Chance Fur Hire (Bears Fur Hire 6)

by T. S. Joyce

  Abby was sobbing louder, wailing like an Alaskan storm wind, but with fire in his eyes, Chuck jerked his chin toward the trail that led to the river. “Abby and I emptied the canteens earlier. Chance is getting water to clean my leg.”

  They’d killed Chance. Oh God, they’d killed him!

  Emily pushed off him, barely resisting the urge to slit his fucking throat. “You’ll get no first aid from me,” she yelled over her shoulder as she bolted for the radio in her backpack. She twisted the on button and sprinted for the horses. She yanked Gunner’s reins off the rope line and swung over his saddle. With a kick to his ribs, she glared at Abby. “Good luck sewing him up.”

  Gripping the speaker button, she guided Gunner down the trail as she yelled into the radio, “Dalton, they split us up. Please tell me you have eyes on him.”

  No answer.

  “Dalton!” Silence. Fuck. She tossed the radio and held onto the saddle horn for dear life as Gunner hit his stride.

  Something barreled toward them in the dark, and at the terrified scream of an oncoming horse, Emily yanked Gunner to the side of the trail just moments before Rosy blasted past. In the instant she ran by, Emily could see the terror in the horse’s rolling eyes. Chance, Chance, Chance.

  She could smell it now—smoke. Gasoline. And the instant the rolling river came into view under the blue moon, the glow of tall flames clashed with the night. “No,” Emily murmured, her hair whipping around her face as Gunner raced toward the fire. Her future wavered with every pounding hoof beat Gunner drew them closer. Happiness, pack, family, her Chance. Her last chance. She was going to be too late to save him, too late to save herself.

  Gunner’s hooves splashed through the shallow stream, and when she yanked on the reins, he skidded across the bank on the other side, his legs locked. Heart leaping into her throat, she slid from his saddle and bolted for the fire. She could see Uncle Victor now, hood pushed back onto his shoulders as he injected his leg with something. Two more needles littered the ground beside him. Adrenaline.

  Chance’s wolf lay limp just on the edge of the glowing firelight, the red on his fur contrasting with the white. Think. Uncle Victor would’ve incapacitated him, injured him enough to subdue him but not enough to kill. Not yet. Traditions had to be upheld. If she could just get to him, if she could stop Uncle Victor, Chance could still live. He had to.

  Emily pushed her legs harder and, as soon as she was close enough, dropped onto the ground full-force and skidded through the dirt on her knees toward Uncle Victor. She slashed her knife at the back of his leg, but at the last second, he jerked out of the way, her blade missing him by inches. Blinding pain seared across her back. With a gasp, she fell forward to escape the next arc of his knife, snaking her leg out to catch him at the ankles. Uncle Victor fell hard but caught her wrist, saving himself from a blade to the face. With a painful wrench, she lost the grip on her handle. She yanked backward to escape his next attack, sacrificing the arm to save her skin.

  Victor released her and laughed a single, cruel sound that echoed through the valley.

  Emily struggled to her feet and looked down in horror as red seeped from her wrist. He’d cut her deep—cut to kill, not just to maim.

  Uncle Victor’s face was an unrecognizable mask of hatred in the firelight as he stood to his full height. His skin was pockmarked and a sickening shade of gray, and his head shaved clean. Sweat dripped down both sides of his face, and his eyes held a look of insanity.

  “Niece, did you think I didn’t expect you to come running? Did you think I was going to give you a chance to maim me first? I made you!” he screamed, the veins in his forehead bulging. “All of your training came from me, you stupid girl.” He jammed his long blade at her dripping fingertips. “A dishonorable death for a traitor.” He spat. “Whore of a werewolf. You’ll burn tonight for the first time. The rest of your eternal suffering will be in the fires of hell.”

  “You’d rather take the man I love from me than forgive them for existing?” she asked. “You’d rather take my life?”

  Uncle Victor lifted his chin, his dark eyes flashing with pride. “It’ll be my last and greatest achievement.”

