by Keri Hudson
“Quinton, nobody’s as… as fascinated with you as I am, but maybe it just stumbled on the territory? Maybe the hunters stumbled on it?”
It was possible, and Quinton was ready to weigh the odds. But he couldn’t afford to take anything at all for granted, not with Jessica so close and so much at stake. There was one clear move left.
“Have to go see Red.”
“I told you,” Jessica said. “I can’t wait to see his face.”
“You’ll have to, because you’re staying here.”
“Quinton!”
“No, Jessica, no! I appreciate your courage and I love you, but it just won’t be safe.”
“And it’ll be safe for you… alone?”
“Safer, maybe.”
Jessica turned her head with a pouty flip. “I see.”
Quinton sighed. “Jessica, think about it. If a fight breaks out, I won’t be able to look out for you.”
“I could help, shoot it or something.”
“You’d have to blast its head right off. Shifters heal fast, and we’re incredibly strong. Bullets barely penetrate our meat and hides, and when they do, we can push them out and close the wounds. Our bones can heal in hours, minutes even.”
Jessica gave it some thought. “But you’re not… indestructible?”
“Dead is dead, shifter or no. And we do have vulnerabilities. But we also have our strengths, like any other living thing, Jessica.” She nodded as she gave it some glum thought.
“But I don’t want to be here alone, and I don’t want you going out to face that thing alone either. I mean, a bear is bigger than a wolf, isn’t it?”
“I’ll have some advantages of my own.”
“Some?”
Quinton stopped walking and Jessica followed his lead, the two turning to face each other. “It has to happen, Jessica. This is my fight, my fight alone. When my parents died, I was… I couldn’t save them. I was almost knocked unconscious, couldn’t shift in time.”
“And I’m sorry about that, Quinton. I’d take that pain away from you if I could.” After a tender pause, she went on, “But you can’t save them now either.”
She was right, Quinton knew that. But a cold stream of blood running in his veins told him it didn’t’ matter.
“I’ll take you to the sheriff, he’ll look after you while I’m gone.”
“Quinton, no!”
Quinton set his hands on her arms, giving a gentle squeeze to calm her. “You’ll be fine, Jessica, I promise you that.”
Her brows arched, lips in a worried frown, her eyes tearing up. “But… what about you?”
It was a question Quinton could find only one answer to. “I’ll never leave you; not now, not ever.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Quinton walked Jessica hurriedly down the street toward the nearby Sheriff’s Department’s office.
“This is tricky,” Quinton explained, glancing around, his instincts on high alert. “The sheriff may or may not know what I really am, I’ve never been quite sure. So we can’t even hint at the existence of shifters.”
“No,” Jessica agreed, “of course not.”
“So he can’t know I’m asking for your protection while I go off to find one. Why would you be in any particular danger here in town? Where am I going and why do I have to leave you behind?”
Jessica took a moment. “We can tell him I’m worried about him attacking me. It’s not altogether untrue.”
“Fair enough.”
But Jessica was quick to add, “Before, I mean. With you around, I feel perfectly safe.”
Quinton enjoyed the little smile and the inspiration for it. But there were other considerations. “Still doesn’t explain why I didn’t leave you back at the hotel in your room. You’d be safe there.”
“Would I be? Especially if he’s our man. We don’t know that he’s not on his way here right now.”
“I’ll see him coming in, it’s the same route.”
Jessica sighed. “Yeah… oh, wait, I’ve got it! Let’s run over to the hotel, I’ll grab a few things.” She grabbed Quinton’s hand and pulled him running toward the nearby Gold Dust, too fast to explain. Once in the lobby, she let go of his hand with a quick, “Be right back!” She ran up the stairs toward her room, leaving Quinton alone in the lobby. Deliah strolled up to him, glancing up at Jessica as she arrived at the top of the stairs and ran down the hall.
Deliah said, “She really is lovely.” There was only a tint of bitterness in her voice.
All Quinton could say was, “She really is.”
