Dakotah, and wondered how the window was broken, and why she was still screaming about it.
He didn’t have to wonder long.
A bolt of lightning flew through the window, and with eerie precision, struck the flooring next to Dakotah’s feet. The wood split, leaving a gash, and blackened edges from which smoke rose.
“What the hell?” Braden crossed the distance between them swiftly and put his arm around Dakotah to escort her from the room.
He wondered if baby Larsen was responsible for these unnatural acts of nature.
A large tan figure with a hint of black moved so quickly before Braden, it was almost a blur. The figure had leapt through the window and alit in front of Braden and Dakotah, head thrown back in a mighty roar.
It was the largest male lion Braden had ever seen. A tawny gold color topped with an ebony mane glared at Braden.
Morphing almost as swiftly or maybe even more swiftly than Braden did with the most minimal of sounds as if the shifter practiced his skills, the lion became a man.
He was a tall man with yellow eyes that glittered as if made of crystals, ebony hair flowed to his shoulders, and skin the color of highly polished oak.
Braden knew immediately this had to be the one Dakotah had mentioned earlier. Chad something-or-other.
“I want my son,” the man said between tightly clenched jaws.
The air sizzled and crackled, popping sounds that made Larsen cry.
“Make him stop,” the man said.
“He’s not your son.” Dakotah’s voice was firm. “And he’s a baby. You can’t just turn him off. You’re scaring him.”
The man tipped his head to the side, raised his hands palms out. He dropped them swiftly, and a bolt of lightning followed, striking the nightstand, splitting it in half. A wisp of smoke rose from each half of the severed furniture.
“Don’t threaten her.” Braden stepped between the lion shifter and Dakotah.
“And you think you have a say in this?” The shifter snapped his fingers and from nowhere, accompanied by a sizzling hiss as a warning sign, a bolt of lightning slashed across Braden’s arm.
Braden looked down, surprised to see a deep wound had been seared by the heat of the shifter’s electricity.
Deep inside, Braden’s bear roared, and fought to escape and morph in order to kill the intruder. Despite the pain, Braden maintained control of his bear, pushing his other half back, though he did not know why.
“What the hell is going on here?” Griz stepped forward.
Another finger snap, and then another, and the lion shifter had raised a fence around Dakotah made of pure electricity. Lethal, the fence sizzled a perpetual warning.
“He’s an electric elemental,” Mae said. “Very dangerous.”
“It’s nice to be recognized for what I am,” the lion shifter threw his head back, releasing a roar. It was as if his animal was bursting to come through, so inhuman was his sound. “No harm will come to any of you if you release my son into my care.”
Behind the crackling sizzling electric fence that rose above her head, Dakotah’s eyes widened. “Never.”
“Silly human. Silly, silly mortal human.” The lion shifter laughed. He turned to face Braden, Griz, and the rest of the shifters. “You will lose to my elemental.”
In the near distance, a rumble of thunder sounded.
The lion shifter smiled with delight. “My son. My son is making his presence known.”
“Not quite.” Mae’s eyes flashed, brown merging with indigo undulating rich hues, forewarning those who knew.
“Oh, you are—” the lion shifter started to say, but was interrupted.
Mae raised her arms to the ceiling, made a symbol with her fingers, then dropped them swiftly. A large spear of ice formed from thin air and travel swiftly through the room, embedding itself in the lion shifter’s shoulder.
The lion roared. “You bitch!” Blood bloomed around the wound, soaking the shifter’s shirt.
“Be careful who you’re calling a bitch,” Doc grated between gritted teeth.
“Oh, and is the grizzly shifter going to hurt the big bad lion shifter?” The shifter smiled, his expression looking more like a grimace.
“He’s not alone.” Griz stepped into the room.
“He’s an electric elemental,” Mae cautioned them. “Very powerful.”
“More powerful than your elemental.” The lion shifter laughed, the sound more like the crackling of distant electrical surges. Blood was seeping through the wound created by Mae’s lance of ice as it melted.
He raised his hand, the electricity fence surrounding Dakotah dropped as he flicked his fingers toward Doc.
A bolt of electricity flew through the air, shimmering pure energy, coursing through the room, and then sliced into Doc’s arm.
Doc grabbed his arm, a hiss of pain escaping his lips.
Mae gasped.
Chapter Fourteen
Dakotah flinched as the bolt Chad cast must have caused the fence to drop.
She bit back the scream at the sight of blood pouring out of the cut Chad had delivered to Doc’s arm.
She chewed on her bottom lip at the horror before her. A horror she’d brought to these good people.
She looked down at Larsen’s sweet face, calm now, in the face of the storm, feeling as if he were secure in the arms of his mother.
God, if only that were true.
She had to get Larsen away.
She’d brought death and horror to everyone here and she had to get away before they were all dead. The best thing she could do was leave before Chad killed her newfound friends. With a glance of regret at Braden, and a hope that she would find understanding and forgiveness in his eyes, she slipped around Chad, clutching Larsen tightly to her chest, she exited the door as Griz was shifting into a large grizzly and Braden was shifting to a polar bear. Doc was quick to follow, and now the room was full of three snarling bears and a growling lion.
She ran out the bedroom door, then out the front door, leaving the chaos behind.
Outside, she found none of the vehicles had keys in them and she’d be damned if she’d take Larsen back inside to find keys.
She dashed toward the wooded area, hurling herself into cover of the trees, Larsen held closely to her body.
Chapter Fifteen
The speed with which the shifters moved would have been frightening to a human not accustomed to these types of display of power.
Hell, Braden thought, as he moved toward the lion shifter, I’m a shifter and still find the scene overwhelming.
Within moments, amongst the gnashing of teeth, the flash of lightning, ice bolts, and slashing claws, the fight was over.
