Mate Marked: Shifters of Silver Peak

by Georgette St. Clair

  Roman nuzzled against her throat, then sank his teeth into the soft flesh. A quick, sharp pain, then a wave of bliss washed over her and she came, over and over again, sobbing with sensation and love and relief as Roman drove inside her, teeth locked in her throat, tremors of sensation racking him until he stilled and groaned, releasing her from his mouth. He thrust once more, his face drawn in lines of agonized bliss, then howled his release, clutching at her damp skin, wild and utterly lost in her body.

  Later, as he tenderly kissed the fresh Mate-Mark on her neck, soothing the bitten and bruised flesh with delicate brushes of his lips, she stroked the smooth skin of his back, heart full with the knowledge that for the first time in her life she’d found somewhere she truly belonged. With him.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Something off about the death scene… The dried blood on the chief’s body, the congealed pool on the ground…

  She knew how to prove she’d been set up.

  Chelsea sat bolt upright, and the blanket fell off of her. Peering through the vines that covered the cave entrance, she could see that it was still dark out. The cave was dimly lit by a battery-operated lantern. Next to her, Roman stirred.

  Her Mate Mark still tingled and ached. She reached up and stroked it lightly with her fingers, just to reassure herself that it was real.

  “Morning,” Roman mumbled into his pillow.

  “I just thought of something,” she said.

  “How incredibly happy you are to be mated to me, the handsomest Alpha in the West?” Roman sat up too, yawning.

  “Yeah, yeah, that too,” she said impatiently. Roman tossed the covers off himself, looking insulted.

  “Is the honeymoon over already?” he asked with mock hurt.

  She flashed him a brief smile and touched her Mate Mark again. “It will never be over. If we survive this, I plan to misbehave on a regular basis, which means you will be forced to think up ever more creative ways to punish me.”

  “I’m down with that. How about right now? You just mildly offended your Alpha and your mate. That calls for at least a spanking.”

  “Listen, this is important. Something just occurred to me. When I found the chief’s body last night, the blood around his body was mostly congealed. And the blood on his body was completely dried and crusted over. That would take a couple of hours, I’d think. Could you scent how long he’d been dead?”

  “At least three or four hours.”

  “Well, that’s interesting. He sent me a text about forty-five minutes before I arrived at the parking lot,” Chelsea said. “Or somebody did, using his phone.”

  “There is absolutely no way he was alive when that text was sent.” Roman said, his tone going grim.

  “Well,” Chelsea mused, “I spoke to the chief on the phone earlier in the day, and he was going to tell me something interesting about the license plate of a car that had been parked in Mitch Rodgers’ driveway. Before he could tell me, Officer Porter interrupted him. So we can’t talk to anybody in the Juniper police department.”

  “Not like I’d trust the human police department anyway,” Roman said.

  Chelsea frowned in thought. “The town of Juniper will already have the chief’s body back at their morgue. They might have accidentally, or deliberately, washed Porter’s scent off of his body before a shifter investigator could get to it…or they could try to claim that of course his scent was on the body, because they worked together. But they can’t conceal the time of death, and they can’t change the time that text was sent.”

  “True. It’s just a matter of who we can trust to do a fair investigation.” Roman scowled. “I don’t place a lot of faith in human authorities.”

  “If we can just tell someone about the text coming to me when the chief was already dead, we’ll be in the clear as soon as they verify it,” Chelsea said. “We just have to stay alive long enough to tell someone about it. Right now, the police don’t have any reason to investigate too much, because they’re pinning it on us. But if we contact the Council for Shifter Affairs and tell them about the text message, then a full investigation will be launched.”

  “Unfortunately, yeah, that’s probably our best option. We need to find a safe place to go to call them, though. We can’t go into Silver Peak, or back to my pack,” Roman pointed out. “There will be law enforcement watching.”

  “Hey,” Chelsea suggested. “We’re actually pretty close to Joyce’s house, and nobody would think of looking for us there. I bet she’d let us use her phone if we explained the situation to her. This pretty much points back to Mitch Rodgers, and I know she can’t stand him. She’d be glad to help get rid of him.”

  They ate a hasty breakfast of granola bars and washed it down with bottled water.

  Then they rolled up their clothing, stuffed it into a bag and shifted. Roman carried the bag in his jaws as they raced through the woods.

  When they reached the Dudleys’ property, they changed into their clothes and strolled into the yard.

  Joyce was standing by the clothes line in the front yard, hanging up towels. Chelsea paused. Something was wrong. Joyce’s whole body radiated tension.

  Joyce looked over and spotted them, with a look of surprise. They started walking towards her. She just stood there, staring at them, not moving, not saying a word.

  “Hold it. I scent Mitch Rodgers and Officer Porter,” Roman said, stopping in his tracks.

  It was too late. The two humans stepped out of the front door—guns aimed at Chelsea and Roman.

  “Silver-coated bullets,” Roman said grimly. “I can scent it.”