“Look, Quinton, I… I don’t mean to be, y’know, snitty. I know how things are. And I truly am happy for you.” This was good news to Quinton’s ears, and he was ready let her go on and purge her feelings of guilt. “Things are just… I dunno, they get a bit…”
Quinton smiled. “Don’t worry about it, Deliah. You’ve been a good friend for a long time, and I know we’ll be friends for a good while longer.”
But a melancholy air overtook his old friend. “No, we’ll be losing you soon. Hope you like life in, where is it?” Quinton gave her a quizzical look which made her explain, “The way you’re lookin’ at her, you’d follow her anywhere.” Deliah stepped away, leaving Quinton to wonder about that.
I would follow her anywhere, but… to live in a place like Los Angeles? Blech. This is the place where I’m needed. I’m the protector of this terrain, one apparently wrought with ursine predators. I couldn’t leave if I wanted to, and I wouldn’t.
Quinton noticed Walt, seeing to business in the restaurant. He smiled and nodded, carrying empty plates back to the kitchen. Quinton returned the nod.
“Seems like a good kid,” Quinton said.
“He really is. He’s become like a younger brother, kind of. This place has become his home, we’re like… we’re like his family, I guess.”
Quinton gave it a little thought, the sweetness of the sentiment coming easily to him. He couldn’t help but think about his own family, his own loneliness and isolation. He would have liked a second family the way Walt seemed to have.
Maybe, he dared to think, to hope, to dream. Deliah glanced up to the opened second-floor hallway and turned to step away, a wordless confession that she knew Quinton and Jessica needed time alone.
Jessica returned, down the hall and then the stairs, her black camera equipment bag slung around her shoulder. She wore a smug little grin, one brow raised.
Quinton asked, “What’s on your mind?”
“You’ll see.”
Ten minutes later, they arrived at a single-level tan building of concrete blocks and a slanted roof, caked with snow around the rims. The building featured an entry area with a counter, behind it a bullpen with two desks and landlines and computers. There were two private offices, one in each corner of the bullpen. Another hallway led to other rooms, a holding cell. Quinton had never been that far.
Sheriff Richard Spalter himself stepped out of one office, closing the door behind him. “Quinton, Miss Hume.”
Jessica said, “Sheriff Spalter.”
The sheriff asked Quinton, “What’s up? Any news?”
Quinton shook his head and looked around the seemingly abandoned bullpen. “Stretched pretty thin?”
Sheriff Spalter took a look for himself, hands on his broad hips. “I’ve blown most of my budget for the year trying to find this thing. Everybody else is out trying to keep things calm among the shop owners, restauranteurs, and hoteliers. Gotta keep people calm and keep them out of the mountains.”
“Right,” Jessica said, “well, speaking of that, I had this idea. The reason I’m here is to research the effects of climate change, taking comparative photographs and measurements and so on. Well, when I heard about this creature you’re looking for, it struck me.”
The sheriff seemed intrigued. “Go on.”
“It’s got to be some unknown species native to the area! It’s probably lived in isolation in the region for generations. But when climat
e changes, it changes everything; prey animals migrate, predators migrate, humans encroach more and more. It happens all the time, all over the world. But here, where there’s so much isolated land, who knows… I mean, sasquatch, chupacabra, who knows what’s out there?”
Sheriff Spalter’s round head bobbed a bit on his chubby shoulders as he seemed to give it some thought. “Okay, I suppose. How does that help us kill the damned thing?”
Jessica glanced at Quinton, who stood there listening with a considerable and quiet delight. He couldn’t wait to hear what she would say to that.
“Sheriff, look at me, I’m not a hunter like Quinton here. I’m a photographer, a researcher, and a writer; it all ties in, see? So what I can do is write a story about this. I mean, it’s a huge story, you’d have to admit. If… when you catch it, I’d like to be here to report the story for the scientific and geographic community.” He didn’t appear convinced, and Jessica seemed to know it. So she quickly went on, “The story of the brave civil servant who led the charge, who brought the beast down. I think that’s a story that would inspire a lot of people, maybe to join law enforcement.”
