Frost (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham Book 3)

by Candace Blevins

  And so, I made my way to it, stopped at the gate at the bottom of the small mountain, input the code the rental company had given me, and went through as it opened. I stopped and looked back to make sure it closed — we didn’t want unexpected visitors.

  The road going up is hard-packed gravel, so I took it nice and slow. It’s curved, and steep, but this meant no one was likely to bother us. The nearest hiking trail is a mile and a half away, and the terrain is too steep to go off-trail and accidentally end up there.

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a cabin I rent when I need some alone time. I love my brothers, but owls are mostly solitary, and sometimes being around them is too much. My house is in the spa’s compound, and work is crazy. I’m careful not to fly around too much here, but I can let my owl have some time. Squatch comes with me sometimes, when he needs to let the bear out. Usually, I come alone, though.”

  “Am I going to get to meet your owl?”

  “If you’d like. Do you think I can meet your cat?”

  I pulled up to the cabin as I asked, and I felt her taking her helmet off behind me. I killed the engine, and she slung her leg around to get off. I missed her body heat, but I tried not to show it.

  “Yes, I think she’d like to explore the forest here. Any problem with my cat finding her own food?”

  “No, but I paid for the cleaning staff to leave four Cornish hens in the refrigerator.”

  “Nice, but she’d rather find her own food. Maybe we can cook the chickens and have them for dinner?”

  I stood beside my bike and stomped my feet a few times to get them used to the ground after riding, and then turned and walked towards the cabin. Ten steps up, and there was a view of the valley below us. I turned to look at it, but I didn’t take the time to enjoy it yet. The gate code had been the last three digits of my cellphone, and the door code was the last five digits. I keyed them in, opened the door, and motioned her inside.

  “I like it out here.”

  Which apparently meant she didn’t intend to go inside.

  “Me too, but I figure I’ll take my clothes off inside and then go out the back door before I change. You’re more than welcome to wait here, if you want. I won’t fly above the level of the trees.”

  She sat on the top step and looked out at the beautiful view, so I closed the front door behind me and did exactly as I’d said I would.

  Owls are known as silent killers because few animals hear us when we glide. Perhaps my owl wanted to show off, because he flew as high as he dared, and then glided around the house, his wings out and still, tilted more than one would need to lean on a bike, and he came around the house at top speed, at the level of her face, barely five feet in front of her. We heard her sharp intake of breath — we’d surprised her.

  The owl was pleased.

  He straightened his body, pulled his wings in, landed on a thick branch, and turned his head to look at her. And yes, his head turns completely around, so it looks like it’s been assembled all wrong.

  She gave a quiet giggle, and the owl hopped around so he could look at her straight on, his eyes focused on her during the entire turn.

  “You’re beautiful, and I bet there are a ton of bunnies who never knew what hit them. Is that what you mostly eat? The internet said you eat lemmings on the tundra, but we don’t have those here.”

  She’d read about us? Interesting.

  The owl flew towards the ground, shifted ten feet in the air, and the human landed gracefully on his feet. My feet. Pronouns are hard for shifters, sometimes.

  “Impressive.”

  I smiled up at her. “Your turn.”

  “I was hoping for a little hunting time, but you’re going to need to eat before you change back.

  “No. I can shift several times without food. I’d like to see your cat while I’m a man, and then if you’d like to hunt and eat together, we can do that.”

  “Are you sure it’s safe? Neither of us are indigenous.”

  I explained all the reasons it’s safe from humans wandering in on us, and added, “Plus, with the wind conditions, we’d smell a human coming long before they saw us.”

  “The cabin doesn’t have security cameras?”

  “No. It’s off the grid. Solar on the roof, batteries in the basement, and no internet access at all. Not even on our phones. I have cell service, but no data here. I’m betting yours is the same.”

  She pulled her phone out and frowned. “You’re right, one bar and no data, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t cameras with a couple of days saved on a hard drive locally, in case someone trashes the place.”