  Joyce started crying. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “But they’ve got my brothers held hostage inside. I couldn’t warn you, or he’d kill them.”

  “Get over here, now,” Mitch called out from the doorway.

  “Do as he says for now,” Roman said. “When I get closer to them, I can take them out, and you need to run for it.”

  Chelsea didn’t bother to argue; they didn’t have time. But when Roman made his move, she’d also attack. Joyce and her family might have a chance that way.

  “What is this all about?” Chelsea demanded of Joyce as they headed for the house.

  Tears ran down Joyce’s face. “Mitch wants the shifters’ land,” she sniffled, wiping at her nose with her arm. “He’s got some crazy idea that he’s going to open up a hotel here. He said something about those mineral springs that sprang up a year ago—how they’re healing springs. He’s had the water tested and everything, and he’s got some company from California ready to give him millions. He just needs to frame the shifters so he can get their land.”

  They’d reached the doorway of the house.

  “Shut up! Don’t tell them anything else,” Mitch growled.

  “Why not? You’re going to kill us anyway,” Chelsea said angrily.

  “True,” Mitch said with an ugly smirk.

  Joyce flashed Chelsea a look of despair. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I should have warned you. I should have said something.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Chelsea said, shaking her head.

  Inside the house, Ryan and Shawn stood in the hallway with Edna. The boys’ hands were bound with zip-ties. There was dirt on their faces, and they looked pale and tired.

  As they walked in, Chelsea heard the sound of howling and snarling coming from the pantry.

  Mitch slammed the front door shut and locked it.

  “Wolves,” Chelsea said. “Wild wolves.”

  “Those are the wolves you used to kill the sheep. And Chief Tomlinson,” Roman said.“I killed the chief,” Porter said smugly. “Just used the wolves to add the final finishing touch.”

  Roman tensed, and Chelsea held her breath. He was going to make his move now.

  I’ll die mated to the man I love, she thought to herself. If only they’d had more time together.

  Before Roman could do anything, Edna left her grandsons’ side and walked up to him with a pleasant sm
ile.

  “Oh, I do love having guests. Can I make you some tea, dear?” she said to Roman. She walked even closer until she was right up against him, staring at him with a quizzical look, and then leaned in close and murmured something to him, too low for anyone to hear.

  Then she turned and wandered off, humming happily to herself. Rodgers hesitated. He was holding the gun on Joyce; he moved, aiming it at Edna, and then when Joyce stepped in front of her brothers, he quickly aimed the gun at her again. Porter kept his gun pointed at Roman.

  “Get back here, you old bitch!” Rodgers screamed at Edna, but she kept walking down the hall, and turned a corner, heading into the kitchen.

  “I’ll go shoot her,” Porter said to Rodgers.

  “No,” Rodgers said. “That’ll look suspicious. It’s got to be the wolves that take her out. Don’t worry, she won’t get far.”

  Porter glanced over at Roman. “Stay where you are,” he ordered him. His gun was aimed right at Roman’s head.

  “The rest of you. Into the bedroom. Now,” Mitch snapped.

  As they were led off, Chelsea looked over at Roman, and he gave her a slight nod.

  He was planning something.

  Mitch hustled Joyce and her brothers and Chelsea down another hallway and into a bedroom. It looked as if it was the boys’ bedroom; there were bunkbeds with blue plaid blankets, a battered old wooden desk, and a telescope in the corner.

  He stood in the doorway as they walked in.

  Chelsea flashed an involuntary glance at the bedroom window.

  “I nailed it shut,” Mitch sneered. “Sure, you could pry it open. If you had time. But five minutes from now, you’ll all by dead. Or dying.”

  “No! Not my family!” Joyce cried out, frantic. “You said you wouldn’t hurt my grandmother and brothers if I did what you told me!”

  Mitch bared his jagged teeth in an ugly grin. “And you said you’d like to get to know me better. And you said you weren’t sweet on that shifter Paul. We both know those were lies, don’t we?”

  “What are you going to do to us?” Joyce’s face was pale and her voice trembled. Chelsea glared at Mitch with murder in her eyes, but he ignored her and spoke to Joyce.

  “Those wolves you hear howling? No food for a week. They’re going to tear you to pieces. And your grandmother. Then I’m going to shoot Roman. Then I’m going to set up the scene just right, so they’ll know it was shifters, and this time you little bastards won’t be alive to mess things up for me.” He said that last bit to Ryan and Shawn. Then he stepped out and slammed the door.

  As soon as the door closed, Joyce ran over to the desk, grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the zip ties on the boy’s hands.

  As she freed them, Chelsea ran to the window and desperately tried to push it up.

  “When I get the window open, you boys are going to run,” she said to Ryan and Shawn.

  “We’re not leaving you,” Ryan said stubbornly. Shawn burst into tears.

  “Are wolves going to eat you? I don’t want wolves to eat you,” Shawn cried.

  Joyce looked around the room for something to smash the glass with. She grabbed a heavy hardcover book and hurried over to the window.

