by Cougar (lit)
Oh shit. There's no telling how Demon would react. Guardians directly in line to take over clan leader often were a bit unpredictable. Yet, he called the shots.
Demon claimed a foothold next to her and laid a palm on her shoulder.
She clenched her jaw and stared him down.
"There isn't time. John knew that," Demon spoke softly but firmly.
Her gaze met each of ours in a swoop. "If you're his brothers, you won't leave him like this."
Where's a gods-be-damned shovel?
Demon scanned the grass and knotted roots of the tree. "We don't have a shovel anyway, Sierra."
Good thing he was in charge. I'd already be clawing handfuls of earth from the ground to ease the pain in her eyes.
"I do," she ground out.
Demon sighed. "There's no time."
"Give me the shovel," I ordered.
Demon sighed, shooting me a disgusted stare as she riveted a serious gaze upon mine.
Something unsaid passed between us.
Something impossible to grasp.
Perhaps understanding?
But she dumped her bags in the grass and produced the pointed spade.
My stepbrothers took turns hacking at the hard earth to speed up the process while she strapped no-frills handguns at her hips and filled extra clips. Probably because she knew her delay would result in our party being attacked by Bounders. But she never met our gazes with the knowledge in her eyes that she endangered us all.
I'd do the same in her boots.
Demon finally patted the last clump of grassy earth atop the grave and tossed the shovel onto the long mound. "Let's go."
Sunset was close the way the intense orange light bore through the canopy.
* * * *
After strapping John's favorite handguns to her thighs, Sierra watched as the Guardians picked up her duffle bags, one by one, and heaved them over their shoulders. They're carrying my packs. For me?
Probably to steal everything. That was the way of life AEI. I grabbed my smaller lightweight backpack of extra clothing and the one containing medical supplies. And hoisted them each over one of my shoulders.
Just in case the men were out to rob me. It would be tough trying to get at Black Betty if I needed to. But the old rifle never failed me. I'd carry her close. And the handguns. Like John said.
A wave of smothering sorrow choked me.
The tallest quiet Guardian, the one whose eyes stared me down with empathy, strode over and extended a wide hand. "I'll take your packs for you."
He would?
Were these Shifters about to run off?
Leave me here?
Trade me to Normals for even more supplies? "It's alright. It's just my clothes. And medicine. I can carry them." Maybe he wouldn't care about either bag's contents. I clutched the straps at my shoulders and tried not to let the massive musculature of his broad shoulders intimidate me.
"No. You've got a heavy enough load to haul without dragging those packs along. And we'll travel faster if you don't have to rest." His strong broad hand waited.
For me to hand over.
Hell, what did anything matter anymore?
Without John, I'd be lucky to last two days without a male trying to claim me as a mate. My eight years in solitude with a man who loved me to death just ended. Lying to myself was stupid. I handed over, acquiescing to tote my guitar and Black Betty, and followed the tall capable forms of John's clansmen into the setting sun's reddening orange light.
Night was two steps away. With its monsters.
Bounders had to feed.
And this was the werescape. Earth altered by aliens. There wasn't anything to fear from genetically-modified shape-shifting warriors who swore to protect the weak. Was there?
* * * *
Jackal kept lookout behind his brother's mate as the others led the woman back through the night's quiet darkness to the tank. We'd be safe locked away inside the vehicle's steel walls if Bounders showed, he thought. Prepared, if we reached the vehicle. The trail we left on the drive out to the tree house meant we were highly likely to have visitors tonight. But since we were almost to the tank, we just might avoid a scuffle.
Hell, I just want to sleep.
The day had been too damned exhausting.
I buried my baby brother and followed his widow on a two-hour hike.
The thought of tightening down the tank's hatch and stretching out until morning sounded more satisfying than talking to the grieving lover my brother left behind. And for some gods-be-damned reason, I thought of nothing but talking to her. Maybe it was the fear in her eyes. Something that pushed me to reassure her she was safe. Or the woman's sorrow yelled for companionship. Just someone to speak to.
Maybe Demon was right. I'm too damned soft. Weak.
A shriek pierced the darkness.
The line of Shifters before me halted.
Bounders.
Shit.
Move now, Demon. I conjured up my internal deep hum to pull the change upon my Shifter eyes. To use night vision to scan the distance for the awkward gait of the squatty four-foot tall nocturnal creatures out to hunt the fools who lingered outside village walls.
They probably already had our scent.
Sierra turned to me, extending a hand. "The lighter pack, please."
I gave her the bag and kept my gaze on the distant expanse of dark tree trunks spaced out by shafting moonlight.
"Do you see anything?" she whispered and foraged through the bag's contents.
"Not yet."
She threw the pack over her shoulder. "Give me the other backpack."
"I told you I'd carry them."
"Not if you shift."
She was right. My clothes would be shredded. And I'd mindlessly drop anything I carried. I passed her the bag.
"Move," I muttered at my stepbrother, Badger.
Badger turned his burning silver Shifter gaze my direction. "Who stays with Sierra?"
