She knew in her heart that this was a situation Eoin would have no answer for. For the first time in her life, Rae couldn’t turn to him for help.
The best solution seemed to be to remain here, comforting Zander as he lay in quiet torment. Ezra looked up again after a time, wiping his eyes, but he made no move to rise.
“Is he all right?” Ezra called to her, his voice thick with tears.
“I don’t know.” Rae stroked Zander’s fur. “Are you all right, Zander? Tell me how to help you.”
Zander lifted his head. He heaved his body until he lay on his belly, which dislodged her from him. Rae came to a cross-legged position, her hands moving to his back. Zander swung around and nuzzled her. His nose was cold and very wet.
“Yuck,” Rae said softly.
Zander rumbled, sounding very much like he did when he laughed as a human. The pain began to fade from his eyes, the sparkle returning.
Zander gave another growl, then he slowly began to shift back to human while remaining on his stomach. Fur receded under Rae’s hands until she rested them on the smooth, warm skin of his human back.
She couldn’t avert her gaze this time. The linked tattoo just above his buttocks beckoned her touch and she let her fingers drift across it.
Zander jumped. He rolled over and climbed to his feet in one move, which put his goods right before her eyes.
He was a well-endowed man indeed. Shifters didn’t always hide themselves after they shifted, which meant Rae had seen plenty of bare male bodies in her time. However, the Felines and Lupines of the Montana Shiftertown would wish they had what Zander had. Zander was bear and, of course, everything about bears was supersized.
A sinewy hand came down to grab Rae’s softer one and haul her to his feet. Zander pulled her close for a brief moment, strong arms around her.
“Thank you, Rae,” he said softly.
“No problem,” Rae answered, her voice shaking.
Zander held her a moment longer, his bare body the length of hers, she against the firm, flat plane of his chest. Though Zander’s strength had returned, he breathed a faint sigh into her ear, as though he wouldn’t quickly forget his pain.
He at last released Rae, pressed a brief kiss to the top of her head, then bent to retrieve his clothes.
“Ezra, your dad was a brave man,” Zander said as he skimmed his sleeveless shirt down his body. Rae, behind him, couldn’t look away from the picture he made—loose shirt baring his arms, his firm ass below it, the shirt’s hem brushing the links of the tattoo.
“He was in much more pain than we thought,” Zander went on as he grabbed his underwear, then his jeans, hiding himself once more. “Your dad had been holding it together until Rae could get here, but he kept his pain from you so he wouldn’t upset you.”
Ezra frowned but all his belligerence had evaporated. “How do you know that?”
Zander shrugged. “It’s a healer thing. Trust me. He needed to go but he didn’t want to leave you worrying about him.”
Ezra’s eyes moistened again. “The old fool.”
Zander buckled his belt and sat down on the porch steps to shove his feet into his boots. “We’ll honor him with fire to the Goddess,” Zander said, patting Ezra’s foot next to him. “But right now, I say we all go into town and get pissing drunk.”
* * *
Zander liked Rae squashed against him in the cab of his truck as he drove back down the long, empty road toward civilization. Ezra sat on Rae’s other side, still grieving, but Zander could tell he was relieved that his dad was in the Summerland and that he’d gone free of pain.
The old coot had hidden a lot from his son, Zander had realized as soon as he’d touched Robert’s side. He’d understood exactly how strong the dying wolf had been.
Rae had been scared out of her mind but damned if she hadn’t stepped up and done her job. She could easily have thrown down the sword and fled, running off through the woods and driving away in Zander’s truck, stranding them. He’d left the keys in the ignition—who was going to steal it out here, a moose?
But no, Rae had lifted her chin, hefted the sword that was too big for her, and become the Guardian. You go, Little Wolf.
Even afterward, Rae hadn’t collapsed into a puddle of goo—she’d gotten Zander out of the house so he could go bear without breaking the furniture. She’d stayed with him as he’d suffered the consequences of his healing gift, soothing him with her touch and her presence.
