Zander gave the sword a grim look before he steered the boat north to the coordinates he needed. He knew the sword had been playing with them when it had flown out of Rae’s hand and plunged into the sea. He’d felt a tingle when he’d grabbed it, as though the hunk of metal had been laughing at him. It seriously needed to get over itself.
Rae had her arms folded again and had hunched into herself. She looked out across the water but wasn’t truly looking at it—her eyes were empty.
Zander’s anger surged. What the hell was the Goddess thinking, putting her finger on this young woman who should be laughing with her friends, and chasing male Shifters and making them crazy? Why the hell did the Lupine demand she dust his father—Rae, who was barely more than a cub? The Lupine was as furious as Zander but for different reasons. He didn’t want a female Guardian, didn’t want Rae, but realized he didn’t have a choice.
Fucking Lupines, fucking Shifters. The heat of Rae’s breath lingered on his lips—the nearness of her had crackled the air between them. Her touch and the taste of her fingers had fanned the sparks that had ignited in him when she’d first come on board.
Zander pushed the boat faster. He had plenty of fuel—he never went beyond the distance his capacity could take him. The sooner they got this done, the better. Then Rae could go back to being sassy and in his face, and laughter would light up her eyes.
How many times would this happen, though? Rae’s entire life would be like this, her heart plummeting every time the phone rang, every call maybe being a Shifter who needed a Guardian. She’d face sadness, grief, Shifters avoiding her because her presence meant death.
Sweet Little Wolf didn’t need that. Why the hell hadn’t her father simply pretended the Goddess hadn’t chosen, sent Rae to the ends of the earth, and tried again?
Wouldn’t have worked, and Zander knew it. When the Goddess chose, you either obeyed or you went insane. Zander was trying for both.
The vessel began speeding over the tops of the waves and Rae grabbed hold of the bench. The boat flew into the air and slapped back down on the water, flew and slapped.
“Do you get seasick?” Zander called to Rae over the noise.
“I don’t know.” She wouldn’t let go of the bench. “Not so far.”
“Come and sit next to me.” Zander pointed to the padded copilot’s chair next to his, both seats built large for his bulk. “I’ll teach you to navigate. Who knows when I’ll be passed out and you’ll need to drive?”
Rae gave him a dark look. She squared her shoulders, pushed herself to her feet, grabbed the sword, and lurched the few steps to the second chair. The sword clattered to the deck when she grabbed the back of the swiveling chair to steady herself.
Zander said nothing as she dragged herself around the chair and into it. Her jaw was clenched tight, to keep her teeth from chattering, Zander guessed. Rae gripped the edge of the dashboard, peering out through the windows at the land coming at them.
Zander had told her he was out in the middle of nowhere, but that wasn’t exactly the case. The mountains of Kodiak Island rose sharply to their left, the crags of the Kenai stretched in the distance to their right. Zander guided the boat around the headland, making for Homer.
It was a fine early summer day, sun high, clouds inland but not over the sea, and not too much wind. Perfect for boating, fishing, napping—not for rushing to a dire errand.
Zander heaved himself out of the captain’s chair. “Take the wheel.”
Rae jerked her head around. “What?”
“Take the wheel. I told you I was going to teach you how to pilot this thing.”
“You said navigate.”
“They go together. Sit.”
Rae dragged in a breath then launched herself from one chair and landed in the other. Zander calmly seated himself where she’d vacated and pointed at the readouts.
“This is how fast we’re going—about twenty-five knots. My boat will go a little over thirty but that eats up fuel and is hard on the engine. This is where we are; here’s depth beneath us and the distance to land around us. Don’t hit anything.”
Rae shot him a glare. She gripped the wheel tightly at first but in a few minutes, she loosened her hold as she felt the boat under her like a living, breathing thing, as Zander always did. Sailing was as much about surrendering to the boat and its every sensation as it was checking numbers.
