by Shea Balik
Wilder had tried not to take it personally when Jazz had excitedly left him every morning to work on the new project. It had been more than a little challenging to not show his irritation when Jazz came home and talked for hours on end about what he’d done all day. Well, to be honest, that part was kind of adorable. Wilder just wanted some of that same enthusiasm given to him, which, in fairness, once they went to bed, Wilder received most of the night.
Yet, no matter how little sleep Jazz got, he was raring to go every morning. Including this morning.
“Okay, now remember how I showed you how to hold the gun.” Every day, they spent an hour for lunch talking about proper gun safety. That had included everything from how to hold a gun, checking if it was loaded, and storing the gun. They hadn’t gotten to cleaning yet, but Wilder had known putting off actually shooting the gun was only causing his anxiety to rise.
It was like taking off a band-aid. Best to rip it off quickly, that way, maybe, Wilder wouldn’t have as many nightmares about his mate being out in the field with no way to defend himself. Of course, now those nightmares would be replaced with Jazz shooting himself in the foot.
“Good,” he said as Jazz placed his hands around the grip like he’d taught him, with his trigger finger off the trigger. They were currently out in the woods at a training course Hudson had built. At the moment, they were practicing in front of the short range field, which was between fifty to a hundred feet.
Since it was an outdoor range, the shooter was expected to set up the target at one of the clearly marked ten foot increments. In order to ensure no one accidently was shooting at a target while someone was placing their target, colored flags were set up to indicate when firing was acceptable. Green meant you were free to shoot, yellow indicated everyone needed to clear their guns, which meant not just taking out the bullets but placing a plastic stopper in the chamber to indicate the person shooting had followed the rules.
Then the gun was to be placed on the table provided. It was the shooters’ choice to either check their target, move it, or change it out for a fresh one. These procedures were at times tedious when there were a bunch of people at the range, but it also saved lives, especially on the long range courses where it was often difficult to know if someone was checking on the target a distance of a thousand feet, or in Hudson’s case, a half mile away.
While Jazz had been doing his computer thing, Wilder had made use of some of the other courses Hudson had set up. He had a faux town with pop-ups. That was Wilder’s favorite, since Hudson had ten different scenarios set up where he could use gun or knife throwing. There was also an archery course, which admittedly, wasn’t a typical weapon he used, but Wilder loved the challenge of mastering all weapon skills.
“Now, aim at the target. Be sure to have your feet placement right, shoulders down, and look through the sight.” Once Jazz was in position, Wilder tweaked a few posture issues. As he did, he couldn’t help but stroke along his mate’s spine, his hand falling to that sweet bubble butt and giving it a squeeze.
“Hey,” Jazz complained even as he jutted his ass into Wilder’s palm. “No distracting me.”
That made Wilder chuckle. “Oh, brown eyes, if you only knew how much that makes me happy to know I’m a distraction,” he whispered into his ear before kissing his neck. “But, joking aside, distractions are a part of life. If you ever need to use this gun, trust me, things will be happening that will distract you but you need to learn to tune them out and shoot anyway.”
Jazz gave a nod, his face a mask of determination as he once more settled into position.
“Make sure your safety’s off, then slide your finger to the trigger.” Once his mate had done that, Wilder gave the last order. For him it would be the true beginning of the end. For nothing else would stand in Jazz’s way of going into the field. Was it wrong to hope he sucked at this?
“When you’re ready, fire.”
Wilder hated himself for praying his mate missed as soon as the order left his mouth. It didn’t help that he was cursing the gods when Jazz not only didn’t miss, but stuck near or on the bullseye every damn time.
CHAPTER 12
“Look.” Jazz held out his paper target for Greyson to see the following day during their session. He was showing anyone he could his achievement. It felt bizarre to be proud of… well, anything. He knew he was going a bit overboard with this. But he couldn’t seem to help himself.