  “Can you hear them? Some of the wolves can hear either the camera or the transmission, I’m not clear which, but they can walk through a house and point to them, every time, so long as they are active.”

  “I’ve never tried.”

  “Walk around and listen. Look for them, while you’re at it.”

  I gave her the code to get in, and she came back outside several minutes later, naked. She changed on the porch, leapt off it so gracefully I nearly got goose bumps, and ran into the woods. I followed, and she circled back to me.

  She was big — much larger than I’d expected. Not tiger big, but larger than the cougars and leopards I’ve been around.

  And her amber eyes caught me by surprise. I’d expected them to be green, but they were a rich, warm tawny — not orange or yellow. I was betting the artist would know what to call it. I searched my mind for the colors I’d seen on swatches. Ochre, maybe, or raw sienna.

  Today was about trust, so I squatted down in human form, eye level with her, and let her smell all over me while I stayed motionless. Her whiskers tickled my face, but I didn’t pull away.

  “There’s a squirrel in a tree, watching us. Couple of trees behind you, on your left.” I wiggled the fingers of my right hand. “This side.” My owl knows right from left, but most wolves don’t. I didn’t know if Cheyenne’s cat would or not.

  She chuffed, and I chuckled. “I know. Not much meat, but you’ll have fun catching him. He’s a little overweight, so he might not be terribly hard to get. I’ll go inside and bring some chicken out, then I’ll change.”

  And I’d trust her cat not to eat the owl. He could fight her from above and inflict damage, but it would be hard to do much from the ground.

  Chapter Seven

  Cheyenne

  The cat had three squirrels laid out on the ground by the time the human man came back with four cold, skinned chickens. Warm squirrel might not have as much meat on the bones, but it was so much better than cold, long-dead chicken.

  When the human Cheyenne really wanted to give the cat a treat, she brought home a whole bunch of live chickens and put them in the backyard. Or bunnies, or goats. Goats were good to eat, but not much fun to chase.

  I was in the back of the cat’s mind, watching, but I let her do what she wanted. She liked Frost, so I knew she wouldn’t hurt the owl.

  I also knew we were going to practice changing in mid-leap and landing as a human. We’d never tried, and I had no idea if we could pull it off, but the cat and I were both in agreement about trying. The owl had impressed us with that trick.

  My alter-ego is a Eurasian lynx. Females in the wild usually top out at around forty-five pounds, but I weigh nearly eighty pounds when I first shift, and a good bit more after I’ve eaten. I’m around five feet long. In other words, though a lynx is considered one of the mid-sized cats, I’m larger than some of the big cats. My family says we’re part of the Carpathian subspecies, which basically just means we’re bigger and prettier. Supposedly, that’s also why my cat’s coloring shows in my human hair. That usually happens with the fancy subspecies of shifter, and not the main group.

  It’s likely because of her size, but people respect the cat. Wolves respect her. Birds respect her. The only animals that don’t show her respect are the huge cats like lions and tigers, and the largest of the bears. Probably the dragons — I’v
e never been around one, but I figure it’s a safe assumption.

  But Frost hadn’t smelled scared. He’d trusted us, and when he shifted to owl and stayed on the ground, I understood just how much he trusted us.

  I picked one of the squirrels up with my mouth, walked it towards him, dropped it, and went back to my two. He bounced over and tore into it. Those talons were deadly. In a fight to the death, the cat would win almost every time, but probably not before the owl inflicted some damage.

  The snowy owl is one of the largest of the owls — sometimes even larger than the great horned owl, and they’re supposedly more vicious. Frost’s wingspan was at least six feet wide, possibly bigger. He was around three feet tall, so he was nearly eye-to-eye while standing in front of the cat.

  And speaking of his eyes, I’d expected them to be blue, but they were yellow. The cat didn’t care, but the human in the background wanted to paint them. Supposedly, diurnal owls have yellow eyes, and the ones who hunt at twilight have orange eyes. Snowy owls hunt during the day, not at night.