The color returned to Rae’s face as she concentrated on following his instructions. As Zander hoped, the distraction of running the vessel, of staying away from rocks or other fishing boats out for Alaska’s bounty, helped calm her fears.
Boat traffic increased the closer they got to the town, including ships bringing loads of tourists to gawk at how people lived in cold country. But mostly those tourists came for the beauty—high volcanic mountains, blue waters, tall glaciers, and amazing scenery that Zander had only found in this place on earth.
He could see that Rae found it beautiful too. She gazed, enraptured, at the narrow waterway, the blue sea between cliffs and mountains. Zander wished he were showing the wilds to her in better circumstances. But maybe, once they’d finished this task, they could sail leisurely to the fjords, where they could linger in the sapphire blue harbors and contemplate the amazing beauty of land and ice.
He’d take her ashore to explore the wilderness. Not many roads traversed the best places on the Alaskan Peninsula, but as Shifters, they didn’t need to worry about roads. A wolf and a polar bear could run where humans could not.
The long spit of land that ran from Homer into the bay came into sight—the longest natural spit in the world, or something like that. Tall mountains, sharp today in the clear air, were its backdrop.
Zander let Rae steer the boat all the way into the marina, showing her how to slow, how to turn. He raised his hand to other boaters as he passed, recognizing most of them. The fishermen acknowledged him—he’d be a dim figure through the window to them at the moment but everyone knew Zander’s bulk, not to mention his fifty-eight-foot craft.
Rae was a natural. She made every careful turn as Zander slowed their speed. The marina was active today—on such a beautiful afternoon fishermen, tourists, and locals were out enjoying the water and the weather.
“Time to cover up,” Zander said to Rae, as he took the wheel for the final docking. “Find a hoodie or something in my cupboards. We don’t need anyone seeing your Collar.”
Eoin had broken about ten laws bringing Rae to Zander, and they both knew it. Didn’t matter so much out on the water but now they were in a human town, with human police.
Rae’s worried look returned as she nodded, but she took up the sword and quickly went below. They’d have to disguise that too.
Zander’s engine barely murmured as he pulled into the slip he leased. The advantage of not wearing a Collar was that he could do human things like rent space for his boat—buy a boat at all. Really what had Collars done for Shifters?
Rae came topside again. She’d found one of his flannel shirts and a jacket, both of which were big enough to hide her neck. They’d be too warm for this time of year but Zander would explain to his acquaintances if necessary that she came from the lower forty-eight. They’d laugh. Non-Alaskans had a hard time with even a mild Alaskan summer.
The engine went silent. Zander left the wheelhouse to tie off, and the two fishermen in the next boat spotted him.
“Zander!” one yelled.
“Where you been, man?” the other said almost on top of the first man’s word.
“Out.” Zander stepped over the rail to the dock to secure the lines. “Fishing.”
The two men sitting on their deck, a beer cooler between them, made a show of looking over the stern of his boat. “Where’s the fish?” the first man asked.
“Ate ’em,” Zander said, not glancing up from his task. “I was hungry.”
The men laughed. They were good guys who liked to fish, drink beer, and talk about how hard-ass their wives were, whom they a
dored in truth.
Rae peered out from the pilot house. Zander beckoned to her—might as well. People had to see her sometime.
The men on the next boat stopped in mid-laugh as Rae walked out to the deck. They took in her curved body, which the lumpy shirt and coat couldn’t hide, her dark hair, and her unforgettable eyes. They gaped, and Zander felt a surge of pride. Eat your hearts out, my friends.
The second man cleared his throat. “Fishing, eh?”
“Yep.” Zander let himself grin. “Caught me a beauty. Rae, come and meet the boys.”
Rae was shy—how could she help it, having been buried in Shiftertown all her life? Zander had told her he’d show her the world and suddenly he had a great longing to do it. Right now. Take her away from what she had to face and present to her the wonders of life. He wanted to see the wan look gone, the sparkle return to her eyes, the laughter to her voice.