His life had changed so much in the last week, Jazz found himself pinching himself often, just to make sure none of it had been a dream. That was especially true at night when Wilder made love to him. His mate had a way of making him feel as if he were the only person that mattered. Like the world could come tumbling down around their heads and Wilder wouldn’t notice.
“Wilder said it was the best he’d ever seen a newbie do their first day.” His mate had beamed with pride when Jazz had finished unloading his clip. If only Wilder had looked happy about it. The entire week, Wilder had almost seemed ill whenever Jazz talked about working together.
“That’s great, Jazz.” Greyson handed the paper target back to him. “I think I hit the paper once on my first try. And it wasn’t anywhere near the colored target,” he laughed.
When Jazz didn’t say anything more for several minutes, Greyson cocked an eyebrow. “You gonna tell me why you asked for this session, or are we just going to stare at each other?”
At the moment, Jazz would rather choose the latter. Coming had been a mistake. He should have known he’d chicken out when it came time to talk. It was just, the week had been going so well, and Jazz could actually feel his confidence growing. Apparently, in the end he was still nothing more than a scaredy-cat.
His mind kept going over and over the look on Wilder’s face every time Jazz brought up their working together. On more than one occasion, his mate actually turned a shade of green and Jazz feared he was about to throw up.
If he didn’t do something, soon, Jazz was sure he was going to lose his mate. Like everything else in his life, it would be all his fault. He just had no idea what he was doing wrong or how to fix it.
There was no other choice, Jazz had to man up and ask the toughest questions of his life if he had any hope of saving his mating. Closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see Greyson’s expression, Jazz took a deep, somewhat calming, breath.
Opening his mouth, all that came out was an unmanly squeak. Great. At what point does something go his way? The paper target crinkled as his hands shook, reminding him that something had gone well for him. And not just the target shooting. His computer program was some of the best work he’d ever done.
At the rate they were going, they would have it done in another two weeks for testing. Which would mean the time to go out on the road with his mate was fast approaching. If Jazz didn’t fix the problem between him and Wilder before then, there was a good chance Wilder would really leave him at that time.
“Is it possible for a mate to no longer want the other mate?” Jazz had always been told a mate was for life, but that could have been nothing more than a fairytale.
This time, it was Greyson who let out a squeak, or a high-pitched shout. Jazz wasn’t really sure.
“You can’t possibly tell me you think your mate has lost interest in you,” Greyson managed to get out after clearing his throat a couple of times. “His hands were all over you and his tongue was down your throat when I saw you two outside on my way here.”
Heat swamped Jazz’s body, both in embarrassment and the memory of being in Wilder’s arms. His mate had a way of causing Jazz’s toes to curl with just a look. When Wilder kissed him, Jazz shivered at the thought, there was nothing Jazz wouldn’t do, no matter who was watching.
But lust didn’t equate to necessarily wanting to be near one’s mate. Right? Unsure of anything at the moment, Jazz found himself saying, “But he clearly doesn’t want me to go with him when he is doing assignments for the Council. Do you think he believes I can’t do my job?
” Jazz asked, before adding his worst fear. “What if he’s too embarrassed by me and doesn’t want to be seen with me?”
Greyson stared at him for several moments. His eyes blinked twice as if unsure what to say. Was Jazz a bigger idiot than he’d originally thought? Had Wilder made his feelings obvious, but Jazz hadn’t picked up on them? For all he knew, the whole town was laughing behind his back for daring to hope that his own mate would want him.
“Jazz, he’s afraid you’ll get hurt,” Greyson finally said, as if that explained everything.
But Jazz wasn’t that stupid. “That’s just what he said so I wouldn’t go.”
Greyson stared at him again as if Jazz had lost his damn mind. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling, even if he was used to people thinking him odd. At least this time, it didn’t take Greyson so long to speak. “Tell me something. When Wilder was fighting Kingston, how did you feel?”
All the emotions of that day came pouring through him as he remembered in vivid detail the moment Wilder had stepped into that ring. “I swear, it was as if I couldn’t breathe.”