Rae now stared down the road as they came out of the trees, back to the flattish plain. She said nothing as they slowed to drive through Nikolaevsk and then head into empty country again. Her face was frozen, her pupils pinpricks. Reaction was setting in, and shock. Zander needed to get her somewhere he could pour alcohol into her—after that he’d carry her home and put her to bed.
“Hitchhiker,” Ezra grunted. He motioned ahead of them to a bulk of a man walking down the side of the road.
“Piotr,” Zander said.
Rae blinked, coming out of her daze. “What?”
“Not a hitchhiker,” Zander clarified. “Piotr Ivanov.” Zander slowed the truck as he approached the man, now minus wife and son. “Hey, my friend. Need a lift?”
Piotr’s blue eyes lit up under his red hair. He was tucked into a light coat against the wind, a bright red thing against the green and brown landscape.
“Be grateful,” he said cheerfully. “Off to check the boat, I am. My good-for-nothing brother is not careful with it.” Piotr was second-generation of his transplanted Russian community, but while he spoke English perfectly, he would fall back into a thick accent and stilted sentences when it suited him.
“Zander’s taxi, at your service.” Zander grinned at him and waved his arm to the truck’s bed. “Hop in.”
Piotr made himself comfortable in the back and Zander drove on through the couple dozen miles to Anchor Point and around into Homer.
After the quiet of the open country, Homer seemed a jumping place. It was nine in the evening but the sun was still high and people were out to enjoy the lingering daylight.
Zander took Piotr to his fishing boat at the head of the marina but he didn’t drive away, hopping out to assist Piotr with the boat. Piotr was right to be concerned about his brother-in-law’s competence—the man truly didn’t know what he was doing sometimes. Ezra and Rae remained in the truck, both of them silent and subdued, not questioning Zander’s need to help his friend.
While Zander’s boat was for sport fishing, Piotr had the real thing—a trawler with nets and cranes. It smelled like the real thing too, all fish and diesel. Zander helped him make sure the vessel was secure, then they both piled back into the truck and headed into town to Zander’s favorite bar.
Not long later, they sat in a row on barstools at Hank’s Tavern—Ezra, then Piotr, Zander, and Rae at the end, the sword in the fishing-rod case at her feet. Rae’s high-necked shirt hid her Collar, and Collarless Ezra was bright enough to hunker down and keep his Shifter nature to himself.
Zander blessed the Goddess for sending Piotr walking down the road at the moment he did. No one could relax like Piotr when the work was done, and his exuberance was exactly what they needed. Piotr was very devoted to his religion, but he was also very devoted to his vodka.
“Set ’em up,” Zander told the bartender. “One shot each—of his favorite.” He jerked a thumb at Piotr. “On me.”
“Sure thing,” the bartender said. Zander and the bartender went way back, and everyone knew Piotr. “And for the lady?” The bartender winked at Rae.
Not so far back Zander would let him become too friendly with Rae. “For her too,” Zander said, giving him a scowl.
Rae glanced at Zander in trepidation. “I’ve never tried vodka.”
Piotr leaned around Zander to her, his light blue eyes brightening. “Never? Oh, young lady, you are in for a treat.”
The bartender poured it out, clear liquid in four shot glasses.
Zander lifted his. “To Rob
ert Wilcox, a strong man. May he rest in peace.”
“To Robert,” Rae echoed.
“To Dad,” Ezra said.
“I am sorry for your loss,” Piotr said. He lifted his glass. “To Robert.”
They drank. Zander and Piotr slammed their empty glasses back to the bar and slapped their hands down next to them. Ezra drained his shot but made a face and gently set the glass down again. Rae took a tiny sip, and coughed. And coughed.
Piotr laughed while Zander patted her on the back. “Take it easy, sweetheart,” Zander said.
Rae sipped again, this time swallowing more carefully. “It’s not so bad,” she said, her voice hoarse.
Piotr turned to the bartender, his enthusiasm building. “Again.” To the rest of them he said, “I teach you drinking game.”
The bartender poured four more shots, his gaze lingering a little too long on Rae. “I’ll have to take your keys if you keep this up.”
Zander waved that away. “We’ll walk. What is this game, Piotr?”