  We polished off the squirrels and everything he’d brought outside, and then the cat followed him into the woods. He situated us at a fallen log so we could look down on the cabin. The cat crawled up under the overhang of the log, and the owl did the same near her tail.

  Snowy owls are ground nesters, though they usually pick a spot on a hill, so they can see the surrounding area. That’d surprised me.

  The cat was satisfied to laze in the shadow of the log, but the human in the back of the cat’s head grew concerned about the time. I walked the cat a few feet into a clear area, changed, and then sat naked on the log.

  “It’s getting late.”

  Frost’s owl jumped up on the log and stared at me. Damn, he was a huge fucking owl. And beyond beautiful.

  “You’re gorgeous. Can I touch your feathers?”

  He stretched a wing out in invitation — or perhaps he was saying not to pet him on the head. My cat hates that, too. I gently ran my hand down his wing, and then did it with a little more pressure. Lots of muscle, which wasn't surprising.

  “Thank you.”

  The owl bounced two times backwards, and then the human was standing on the log.

  “Do all owls shift that fast?”

  “Probably not, but those with power do. Your cat changes without a lot of angst. It’s pretty quick.”

  “Yeah, but yours is almost instantaneous.”

  “There are steaks and pre-baked potatoes in the refrigerator. I can grill the steaks and pop the potatoes in the oven. They’re still in the foil, so they shouldn’t be dried out. There’s also butter and sour cream, and I have pink salt in my saddlebag.”

  “Pink salt?”

  He shrugged. “It has different minerals in it. Tastes better. It’s what I like, and I didn’t trust the people doing the shopping to get it right.”

  “Thanks for trusting the cat.”

  His oh-so-blue eyes softened, and he jumped off the log and stepped to me. “She’s huge. Much bigger than I expected, but I adore her.”

  “She liked you. I couldn’t believe she actually followed you into the forest, but that was all her. I didn’t pilot her at all.”

  He held his hand out, I put mine in his, and we walked to the back door. He keyed the code in and went to the kitchen. I went to the living area to put my clothes back on. Shifters don’t worry too much about nudity, but I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea.

  He merely said, “I should probably put my jeans back on, since I’ll be manning the grill. Do you want tea? They have an assortment in the cabinet, and there’s a kettle to the right of the oven.”

  Before long, we were sitting down to eat, and I marveled at how normal it felt. This was Frost. I’d never in a million years thought he’d see the real me, much less be so nice.

  But I hadn’t seen the real Frost back then, either.

  “I liked you, before, but I didn’t really know you. I mean, not this side of you. The more I get to know you, the more I like you.”

  “Ditto. I missed you. Not just the sex, though I admit that’s part of it, but the time after. I rarely just lay with someone after, and I did with you. I guess that should’ve been a clue, but I had so much going on, it didn’t register. I’m glad you were working so we ran into each other.” He looked around. “I don’t have to be anywhere until eleven tomorrow. We could stay over, leave at seven and get a nice country breakfast, and still have time for me to take you home and then make it to church.”

  Church was the MC’s weekly meeting. Technically, I didn’t have to be anywhere until around three the next day — in time to start dinner for the kids. However, I wasn’t sure spending the night with him was a good idea.

  Or, maybe it was.

  It wasn’t like we’d never had sex, but it was going to be different, now.

  “Are we ready to complicate whatever this is with sex yet?”

  “It isn’t like we haven’t already been there, but if you want to wait, we don’t have to do anything. You can keep your cute little panties on if you want.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “You didn’t see me undress or dress. How do you know my panties are little and cute?”

  Those clear blue eyes held my gaze and my heart beat faster. To be so icy blue, they had heat in them, and we weren’t outside anymore, so that wasn’t it.

  “They always are.”

  I laughed. “Actually, they aren’t always cute. It’s a trick my aunt taught me. If you don’t want to have sex with someone, but you think you might not be able to stand strong, wear old granny panties and don’t shave your legs.”

  He sat back. “Did you follow your aunt’s advice today?”