“Why?” Greyson asked.
Jazz thought it a strange question but answered anyway. “Because Kingston was evil. The man didn’t know how to fight fair. He could have hurt Wilder.” Jazz swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. “Or worse,” he whispered, hardly able to get his voice to work.
“Why did that matter?” Greyson asked.
Jazz shook his head, unsure why Greyson was asking such ridiculous questions. “Wilder’s my mate. I don’t want anything to happen to him.”
“Why?” Greyson repeated.
Jazz leapt to his feet. “Because he’s my mate,” Jazz shouted. “It would kill me if anything happened to him.”
Greyson lifted a brow at Jazz. That’s it. He didn’t say anything or make another gesture.
Jazz frowned at the one person he thought could help him through this situation. The last thing he wanted was to push his mate away, but without someone to explain what he was doing wrong, Jazz feared that’s exactly what would happen. Yet, all Greyson seemed to be able to do was bring up his fears from that horrible day.
Of course, he didn’t want his mate to be hurt, or worse, die. Wilder was his… everything. Shouldn’t all mates feel that way? It was only logical that Jazz hadn’t wanted Wilder to put himself in dang…
Oh.
“I take it by the expression on your face, you’re finally beginning to understand why Wilder is so upset with you taking a risk, especially since you haven’t been trained to deal with threatening situations.” Greyson didn’t need to look so damn smug about it.
“But I thought…” Jazz’s face heated as he realized what he was about to say.
“Wilder didn’t believe you could do the job,” Greyson finished for him. “Yet, from all I’ve heard and witnessed of your mate, he is your biggest champion. So, maybe the real question is, why can’t you believe in yourself?”
That was easy. “Because I’m a screw up,” Jazz said as if he were on automatic pilot. “My father used to tell me that every single day of my life. Well, if he noticed my existence, which admittedly, wasn’t often.”
Jazz slapped his hand over his mouth. He didn’t talk much about his past. In fact, he tended to stay away from it as much as possible. Around Wilder, it had been impossible. Jazz had told more about his life to his mate than he’d ever talked about himself in his lifetime.
But that was Wilder. He was just… different. Jazz’s only excuse now was that he was stunned at the realization that his mate really was afraid for Jazz’s safety. Just as he had been when Wilder had faced Kingston.
Greyson didn’t ask more questions. He just sat there and waited. It was what usually happened in these sessions. And damn it if it often ended up working, too. He’d told Greyson about Kingston because of the same reason.
The thing was, he might have ruined something good, his relationship with his mate, because of his warped views about himself. Maybe…
Just thinking about talking about his past had Jazz’s palms sweating. But he needed to find a way to be better. If not for him, then for Wilder. His mate deserved for Jazz to at least try.
When Jazz opened his mouth, he found it easier than he’d ever imagined to delve into his past with the hope that it would make him worthy of the man he was falling in love with.
CHAPTER 13
Pride shone from those sweet brown eyes as Jazz and Edrick explained the system they’d developed to the entire Council, who had made the trip for the unveiling, as well as Edrick’s inner circle. Wilder wasn’t entirely sure if he’d been asked to attend in support of his mate, or as a Council enforcer, since the system would help him find rogue shifters.
Either way, he was just happy to see his mate in his element. Jazz radiated joy at having accomplished what they’d set out to do in just three weeks. They warned all, this was only the beta version. The system would be installed in every Council member’s office and they were all expected to use it in order to find any bugs that might still need work.
Wilder and Jazz would be each given a laptop, which eventually all enforcers would carry with them, to help them locate shifters who had gone on the run. It would also help them to stay in communication with each other, posting pictures and last known whereabouts of criminals, so they all would be able to be on the lookout.
It would be similar to what the human police used, but on a much larger scale. This system would link all shifters around the world. The hope was to install the system to all shifter groups once they’d got it working. That way alphas would have a way of communicating with the Council without having to try to arrange appointments or reach them by phone.