She had grit though. When Zander held out his arm, Rae stepped onto the deck, her head high, and let Zander pull her against him. She looked straight at the men on the other boat and said “Hello” in a friendly voice.
The men’s surprise returned and their leers went away. They recognized, in the way humans seemed to, that Rae was a “nice” young woman, not a hook-up.
“Hello,” the two men said, less certainly.
“Rae, that’s Tanner and that’s Johnny. They’re losers who hang out here when they have perfectly good homes to go to. This is Rae. A friend.”
Johnny and Tanner grinned and waved. “Hi, Rae,” they said at the same time.
Zander liked having Rae in the circle of his arm. “Ready to go, sweetheart?”
“Sure,” Rae said. She was rigid in his half embrace but she looked up at him and gave him a perfectly believable smile.
Zander drew her back into the pilot house, where she’d left the sword. He’d had an idea how to disguise it, and now he zipped it into a long fishing-rod case. The case was a little bit short but he wrapped a piece of canvas over the top, hiding the hilt. Now if the damn thing would stop humming.
Humans couldn’t hear it, he was pretty sure. Zander could hear the sword and Rae could, from the scowls she kept shooting it. Humans, though, were usually oblivious to Goddess magic.
Rae reached for the case but Zander turned from her and slung it over his shoulder. If she took it, Johnny and Tanner and other humans would wonder why he was making his woman tote his gear.
Zander led Rae out onto the deck again, closing and locking the cabin and the pilot house, shutting down the power. Johnny and Tanner lifted beer cans in salute as Zander stepped off the boat and helped Rae to the deck. Zander knew they’d make sure anyone who wasn’t supposed to come to the boat kept away.
Rae wobbled a little, getting used to unmoving land after a day and night at sea. Zander felt a little rubbery himself but he knew he’d be over it by the time they reached their destination.
They had to drive. The Shifters who’d called lived inland between here and Anchorage. Beautiful country but their place was hard to reach.
Zander kept a pickup at the docks. The one road from the marina would take them into town and from there they’d ride into wild country. On the other side of the mountains that split the peninsula were the fjords, jagged folds of land that were both beautiful and deadly.
Zander had to stop and greet other men and women who were either heading out to fish or heading home. He hadn’t realized he knew so many people but they all seemed to be around today.
Finally they were at the truck, a hefty 350. Zander opened the door for Rae to get in, earning a puzzled look, but she went along with it. Shifters weren’t supposed to let their females enter a building, vehicle, or wherever first, in case there was danger.
Zander boosted Rae in, giving her a nod that acknowledged he understood her confusion. Then he went around to the driver’s side, sliding the sword from his shoulder and laying it across the seat, the hilt resting on Rae’s lap.
He climbed in and started up, waved at more acquaintances, then he was driving out of the lot and up the narrow road toward the main town.
Rae looked around, her balled hands easing open as she took in the scene. Sunlight danced on the waves on either side of the narrow isthmus, turning the long sands golden and brushing the black green of the woods in the distance.
“It’s beautiful here,” Rae said. “I understand why you like it.”
“When it’s not freezing, wet, drizzly, snowy, or windy as hell, sure,” Zander said, concentrating on the road. “Not to mention earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and huge chunks of ice threatening to fall on you all the time. This is Nature’s place. She barely tolerates humans—or Shifters—living here.”
“Isn’t what humans call Mother Nature our Goddess?”
“Probably.” Zander shrugged. They reached the mainland and he navigated through town, then drove out the other side, back to open country. “I’d like to think the Goddess doesn’t get as pissed off as Nature seems to,” Zander said as he peered down the road. “But yeah, when it’s not trying to kill you, Alaska can be the best place on earth.”
Rae was studying him with those penetrating gray eyes. Many, many thoughts went on behind them—Zander was pretty sure that the Felines she’d been living with had never understood the depths of the Lupine they’d taken in.
Wolves could be taciturn, giving you their level stare, while behind those eyes they were planning world domination . . . or maybe the best way to hole up and take a nap. You could never be sure. Zander was the largest land predator on earth and still, Rae’s wolf gaze unnerved him.