“You drink. You count. The last person who can count to ten without slurring wins.”
“Count to ten,” Zander repeated. “In what, Russian?”
“No,” Piotr said, snorting with laughter. “Chinese!”
“Not fair,” Rae said from Zander’s other side. “I don’t know Chinese.”
“In Mandarin,” Piotr said, “It’s yi, er, san, si, wu, liu, qi, ba, jiu, shi.”
“Got it?” Zander asked Rae.
She gave him a steady look, then repeated the syllables back perfectly.
Zander raised his brows. “I thought you didn’t speak Chinese.”
“I’m good at learning languages. I don’t know why.”
“Yeah? How many do you speak?”
Rae shrugged. “French, German, Italian, Spanish, Greek, a little Japanese, a little Russian. Some people are good at picking them up.”
Zander peered hard at her but Rae only looked back at him, her gray eyes ingenuous. There was more to the orphaned wolf than she let on, that was for sure.
“Ready?” Piotr asked.
Ezra growled from his other side. “Yeah.”
“Then go.”
Four hands picked up glasses and poured pure vodka down four throats. Rae coughed again, her eyes watering. Four voices called out the numbers in crisp Mandarin and Zander gestured for the bartender to fill them up again.
Piotr had to drop out of the game first. He was laughing too hard at the rest of them trying to wrap their mouths around the syllables to be able to speak. He bowed out manfully. Ezra kept up, determined, as did Rae.
As for Zander, things began to go fuzzy quickly after Piotr surrendered. Zander had dragged them all in here because he’d been hurting, as had Ezra and Rae. Good for Piotr with his level-headed sense of humor. He was the strongest of them at this moment.
Zander made it up to eight on the next round, then he skipped over nine and instead of ending with shi, he said, “Aw shit.”
“You lose!” Piotr cried in delight. “Zander who thinks he can drink the town under the table.” He thumped the bar with glee.
Ezra peered around them at Rae. “Give up, little cub.”
“Oh, please,” Rae slurred. “I’m past my T—” She made a face as she fumbled with the word Transition. “Teens,” she finished weakly.
Zander grinned at Ezra. “Afraid to lose to a female? I know a few who could kick your ass.”
“So do I,” Ezra said. His voice was a croak. “All right—you asked for it, Rae. I was trying to be nice.”
The bartender poured two more shots. Rae viewed hers in distaste but she grabbed the glass, closed her eyes, and drank.
Ezra downed his shot. He said, “Yi, er, san . . .” and fell face-forward onto the bar.
Zander was about to tell Rae not to worry about finishing but she jumped to her feet and yelled all ten numbers in perfect clarity. Then she punched the air. “I win!”
Piotr jumped off his stool and hugged her, lifting Rae from her feet. “You are an amazing young woman.”
He set Rae down but Zander snatched her up himself and spun around with her. “That’s my girl.”
Rae threw her arms up and whooped. Zander decided he’d better stop spinning before he fell over. He set Rae on her feet but stayed next to her.
Ezra lifted his head and looked around, bleary-eyed. “What happened?”
“You lost, my friend,” Piotr said patting his back. “But do not worry. We think no less of you.”
“Four glasses of water,” Zander said to the bartender. “Big ones. I can already feel myself dehydrating.”
Rae sat down on her stool again, unsteady but beaming in triumph. She took the glass of water the bartender set before her and drank half of it without stopping.
“You guys are easy marks,” she said, dabbing at her wet mouth. “I have two older brothers. I learned to keep up with them a long time ago. I’ve never had vodka but my brothers have a thing for malt whiskey.”
“No, no,” Piotr said to her around Zander. “You won fair and square. Do not belittle your skills.”
Rae switched her gaze to her glass of water. “I don’t think a drinking game requires a lot of skills. Stupidity, maybe.”
Piotr laughed his loud, booming laugh. “I like her, Zander. Where did you find her? Out fishing? Is she a mermaid?”
“Better than that.” Zander gave Rae a warm look but her gaze was still fixed on her water glass. The mention of her brothers had saddened her.