Braden surveyed the scene before him. The lion shifter was dead. A feat he’d thought impossible, and one he was sure none of them could have done alone.
Griz was on the floor, in his human form, leg slashed by a bolt of lightning the lion shifter elemental had cast at him.
Mae was across the room, bandaging Doc’s arm.
Doc was shrugging her off, telling her, “Go take care of Griz. Mine’s a flesh wound.”
Griz laughed it off, but Braden could see the pain in his eyes.
Braden could relate to that pain. He hadn’t said anything, but a steady stream of blood was making its way down his body. He recognized that he was bleeding way too heavily. Years of military service in the war-torn Middle East—yeah, he knew he was in jeopardy.
But something else was at the top of his mind. “Dakotah.”
Mae was walking toward Griz when she looked Braden’s way. “She slipped out, I saw her. Probably hiding with Larsen in the other room. I’m sure she didn’t want him to be in the middle of this carnage.”
Braden knew Mae was wrong. He couldn’t feel her. “No. She’s not in the building. She’s gone.”
And with that, he collapsed.
Chapter Sixteen
The sound of a branch snapping made Dakotah flinch.
Dakotah was hiding in a large hollowed out area in a huge tree with bushes to serve as camouflage. She had been here for what seemed like forever, holding little Larsen.
When she’d first settled herself and the baby into their hiding place, he had begun to cry. Hunger, she surmised, and nursed him quickly. He had now fallen into a sleep, his face innocent, and uncomprehending of the danger they’d been in.
The sound of the branches snapping came once more.
Dakotah trembled.
She tried not to squeeze little Larsen too tightly, for fear of making him cry out. Something was approaching.
Or someone.
Chad. And he would take Larsen from her. Tears of anger burned in her eyes, the tiny pricks of pain like having minuscule drops of acid behind her lids. She squeezed them shut, and tried to keep her breathing quiet.
Who am I kidding? He’s a shifter. He will be able to hear me.
“Dakotah.”
She paused. It took a moment for the thought to process. That was not Chad’s voice. Another second, and she recognized Doc’s voice.
It had to be Doc, right?
An irrational fear made her think that maybe it was Chad, and he had somehow disguised his voice, making himself sound like Doc.
Don’t be silly, she chastised herself.
“Dakotah.” Doc’s voice again. “He’s dead. You’re safe.”
For a split second, Dakotah’s heart sunk, as she first thought he meant Braden. Of course, he didn’t, he was speaking of Chad.
“We’re here, Doc.” Was that her own voice, sounding so small?
The sound of bushes shaking heralded the visage of Doc’s handsome face, reassuring and strong, blocking the forest light.
“Chad’s…” She almost couldn’t bring herself to speak it out loud, to believe it. “He’s dead?”
Doc nodded. He held out his hands for her to hand him Larsen so she could crawl out of the area. Taking the baby, he scanned it quickly to make sure it was okay while she slipped out of the hiding place.
“And everyone else? How are they?” She held her breath, unsure if she was ready to receive bad news.
“Griz was hurt, Braden too.”
She gasped. “But they’re okay, right?”
“They should be.”
Chapter Seventeen
Dakotah stepped into Mae and Doc’s home, until yesterday had looked like a normal home, that now look like a war zone.
It seemed as if every shapeshifter in Bear Canyon Valley had been called in. So many people. She held onto baby Larsen, not sure if she was making him feel more secure, or herself. At least, she no longer felt the fear she felt around the shapeshifters before. Just as it was with people, there were good shifters and there were bad ones.
Mae ran forward. “How are you?” Her eyes scanned Dakotah and then the baby as if looking to find if either had been harmed. “Where were you? We were so worried.”
Dakotah let out a breath, slow and ragged. “I had to take the baby and go. I couldn’t let Chad get him. I just couldn’t.”
Mae nodded. “Doc told you the danger is passed?”
Dakotah wasn’t sure she would ever believe any of the dangers that shifters seemed to live with would ever truly pass. And now her life’s mission was to make sure Larsen wasn’t put in the path of danger.
“Braden?” She
hesitated not sure how much to give away of the emotions swirling within her like a whirlpool. More like a tornado. “He is okay?”
“He’s in his bear form in the back,” Mae said. She put a hand on Dakotah’s arm. “I know you’ve had a rough time with shifters, but would you want to see him? He’s not conscious.”
Dakotah gasped. Not conscious? “How badly was he hurt?”
“We didn’t know at first. He didn’t say anything until he collapsed. And then his bear took over, shifting so he could heal. He lost a lot of blood.”
“I would like to see him.”
* * *
Braden was in a large room that could have doubled for something in a large animal vet clinic. He was on a pallet, the same large polar bear she’d seen the time she’d shot him. Dakotah sat on the pallet next to him, her arm against his mighty shoulder. She didn’t fear him at all.
The emotions she felt, though, she didn’t want to put a name to. She studied his majestic bear profile and dug her fingers into his luxurious fur. Then she looked at Larsen.
“When will you shift, little man? What will you look like? And what about this elemental thing? How will you manage?” She sighed. “How in the world will I manage?”
“You’ll find a way.”
She flinched at the sound of the unexpected voice. “Griz. I thought I was alone.”
“I came to check on you. And my godson.” He gazed down at Larsen with fondness in his eyes.
“Thank you,” she said. “You saved his life. More than once.”
“It’s my life’s mission, my passion, even, to care for other shifters.”
Dakotah smiled. “Just how many godsons do you have, Griz?”
“Officially?” His dark eyes twinkled. “Just one.” He placed one large palm on Larsen’s forehead. “But I have three nephews, and more unofficial charges than I could count on both hands.”
Dakotah didn’t find that hard to believe. Not at all. It was easy to see from this man’s demeanor that he did have a passion for protection.