The sheriff shrugged. “We could sure use it.”
“It won’t take long,” Jessica said, “a few hours, tops.”
“A few hours?”
“Sure,” Jessica said, pulling the camera out of her bag. “I’ll need to take a few photos…” she glanced at Quinton, their eyes catching before she went on, “lots of pictures. One of those’ll look pretty good in your new office… in City Hall.”
This caught the sheriff’s attention, it was clear by the turn of his head. Quinton had no idea the man had such ambitions, but he wasn’t surprised that Jessica saw it immediately.
“What about the publicity for tourism here? Don’t tell me the city couldn’t use the cash injection.”
“No, that’s… that’s true,” the sheriff said as he seemed to be thinking out loud. “We are nine hours from the nearest airport.”
“Tell me about it,” Jessica said, all of them sharing a little chuckle. “And think of the publicity, the fame. You’ll be on every Discovery Channel documentary for the next ten years. You do watch the internet, right? Because, um…” She jutted her head to indicate Quinton.
Quinton could only shrug and smile as Jessica clicked off a few more pictures of Sheriff Spalter. “I make my own discoveries.” That caused Jessica to look back at him with a sexy little half-smile.
But she turned back to the sheriff, lowering the camera. “And you’re so handsome, Sheriff Spalter.”
“Oh please,” the sheriff said, seemingly unable to contain his smile as he waved her off. “Now you’re just flattering me.”
“No, it’s true, it’s true. I wonder who’ll play you in the movie.”
“The… the movie?”
Jessica lowered the camera to reveal that stunning face, head tilted. “Small-town sheriff makes the scientific discovery of a lifetime and brings down some monstrous bear… or whatever it is. Of course there’s going to be a movie.” Jessica seemed to reflect, shook her head, and said, “Oh man,” before raising the camera for a few more shots. “Who do you think, Tom Hanks? He can play any age, or… no, Stallone!”
Sheriff Spalter said, “Miss Hume—”
“Jessica,” she said, “I insist.”
“Right, well, Jessica, I’m flattered, but, well, not sure this is altogether… appropriate.”
Jessica hit him with the expression of pure innocence of confusion. “Sheriff, this is purely professional.”
Quinton added, “Let’s be entirely clearly about that.”
Sheriff Spalter held out hand, palm flat to calm them. “No, I… I didn’t mean that, not at all, but… I’m a cop, in the middle of a big case. I don’t have time to take a bunch of pictures and talk about some imaginary movie.”
“It’s not just pictures,” Jessica said. “I’ll need all the data you have on the case… for the story. I have to get it right, after all. And I wouldn’t want to miss a single detail.”
Quinton said, “You’re here holding the fort anyway…?”
Sheriff Spalter sighed. “True enough.” There was little more to think about. “All right, then, let’s get to work.” Jessica turned to Quinton and flashed a bright, proud smile. It was a score and she knew it, and he loved both those things.
Quinton stood in front of her, setting his hands on her forearms before giving her a slow, deep kiss. She returned it, everything suddenly slowing down around them. There was grim meaning behind the kiss, as if it could be their last.
Quinton pulled back and whispered, “I love you.”
“Come back to me.”
“I always will.” Quinton stepped back to leave her, walking toward the door.
Sheriff Spalter asked, “Where’re you going?”
Unaccustomed to lying, Quinton forced a casual smile. “Back to my cabin, get some fresh clothes, guns, in case we hear anything and have to go hunting.”
The sheriff twitched, then nodded. “Oh, right, good, good man. Okay, but be careful out there. I can’t afford to lose my best gun.” Quinton nodded, and Sheriff Spalter snapped his fingers. “Hey, when all this is done, you should think about joining the department. I could pull some strings.”
Quinton couldn’t lie to say he’d never given it any thought. But there were other things to consider, things he didn’t think the sheriff knew. And there was no time to consider any of it. Instead he said, “Me? I’m still working on my film career.”