  That’s all she needed. Those were the words that ripped the last lone thread of affection that bound her to an idea she owed her family some fucked-up sense of loyalty. He wasn’t worthy.

  She was bleeding out. Dying. But one look at Chance, and she gathered her strength. His eyes opened, white as snow and full of pain, but steady on her.

  His love had saved her soul in the end.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered before she ran at Uncle Victor, pulling a knife as she did.

  She cleared her mind, gave into her training, her instinct, moved like water as he slashed and missed with every arc of his knife. Emily leaned back and watched Uncle Victor’s knife glide just centimeters from her face. With too much force into the miss, he stumbled backward, his back to the bonfire he’d built.

  His body shaking and his eyes wide, he gasped a wet sound and looked down slowly at the damp darkness soaking his cloak. He had missed. She had not. The blade dropped from his hand, and he grasped a burning stick that stuck out from the fire.

  “I wouldn’t,” she warned, too weak to get up now as her arms and legs went cold. Pit, pat, pit, pat. She was painting the dried leaves. “You lost.”

  With a snarl of his lips, Uncle Victor wheezed out, “We both lost. You’ll watch him die, and then you’ll follow him to hell—alone.”

  “You’re wrong, Uncle,” she murmured, angling her face to the side. In her peripheral vision, a huge gray wolf flanked her left side, approaching slowly with his teeth bared and the look of death in his snow white eyes. On her right was a pitch-black wolf with gold eyes. She swayed and gave Uncle Victor one last smile. As a single tear fled the corner of her eye, she whispered, “I was never alone.”

  He shook his head in disbelief and backed up a step, gripping the burning log as Link and Dalton stalked him. Emily’s vision blurred, and she fought to keep her eyes open. Behind Victor, a white wolf leapt over the flames and landed on her uncle’s back.

  Emily let off a soft moan and fell backward onto the pine-needle blanket of Chance’s woods. Uncle Victor didn’t scream or struggle, and Emily was grateful for that. She didn’t want to leave this life on a death song.

  “Em,” Chance said, lifting her head. He was naked, covered in healing knife wounds. His skin was a pale, shimmering gold in the pulsing glow of the fire. “Oh my God, Em,” he said hoarsely as he gripped her bleeding wrist impossibly hard. It wouldn’t save her, though. He hadn’t seen the cut on her back, and she wasn’t going to spend her last moments with him fighting the inevitable.

  “I have something to tell you,” she murmured, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t ready. Wasn’t ready for her time with Chance to be done. “You saved me.”

  “Don’t talk, Em,” he said, eyes brimming with moisture. “Dalton, what do I do?”

  Dalton was there, his shoulders bare, wolf eyes bright, black hair fallen forward. So many stars behind him. Beautiful Alaskan sky.

  “Link went to get help,” Dalton said low. “We left our packs in the woods.”

  “You saved me,” she repeated.

  “No, I didn’t! You saved me, Em. Can’t you see? I’m breathing because of you. I’m here!”

  “So angry. Beautiful, angry mate. I was dirty before, but you made me clean.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she sucked in a trembling breath. She was so scared. So cold. “Listen to me. I love you. I’ll love you always.”

  Chance hugged her neck and rested his forehead on hers. “I know, baby. I love you so much. You’re good, Em. So good, such a good heart. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

  Em let off an accidental sob at how good it felt to go this way with those words on his lips. “Chance, look for me in the northern lights. When you see them, that’s me. That’s my love for you.”

  “I will.” Chance’s
tears warmed her skin as he buried his face against her neck and bit her, hard and deep.

  It didn’t hurt. Nothing did anymore.

  He eased back and searched her face. “Mine,” he whispered.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Em!” Chance said, holding her wrist tighter.

  Her smile faded as she let off a long breath and rolled her eyes closed.

  “Fuck, Link! Hurry up!”

  Link dropped to his knees beside her body, clutching a trio of syringes. He asked Chance, “Are you sure?”

  “Do it,” he growled out. “Do it now.”

  Link plunged a needle into her neck and emptied the syringe Vera had given him. Emily hadn’t been the only one with secret plans. God, let this work.