“What?” he asked in irritation.
“You’re not from Alaska,” Rae said. “Eoin learned all about you from Dylan, in the Austin Shiftertown. You’re from the Shetland Islands and you were living in Texas most of this spring.”
“So? Doesn’t mean I don’t like it here.” Zander took a tighter grip of the wheel. “I’ve traveled quite a bit over the years and this is a good place. Besides, if I want to run around as a polar bear and someone sees me, it’s not a huge shocker. I just make sure I’m someplace remote so they don’t tranq me and drive me back to the ice floes.”
“Then why were you in Texas?”
Zander understood that she was asking about him to keep her mind off what was to come. He didn’t like to talk about everything he’d done in Texas but she needed the distraction. “A Shifter there truly needed me. I helped him, then Dylan asked me to stick around in case I was needed again. I hung out there for a while, then decided I needed to get away from Shiftertowns and remember what it’s like to be on my own. So I came back here.”
He left out a lot with this explanation. From her look, Rae picked up that fact but she didn’t pursue it. One day, maybe, he’d tell her the whole tale, like why he’d moved to Homer instead of back to his trailer in the woods north of Anchorage.
Zander turned off the highway once they reached Anchor Point and took narrow and winding roads inland.
Rae fell silent as they traveled away from the sea through a flat plain studded with evergreens, open fields rolling away from the road, the stark mountains rising to the east. Rae looked around curiously but they didn’t speak, the weight of what they’d find at the end of the road pressing on them.
Zander slowed for the town of Nikolaevsk, a tiny community built by Russians in the 1960s. These Russians were called “Old Believers” who’d resisted changes in the Russian Orthodox services several centuries before, or so Zander’s friend Piotr Ivanov, who lived here and fished out of Homer, had told him. The onion-shaped dome of the church rose over the small cluster of the town’s buildings, and residents were walking about on errands on this pleasant day.
A man whose wife wore a long skirt and head scarf in the Russian way, their son in jeans and a light jacket, spied Zander and raised his hand.
“Hey, Moncrieff!” he called.
Zander waved back without slowing. He knew Piotr would ask him when they met up
again why he’d simply driven through without stopping for a chat and a drink. For now, Zander drove out of town and into a remoter area, heading for the mountains.
Rae was watching him again. “Do you know everyone in Alaska?”
Zander considered. “Well, I know at least one person in every part of it, so, maybe.”
“And they know you’re Shifter?”
“Some do, some don’t. Piotr there does but he doesn’t say anything. The people in Nikolaevsk like their privacy—they’re not going to call Shifter Bureau to come poking around. Piotr’s family ended up here after fleeing Siberia then China, though they lived in Oregon for a while.”
Rae looked around at the barren uplands and the rising mountains. “So isolated.”
“Right, because western Montana isn’t.” Zander chuckled. “There are a couple of clumps of Shifters out here, small families only, and they don’t show themselves much.”
Rae gave him a look that told him nothing and returned to watching the scenery.
Not long later, Zander took a dirt road into the heart of the wild country and pulled to a halt next to a bridgeless river.
He stopped the truck. “Come on,” he said when Rae glanced around. “We’re here.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Rae never in her wildest dreams thought she’d end up deep in the middle of nowhere in Alaska, outside a town where everyone spoke Russian, following a polar bear to a hidden cluster of Shifters.
She’d never have believed she’d be carrying the Sword of the Guardian on her back in a case designed for a fishing rod, trusting an eccentric Shifter healer to find a house and then get her back to civilization. This had to be a nightmare of unimaginable proportions.
Zander kept a swift pace, unceasing and determined. There was no true path, and trees everywhere. While Rae was used to woods, these seemed to spread out in all directions without pattern. The ground was dry and hard, the undergrowth minimal.
Zander hiked without worry. His broad back filled out his duster coat, which swirled around his boots with his even stride. Rae had to trot to keep up with him.
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