"Tell Demon and Steel that I'll stay behind her."
She jerked something over her head, shot me a glance through night vision goggles, and curled her fingers around the butt of a pistol at her hip.
Talk about one prepared little angel.
The line headed forward again, ushering her along toward the tank.
We had to be close.
Where was the damned tank?
Movement fluttered to the left.
Party time. I closed the space between Sierra and myself.
She whipped the pistol out of its holster to point toward the Bounder.
Four awkward orange-red forms glowing from my night vision pulled black ground toward their bodies, heading in our direction.
Should I shift to guard her? "Will you feel better with me in were-form?"
"Do what you want." She didn't even glance my direction. "Just stay out of my way."
Maybe I should have been insulted about my intelligence when it came down to my having enough sense to keep out of someone's line of fire. But the time wasted on being angry wasn't going to gain us anything. "Come on. Let's keep moving. The others will fight them."
She began to trot onward. "How much farther?"
"We're close. Just keep moving."
"I see the tank," she blurted.
Talk about miracles.
Another shriek sliced through the darkness.
Demon roared.
My brothers' were-forms loped through the forest's stoic expanse of tree trunks.
Away from Sierra. To intervene with the advancing Bounders.
The bags my brothers carried littered the ground with their boots and belts.
Sierra leapt over the duffle full of firearms.
Leaving them behind would be a huge mistake. I stopped, bent, and heaved the load of ammo and guns to my shoulder.
Sierra caught my movement in her peripheral vision. She halted, raised her weapons, and fired into the nearby battle's clashing bodies of werewolves and Bounders.
Screeches cut through the night.
Only to be snuffed by the burst from each moment she quickly aimed and pulled the trigger.
Like rattling off death blows. With seamless motions. Effortlessly. Not many men could shoot with one hand the way she used both of hers. Still, she'd be safer inside the tank instead of engaging in target practice. "Come on," I shouted and stretched my stride toward the duffle full of canned food.
She followed at my heels, picking off approaching Bounders with carefully placed bullets set right between their eyes. "Leave the duffles until dawn," she shouted. "There's so damned many of the beasts. And Bounders aren't going to do anything with the supplies."
True. But the guns were the difference between life and death these days. I didn't want them damaged. I raced the last six steps to the bulky side of the tank.
She was there, at my back, shooting with both hands, two directions, knocking off Bounders with every bullet. Damn. Nothing wasted.
But more orange-red loping forms burst from the ends of the tank.
Flanking us. I grabbed her around the waist and threw her up at the hatch.
She scrambled her feet beneath her and fired at anything that moved toward me.
Thank the stars the blood-thirsty creatures couldn't climb. I shoved the bag of firearms and ammo on top of the tank and yanked my body up beside her slim kneeling form.
She kept matching the Bounders' shrieks with explosive pops.
I turned the hatch's wheel, pulled the heavy metal open, and crammed the duffle into the black hole.
The bulky mass would be in our way. I jumped into the darkness and slid the heavy load across the tank's metal floor, creating space for everyone else to move when climbing in to safety.
But every minute I left her topside she could accidentally shoot a Guardian. So, I thrust my ass back toward the dark circle of night sky, grabbed her around her trim waist, stuffed her into the tank's black void, and closed the hatch behind us.
My brothers roared.
Finally. Or I just noticed them now that we settled down in the blackness.
She backed up against the far wall to sit, checking her ammo clips. "Are you okay?" she asked. "Ready to shift?"
My pulse was pounding.
Yes. My arms jerking. And with my heat vision. "I can control it." The Normal woman didn't seem upset about my transitional edginess.
She eyed me over through those night goggles. "I can help you if you're ready to kill the euphoria."
The last thing I needed was the hands of my baby brother's mate on me. That skin of hers, touching mine. It had to feel like intoxicating silk. And she was so damned beautiful. Not many women reached twenty without looking like they'd birthed a dozen babies and worked twenty years in the fields.
Every cell in my body screamed for me to utter yes.
My foot jerked.
Thoughts of silk were deadly.
She watched me for one more breath, climbed into a squat, and edged to my side. "We're better off with your thoughts on the present," she whispered.
Shit. She was going to touch me. How was I going to just sit there?
My blood was boiling.
Her palm edged toward my face. "Everything's going to be alright," she whispered.
Wasn't I supposed to be telling her that? Instead, all I could do was sit there with my cock hardening to stone, licking my lips, with thoughts of her salty flesh moving closer and closer.
For one bloody bite…
My inner Wolf drooled.
"You have amazing control," she said, sliding her palm across my cheek.
Skin to skin, my pulse shot from throbbing to nuclear. If she didn't get her hand off me, I was going to shove her onto her back and bite a chunk out of her shoulder.
Chapter Two
My pulse suddenly eased up as Sierra pressed her cheek against mine inside the tank. I sucked in a breath and tried to relax. She smelled so damned amazing. Like the faintest hint of meadow flowers. A delicate softness only a hypersensitive nose on a Shifter could detect.
I had to struggle to sit still.
Appear unaffected.