  “It’s too much,” Dalton murmured as Link emptied a second syringe into her uninjured arm. “The fox won’t take if she bleeds out first. Roll her over.”

  Chance pulled at her and winced at the long cut across her shoulder blades. Dalton cursed and applied pressure immediately as Link emptied the final syringe into Emily’s thigh.

  “Come on, baby,” Chance gritted out. He angled her face up, held her nose and breathed into her mouth.

  “Adrenaline,” he said between breaths. “See if that asshole used all the adrenaline he brought.”

  Link disappeared in a blur and returned with a backpack that he upended near them. “Two left,” he said. “Should I call Vera and ask her?”

  “No time. Give her one.”

  “Chance—”

  “Link, I’m not losing her! Give her the damned adrenaline!”

  Link slammed the needle into Emily’s leg, and her body tensed.

  “Em, you aren’t done here. You aren’t,” Chance ground out. “Come on! Breathe, baby.” He pushed another breath into her lungs.

  “Chance,” Dalton murmured.

  “Don’t.” Another breath.

  “No, Chance, look.” Dalton angled Em’s shoulders toward him and wiped the blood from the cut across her shoulder blades. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, but it wasn’t because she was empty. The split skin had melded together.

  Chest heaving, Chance dared to take his hand from the slit on her wrist. He wiped it, and it looked the same as her back—closed up.

  “Em,” he murmured. “Em, fight. You’ll be okay if you just fight for a few more minutes. Fight for me! Come back to me.” He hugged her limp body close and rocked her. “I want what you promised. I want a pup with you. I want a life. I want you. Please, Em, just come back.”

  Her body seized in his arms, every muscle tensing as she inhaled a ragged breath. “Fire,” she whispered. “I’m on fire.” Her voice was so small, so scared.

  He hated that she was in more pain, but fire was a good sign. Vera said she had burned when she’d been Turned. She was given the fox without her consent too, just like Em. He felt sick.

  Chance smoothed her hair out of her beautiful face, his relief clashing with the guilt of what he’d done without her permission.

  She went rigid in his arms, head tilted back, face bathed in moonlight. With a gasp, she opened her eyes.

  They weren’t cornflower blue anymore.

  Now, her eyes were gold.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Emily rolled over and winced as bright light hit her closed eyelids. Someone was squeezing her hand. Cracking an eye open, she frowned at Vera, who was rubbing her cheek on Emily’s knuckles like an affectionate cat.

  Chance sat in the corner of her bedroom, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him as he stared at the floor. There were shadows under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept in days.

  “Vera,” she muttered in a hoarse voice. “Why are you snuggling my hand?”

  Vera smiled, her strange-colored blue and gold eyes dancing. “Because,” she whispered, “you’re my Frankenstein.”

  “Vera, don’t be weird about this,” Chance said.

  “My creation,” Vera said, undeterred.

  “Oh, God,” Chance said, standing.

  “I’m your maker.” Vera was petting her hand now. “Can you feel her?”

  “I feel exhausted, like I just ran a marathon.” She looked up at the skylight of her bedroom. “How did I get home?”

  “What do you remember?” Chance asked, kneeling by the bed with such a look of relief, it pulled at her heart.

  Emily closed her eyes to sift through the blurry images. It was like trying to see something through fog. “I remember dying. I remember fire.”

  “That was her,” Vera said. “I’m going to teach you to Change, and to control your animal. You won’t have to struggle like I did. I’ll help you.”

  “I need some time alone with my mate,” Chance said.

  “But I have to teach her—”

  “Her eyes are mostly blue and she smells like flowers, not fur. She’s not Changing right now.”

  “Fine, but I need to say one thing before I go.” Vera snapped her teeth at Chance and gave him a slit-eyed glare. Slowly, she returned her attention back to Emily. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” Now Emily was completely confused.

  “I was Turned against my will, and I swore I would never do that to anyone else. And it turns out I lied.” Vera’s teasing smile was nowhere to be found now, and her eyes filled with emotion. “I gave the fox to Link to put inside you only if you weren’t going to make it. Do you understand? He only used it to save your life.”