Zander was suddenly angry. What the hell was wrong with Shifters?—those selfish bastards who’d forced Rae’s dad to send her away from everyone she knew? So what if the Guardian was female? Rae had helped Robert without breaking down—she’d put Robert’s and Ezra’s needs before her own. She’d then helped Zander get through his pain without question.
Now Rae was here, hanging out in a bar with Zander, Piotr, and a grieving Lupine. Rae shouldn’t be here at all—she should be home with her father and brothers, surrounded by her loving family.
“Hi there.” A burly man in a flannel jacket slid onto the barstool on Rae’s other side. A couple of his friends took the stools beyond. “I’m Mike,” Mike said to Rae. He paid no attention to Zander, Ezra, or Piotr. “I haven’t seen you in here before, sweetheart. You visiting?”
“Yes,” Rae said, her shyness wiped away by vodka. “From Montana.”
The man gave her a grin. “Cool. Want me to show you around Alaska?”
Rae considered this, then said, “No thanks. I’m with friends.”
“Oh, come on.” Mike sidled closer, foolishly ignoring Zander, who was leaning back to pin him with his stare. “We can have a lot of fun. Just you and me.”
Whatever Rae would have said to that, Zander was never to know. The man, Mike, took hold of Rae’s braid and tugged her toward him as though he planned to kiss her.
A human woman might have burned him with sarcasm or become angry and told him to leave her alone. But Rae was Shifter, she was drunk, and she responded in the instinctive Shifter way.
She let out a fierce snarl and slammed a two-handed punch to his face.
Rae hit Mike so hard he fell over backward, his yell of pain cutting off as he landed hard on the floor. His two friends got to their feet and came around him, itching for a fight.
Rae didn’t wait. She launched herself at one of the men with a double kick, but when she landed, her Collar went off.
The sizzle of it and her cry of pain made Zander’s fury explode. He was next to her, pulling her out of the way before anyone could figure out the cause of her distress.
Then the two defeated men’s seven best friends came out of the woodwork and started for Zander. Piotr, big and labor-hardened, slid off his stool with a grin.
“Fellows,” he said—and threw himself into them.
Piotr loved to fight. Any time, for any reason. He went at it now, one human against seven. Zander yanked Rae’s hood over her head and shoved her down u
nder the bar beside the fishing rod case.
Rae’s Collar was still snapping blue sparks but she hunkered down to hide them. Whether or not the other humans noticed, Zander couldn’t tell, because they were cheerfully beating Piotr to a pulp. The rest of the bar shouted encouragement for both sides.
Zander shucked his coat and waded in to Piotr’s defense, but before he could engage, one of the men locked his arms around the dozing Ezra and pulled him off the barstool.
Zander lunged for the human, but too late. Ezra, awakened abruptly, his mind clouded, became his half-wolf and tried to rip out the man’s throat.
CHAPTER TEN
Rae held her hands over her neck, willing the Collar to stop sparking. If humans saw it she’d be captured and arrested, maybe even terminated, for leaving the state that held her Shiftertown. Eoin and her brothers could be as severely punished for not keeping her home.
Her worry about that took a backseat when Ezra flew by her, wolf paws throwing off his boots, his hands sprouting claws, his face becoming that of a snarling wolf, though he was still upright, his body in human form.
Yells and screams rose. The bartender shouted desperately, “Hey, no Shifters allowed!”
Too late, Rae thought. She tamped down her rage until her Collar finally ceased sparking and then she crawled to her feet.
Ezra was fighting against men who were defending themselves with fists, chairs, bottles. Ezra fought back in instinctive fury, no Collar to slow him down.
Zander got his bulk between Ezra and the men, and Ezra started fighting him, trying to get through Zander to the others. Zander’s growls filled the room, drowning Ezra’s, though Zander wasn’t shifting.
The only one not surprised Ezra was Shifter was Piotr. He kept on fighting with glee—kicking, punching, spinning, punching again.
Rae grabbed the case with the sword, holding it to her chest. If she joined the fight, her agitation and inebriation might make her shift to black wolf. Like Ezra, she’d be unable to stop herself.
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