Plus, if there was some kind of emergency, they’d be able to put it on the system and anyone nearby could help.
“Case in point,” Jazz said as he went into more detail. “Just last week, an earthquake buried several towns in Chile. Not only were two human towns affected, but so were three shifter communities, two of which the human population didn’t know about because the shifters mostly stayed in their animal forms.”
There were few tragedies worse than a natural disaster. Not that a killer on the rampage wasn’t horrifying, but something like an earthquake did so much damage and usually ended up killing hundreds of people. That was especially true in the mountains of Chile.
“A small colony of chinchillas had been trapped when a landslide covered the caves they lived in. If it hadn’t of been for a family of pumas in the area sending out an alert, it’s doubtful the colony would have survived.” Grief dulled the color of Jazz’s eyes as he added, “As it was, four of the young ones died because it took too long to get word out for others to come help.”
“We don’t know if anything would have saved them, Jazz,” Edrick said. “The fact is, in something like an earthquake, especially in an area as remote as the Andes Mountains, the odds of them getting an internet connection to send an alert probably wouldn’t happen.”
“So, how do we address that?” Saber asked. “I mean, a lot of shifters live in remote areas in order for them to have the freedom to shift. Which means, internet access will be sketchy at best.”
Wilder tried hard to not get his hopes up that this new issue would keep Jazz in Miracle longer. At least Jazz no longer seemed to get upset at Wilder’s less than thrilled reactions to their going on the road.
Edrick glanced over to Jazz. “Any ideas?”
Jazz was already shaking his head. “No, but what if we reached out to Yosi? He loves a challenge and if anyone has the resources to find a solution, it would be him.”
The tension in the room rose, causing Wilder’s bear to become antsy. He couldn’t help but step closer to his mate, partially shielding his mate as he waited. For what? He had no clue.
It wasn’t helping his bear’s anxiety when his mate’s back became rigid, most likely from the way everyone was staring at him like he was crazy. Jazz had been working ha
rd on all the issues of his past, but he still worried that people would judge him and find him lacking.
“What’s wrong with contacting Yosi?” Wilder growled out, pissed that his mate had been feeling so damn good just a few minutes ago and was now starting to once more shrink in on himself.
“He’s an enemy to shifters,” Koen Dirks, Councilman and a professor in the sole shifter only university in the upper most regions of Canada. “Everyone knows that.”
Jazz let out a gasp. “But why? He didn’t seem like a bad guy when I met him.”
There were more than a few gasps of surprise from some of the Council. Yet, Saber, Edrick, and his inner circle weren’t at all surprised by Jazz’s statement Then again, that was because Jazz had already told them Yosi offered him a job, which he’d turned down.
“Is that why you’re in Miracle?” Jerzy Rocha, a coyote shifter, snarled out. “To spy on us for Yosi?”
Wilder stepped completely in front of Jazz, keeping himself between his mate and those who dared to accuse him of such a ridiculous idea. “I suggest you take that back unless you want to be challenged.”
“Jerzy has a point,” Banyan, a Ram shifter, said in defense. “Yosi has been wanted for treason for at least twenty years. If your mate knows the traitor as he claims, we have the right to at least question him.”
Wilder growled, the sound rumbling through the room. “You’re both idiots.”
Jerzy stepped forward as if to attack, but Saber intervened. “Enough,” he said in a tone that didn’t allow anyone to disobey. Edrick might be the Alpha of Miracle, but Saber was Council Leader. Their animals demanded they submit to his will.
Wilder didn’t hesitate to tilt his head in submission. It took longer but eventually so did Jerzy and Banyan.
“Mind explaining to the room why Yosi isn’t the traitor everyone seems to feel he is?” Saber asked Wilder.
“Yosi had become wealthy and powerful both in the human world and the shifter one,” Wilder told them. “When he refused to do Refugio’s bidding and use his technology to spy on all the world leaders, Refugio made him enemy number one.”