  “The legs don’t matter because I changed, but no granny panties because I didn’t know we’d be coming here. I thought we were going for a ride, getting something to eat, and then you’d bring me home. I didn’t plan to invite you in.” That sounded harsh, so I tried to soften it. “I’m still not sure what we’re doing. I mean, I like you, and I’m not sure why you’re being so nice, and I guess I’m waiting for you to start not being nice again. How will you be around your brothers?” I couldn’t bring myself to say I wanted someone who treated me the way Mad Dog treats Velvet, or the way McGyver treats Iris, or Dementor with Ember.

  He settled his silverware on his plate and leaned back in his chair. “I plan to tell my brothers you aren’t Banshee anymore. You’re Cheyenne, and they may see me with you at the restaurant, and I expect them to treat you as mine. Not going to ask for a vote on what it’ll take to bring you to the clubhouse yet, but they’re going to have to be okay with you being in the restaurant. It’s a first step. You need to see me around my brothers. You need to understand things will be different.”

  He took a drink of his tea. I was sipping mine hot, but he’d put ice in a glass to cool his off. Technically, I wasn’t supposed to be on MC property, and that included the restaurant. If Mad Dog gave him permission to take me, that was a good sign.

  “Not going to push you for sex,” he continued. “I hope you’ll want to stay tonight, but if you aren’t ready, I’ll take you home. When we left this morning, I wasn’t sure I’d bring you here. I rented it hoping things would go well enough, but I wasn’t sure. I’ve had a blast with you today. If we eat and leave, so be it.”

  “I don’t want to eat and leave.” I wasn’t certain sex was a good idea, but I also wasn’t ready for this date to be over.

  “Then we won’t. There are poker chips and cards, if you want to play poker.” He grinned. “Or we can leave the chips in the box and play strip poker.”

  “Snowy owls aren’t nocturnal, right?” I mean, that’s what the internet said, but I’d thought all owls were, so I asked.

  “Right, but you’re a night hunter.”

  “Could we go for a hike without flashlights? Do you have good night vision?”

  “It’s decent enough, sure.”

  But probably not as good as m
ine. Well then, that left us one option. “I saw a hot tub.”

  He gave me a half smile. “You did.”

  My insides did a somersault. Yes, we were probably going to have sex. Yes, I was probably going to get my heart broken. If I was smart, I’d go home and forget the sexy man sitting across the table from me, but I’ve never been a genius when it comes to men.

  His smile faded. “Why do you look sad all of a sudden?”

  Because it isn’t going to be just sex for me, and you’re going to break my heart, and I’m going to let you.

  Instead of answering, I took another bite of steak and tried to change the conversation. “The steaks are perfect. You have serious skills.”

  He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Who named you Banshee?”

  Right. He’d been in jail when I’d first come to the clubhouse. I rolled my eyes and told him, “Dementor, long before he met Ember. He didn’t mean it in a good way. My screaming annoyed him.” And I’d told him if he didn’t want to hear me scream in pain, he shouldn’t be so damned rough on my ass.

  “And once you were given the name, making you scream became a thing, right?”

  I shrugged. If so, I hadn’t realized it, but it was possible he was right.

  “I guess I need to understand whether...” He leaned forward and met my gaze. “I need to understand how much anal sex you’d had before you came to us, and how you felt about being mostly anal while you were at the clubhouse, and whether that’s a dynamic you want to keep between us? I mean, I admit I enjoyed tearing you up, but mainly because I know you enjoyed it. If you’ve decided that isn’t for you anymore, you need to tell me.”

  That’s why he thought I was sad? Well, it was better for him to think it was about anal sex than for him to know the truth.

  “I’d never had anal sex before. Gil had fingered my butt a few times, but he’d never...” I shrugged. “He never asked me to. A few boyfriends before him had wanted to, but I’d said I didn’t want to. My first anal was during my initiation weekend, so yeah, I screamed and cried whenever someone took me there because I was so fucking sore and raw and...”