  “The fox?” Emily murmured, sitting up in bed as a memory scratched right at the edge of her mind. She gripped her stomach. There was something different. A hollowness that had been filled.

  “You’re like me now, Emily. Like us.”

  “I’m a shifter?”

  Vera nodded sadly, and Chance couldn’t meet her eyes anymore.

  She should feel a well of emotions. Anger maybe, or grief over the loss of her humanity, but none of that was there. She was alive because of the fox. She had a future with the man she loved because of the animal inside of her. “Good,” she whispered.

  Chance’s bright eyes jerked to hers.

  “I picked a side the day I met you,” she murmured. “If I’m like you, that’s okay.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach and swallowed hard. “I can feel her, but I don’t hate her. Vera can teach me.”

  Vera nodded, and a slow smile spread across her face. She patted her leg and then made her way to the door, but turned in the doorway. “Your fox is a beautiful little badass.” Her grin turned megawatt. “You bit everyone.”

  Horrified, Emily asked, “I did?”

  “It’ll take you some getting used to,” Chance said as Vera disappeared. “Your animal was scared, and it’ll take some work to get you in sync, but I’ll be here for you every step of the way. We all will.”

  “You saw my animal?”

  “Yeah, and Vera’s right,” Chance said, pulling her hand away from her stomach. He kissed her knuckles and ducked his gaze. “You’re so beautiful.”

  When her lip trembled, Emily bit down on it so she wouldn’t go to pieces. She cupped his cheek and lifted his eyes so he could see how much she meant her words. “So are you.”

  He nuzzled the blond scruff of his cheek against her palm. “I know what you did for me, Em. You chose to save me at the cost of your own life.”

  “And I’d do it again.”

  Chance kissed the inside of her palm and then sat on the edge of the bed, hugged her to his chest. “Truth,” he murmured.

  She squeezed her eyes tightly closed as his warmth seeped through her. Chance’s existence was vital to hers now. Her last moments as a human drifted back to her in whispers. Chance’s words brushed her heart. He’d bitten her neck. He’d claimed her. I want what you promised. I want a pup with you. I want a life. I want you.

  No longer were they a doomed love story. They weren’t on separate paths anymore. Now, their road was the same and just wide enough for a red fox and a snow-whit
e wolf to maneuver through life together.

  No more darkness, no more Hell Hunters. The last one had been banished from this world by a Dawson werewolf protecting his mate, and the Hell Hunter inside of her had been dismissed the day she had given her heart to Chance.

  His adoration had started this incredible change inside of her.

  Her devotion had altered the path of shifter history.

  And together, their love had saved them both.

  Epilogue

  Chance pulled his new truck to a stop in front of Vera and Tobias’s sprawling log cabin. Evening had cloaked Alaska, streaking the sky behind the cabin with pinks and oranges. The muted lighting was what Lena called “the witching hour.”

  “First family photo all together,” Chance murmured, squeezing her thigh where his hand rested. “Are you ready?”

  Emily hadn’t been able to stop smiling all day. “Is it weird that I’ve been ridiculously excited for this?”

  Lena had already gifted her a big black-and-white photo of the day she’d met them all at Smiley’s Bar. In it, she and Chance were dancing, grins beaming. Emily had been looking right at the camera, her hair swaying as she danced, but her favorite part of the photograph that now hung over their bed was the look on Chance’s face. His eyes were soft and locked on Emily, as if he was already hers.

  And now she would be a part of this year’s family picture with the Galena pack and the Silvers. It wasn’t lost on her what an honor it was that she’d been accepted by these people who had each brought such light into her heart over the past seven months.

  This would be the picture that would hang over their fireplace for years to come.

  “Come here,” Chance murmured, hand gentle on the back of her neck. He pulled her in slowly and kissed her. And when he eased back, he wore that same smile he had in the picture over their bed, the one that said his heart belonged to her.

  God, she loved him more than anything.

  Out the front window, everyone was gathering in front of Tobias’s front porch, while Lena fiddled with a camera on a tripod.