But my grating teeth only alarmed any Normal foolish enough to lean against my cheek that I was having a difficult time not reacting to the skin-to-skin contact working to free my inner beast.
"Better yet?" she asked, her warm breath fanning my ear, leaning her curves against my chest. "It's Jackal, right?"
Her orange-red knee slid between my thighs, and she straddled the one leg, sliding her other hand down my bare arm.
My cock strained against the taut fabric of my pants.
Gooseflesh shivered down my limbs.
Or my wolfen hair was sprouting.
She was too gods-be-damned on top of me. "Yes."
But the medicinal human touch suddenly began easing my heart rate to the point my heat vision started failing.
The blessed sign I was coming down from my Shifter high.
Her glowing form faded into the darkness where the only way I knew she was there was from how she pressed her body's heat against mine.
Gods to slide my arm around that curve of her lower back I'd watched all afternoon. To hold her tightly. Those were dangerous thoughts. Thoughts that led to taking a mate. And I wasn't about to impregnate the woman and watch her die during childbirth like my sire did with my mother.
Something thumped against the hull.
A shriek echoed through the tank.
She flinched.
Frightened in the darkness. I slid my arm around the slender curve of her warm lower back, and we sat there like lovers. "It'll be over soon." My voice was too comfortable. With her in my arms.
"Is there a light in here?"
Loss of vision was the fine line dividing life from death to Normals. "We're better off sitting blind. I'd hate to lose my vision for a few moments because I jacked with a lantern."
Her fingernails gently scratched my scalp at the base of my head as she continued petting my arm with her other palm. Each of her breaths shoved her breasts into my heart where she sat with her chin propped upon my shoulder. "How do you feel?"
Like fucking your brains out. "I think my eyes have shifted back to normal."
She leaned backward.
Undoubtedly studying my face.
"You're right." She slid her sexy little ass off my leg and scooted a few blessed inches from my thigh.
She probably just didn't want to sit in the darkness alone.
But my mind raced with all the dangerous things that could result from a beautiful woman straddling my lap.
My fangs in her shoulder.
The mindboggling taste of her metallic blood sliding across my tongue.
Her body spread-eagled beneath mine.
The hot wetness of her tight inner vise squeezing my cock into explosion.
Those angelic lips shouting my name.
But none of that would happen. She was my baby brother's mate. And I damned sure wasn't going to take a little sex from her during her period of mourning even with some herbs to ensure my seed didn't take root inside her.
By the time she'd recovered from her loss of a mate, I'll be over my little yearning for what her body could do for me. If you want to call euphoria-induced desire yearning. It's bad enough my clan leader makes me have sex with village daughters when their parents request I court them. The risk alone in producing potential offspring is enough to make an honorable man have nightmares. I would never watch my mate bleed to death during childbirth like my mother did.
"Can you scoot that duffle over here so I can reload my ammo clips?"
She'd already loaded my groin into an unbending crowbar loaded with explosive shells. But I am a Guardian. And seeing her to safety is my job. More than shooting bullets into her womb. I yanked and shoved the heavy bag to her.
"Thanks."
The duffle slid a bit out of my fingertips.
"It's quiet now," she whispered.
The peal of a zipper n
oted she foraged through the duffle.
Bullets jingled.
"Will your brothers immediately join us?" she asked.
Her question wasn't laced with the fear of sitting with three hulking males in were-form. And I doubted the others would climb in to torment themselves with smelling her salty metallic tinge of blood. Absolute torture for a Shifter attempting to do the noble thing. If they couldn't control themselves, I'd have to fight them all off.
Not a problem.
But they'd probably sleep outside until their blood calmed and their bodies shifted back. "They'll probably sleep outside."
"I can handle sitting with a few werewolves," the darkness noted since my heightened vision had subsided.
"It isn't a question of what you can stand. The issue lays in their ability to reason with your savory flesh so close."
"I understand."
And those were the last two words she uttered before crying herself to sleep and waking in the morning. I sat there on watch throughout the night, protecting her until the hatch opened, flooding the dark tank interior with white light.
"Throw us some clothes, Jackal," Demon barked.
Sierra rustled to life, stretched out beside the duffle containing weapons like it was Rattler's comforting body. She pulled off the goggles, squinted at me, and levered up onto an elbow. Only to have her eyelids hang in awareness.
Sadly. Grief surfacing with the realization that yesterday's events hadn't been a dream. What kind of ass am I that would think of making love to her when she just lost her life mate? Like she'd want any piece of my fantasy. I shoved up to toss my naked half-brothers some pants.
By the time I'd finished, she sat with her back to the metal wall, knees bent, staring at her canvas hiking boots. Her expression spoke fathoms. So much pain twisted in those almost pouting lips. She apparently tried not to blink. I could tell by the unnatural way her eyes didn't move.
But her body forced the movement. And tears ran down her cheeks.
Hell. I didn't deserve to be her Guardian with my runaway thoughts. I'd have to leave one of the others to watch over her since I couldn't control thoughts I'd never struggled to control before.