They all shared a little chuckle. Quinton gave Jessica a wink, telling her that she’d begun to influence him every bit as much as he was influencing her.
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Quinton said, glancing at the sheriff and giving him a little wink of his own. “Keep her safe ‘til then.”
He looked around the bullpen. “She’s the safest person in Anchorage!”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Quinton gassed up the motor sled, still parked nearby, and headed out of town toward Red’s cabin, miles from his own. The two men had to share a certain amount of space, away from town but still off the official boundaries of the state park. In Alaska, that was still a lot of land and gave each man his privacy.
It also made Red a constant threat. Quinton had never gotten over the memories of the attack on him and his family that terrible day ten years before. He could still hear the vicious growling, still remember having to drag his father’s body into the water to join his murderer, never to be seen again. The river led quickly into the open water, where orcas loomed. Their keen senses brought them when any shifter was nearby, and they had surely devoured any trace of both, which had never been seen again.
But the sheriff’s theories rang in the back of his Quinton’s brain. Could Red be the son of the shifter who died, taking my parents’ lives, trying to take mine? Has he come back to finish the job? But… why now?
One terrible possibility struck him, the motor sled speeding him toward his fate.
The shifter apocalypse, he realized. Has it begun? Quinton’s body trembled and it wasn’t just from the motor sled. It had always been a looming possibility, but he’d hoped it wouldn’t ever truly come to pass. Did he stumble on some hunters on his way to me and dispatch them? Could they have wounded him? He’d have healed from almost anything by now.
There was little more Quinton could reason out before facing the big man himself. He had no rifle and no reason to carry one. He was going to talk, a friendly chat, feel him out. If a shifter battle broke out, there’d be no use for a gun anyway.
Red’s cabin became bigger in front of him as Quinton sped toward it. He knew Red could see him coming, that he’d be wary of anybody approaching unexpectedly, especially given the circumstances. When Red stepped out of the cabin, Quinton was reassured that at least he wasn’t in Anchorage, ready to make a move on Jessica.
Quinton pulled up and stopped the motor sled, pulling off his helmet and goggles.
; Red said, “Quinton, this is… unexpected.” He turned his head a bit, squinting. “News of the hunt?”
“You’re in on that?”
“Of course,” Red said, raising an issue Quinton was eager to discuss, very lightly. Quinton was looking for the truth behind the lie, if his suspicions about Red were correct. “You?”
“Can’t have some big monster running around, tearing hunters to shreds, can we?”
Red ground his chin under that bushy red beard. “Maybe they deserved it. Maybe they were hunting it. Maybe they overstepped their bounds and had to learn a lesson.”
They were chilling words. “Maybe. Or maybe it was hunting them.”
Red shook his head with a shrug of his massive shoulders. “So what if he was?”
After a little pause, Quinton said, “He? Maybe it was a female.”
This caught Red by surprise, but he was clearly trying to hide it. “Yeah, maybe. No news, though? I’m packed and ready.”
“No news.” Quinton took a few steps around, glancing at Red’s cabin, big and heartily constructed of lodgepole pine logs. “Place looks good.”
“Yeah,” Red said. “So, if there’s no news…?”
Quinton turned to Red. He felt possessed of Jessica’s spunky spirit, ready to weave a little web if he had to in order to ensnare such a big and lethal prey. But Jessica had shown him how it was done.
“After our visit on the ridge, I thought it was about time we had a little chat.”
“‘Bout what?”
“About this… this feud, between us. I mean, we’re not so different, are we? We’re competitors, yes, as hunters, but there’s really enough prey to go around, isn’t there?”
“Less and less all the time as the snows disappear.”
Quinton couldn’t help but nod at that; and though it brought Jessica to mind, she was the last thing Quinton wanted to bring up. “All the better for a cooperative, then.”
“You mean… team up?”
“Maybe.”
Red seemed to give that some thought, but shook his head and turned away. “I work alone.”