  And they heard gunshots and screams of pain.

  It wasn’t Roman screaming. It was Officer Porter.

  Footsteps pounded down the hallway, and Roman flung the door open and quickly ushered Edna in. The confused expression was gone from her face. She was holding a revolver, and her eyes were blazing with triumph. Roman held a gun too; it appeared he’d taken Porter’s gun.

  “What’s happening?” Chelsea asked, stepping in front of Joyce and her brothers.

  “I shot that bastard Porter right in the family jewels,” Edna said with a satisfied smile. She held up the gun. “Your daddy’s pistol. Kept it hidden in my room in case of emergency.”

  They heard the baying and howling of the wild wolves, and then Porter’s screams of agony rose higher and higher.

  “Looks like Mitch released the wolves. Thought it would slow me down,” Roman said. He shrugged. “Never met a wolf I couldn’t handle. Chelsea, stay here and keep an eye on the ladies. Don’t argue,” he added sternly. “Wait for me.”

  He left the room, and they watched through the window as he ran outside. Mitch had climbed into his pickup truck and was driving off in a hurry. Roman aimed at the truck and shot out both tires. Half a dozen wolves raced out the front door and surrounded Roman, but they didn’t harm him; they stood by his side, howling.

  Mitch’s truck spun out of control, skidded on the dirt road and landed on its side. It lay there, tires spinning. The driver’s side door flung open and Mitch stuck his head out. Blood was streaming down his face, and as soon as he spotted Roman and the wolves howling by his side, he ducked back into the truck and pulled the door shut.

  “I’ll go call the police,” Chelsea said, heading for the door.

  “You can’t,” Joyce called after her. “Mitch cut the phone lines and set up a signal jammer so I couldn’t use my cell phone either.”

  “All right then. We’ll just wait for Roman to take Mitch prisoner, and then we can drive into town,” Chelsea said. “In the meantime, let’s get some food for those wolves.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Mitch lay by the side of the road, trussed up like a turkey, screaming threats and promises and pleas for mercy. He’d make them all millionaires! Multi-millionaires! He’d give them anything they wanted!

  They ignored him.

  They stood on the front porch, outside the house. Roman had found the signal jammer and disabled it, and they’d called the Council for Shifter Affairs. At this point, they didn’t want to deal with the Juniper police department. State Police had been notified and were on their way.

  Chelsea was still shaken. She leaned on Roman, who had his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders.

  “What’s going to happen to those wolves?” Ryan asked. The wolves had been fed, and Roman had locked them back up inside the house. They’d followed him around in postures of submission; they could sense an Alpha, even one in shifter form.

  “They’ll be treated by a vet, and then the Department of Fish and Game will release them in a wilderness area,” Chelsea said. “We’ll make sure of it.”

  “Forget that,” Joyce said impatiently, fixing her gaze on her grandmother. “What exactly is going on with you? Talk. Now.”

  “Those mineral springs, dear,” Edna said. “They were good for more than my arthritis. Ever since I started soaking in them, my head started clearing up.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?” Joyce demanded.

  “Oh, I was going to get around to it, sooner or later. But it’s amazing how much people will say and do in front of an old lady when they think she’s addled,” Edna said cheerfully. “I’ve been having fun with it.” Then she cast a severe look at her two grandsons. “I’m on to you,” she said to them. “No more sneaking into the kitchen at two a.m. for thirds on dessert.”

  Joyce gasped indignantly.

  They both pretended to be looking at something off in the distance, and Shawn started whistling, hands stuck in his pockets.

  “Speaking of sneaking off, you never told me why you went and destroyed the evidence that Mitch was trying to plant,” Joyce said to her brothers.

  Shawn glanced over at Roman. “It was to protect the shifters. Paul and Leland. They were coming onto our property in the middle of the night and fixing things. They put up new fence, and they fixed the chicken coop, and they killed the fox that was eating our chickens. We saw them.”

  “Those sneaky bas— uh, bass fishers,” Roman stopped himself just in time. “That’s why they were always tired in the morning. That’s where they were going at night.”

  “Paul likes my sister,” Shawn added. “He made me promise not to tell. He said they had to leave town soon, so he couldn’t ask her out on a date. I wish he could stay, though. He was going to teach me how to use a bow a
nd arrow.”

  “He may still get the chance,” Roman said. “I’m going to be talking to my pack. I get the feeling that they’d like to stick around here for a while. Maybe permanently.”

  Chelsea nodded, squeezing his hand.

  They’d stay here. They’d have a house here. Together.

  “You know what else is fixed up? My arthritis. It’s just about gone. I can skip around like a first-grader,” Edna said. She demonstrated, skipping across the lawn.

  “Still a little touched in the head,” Joyce whispered.

  “And my hearing is perfect!” Edna called out to her, shooting an annoyed look in her granddaughter’s direction.

  Mitch’s screams had died out to despairing wails. They still ignored him.

  Edna did a cartwheel across the lawn, and Ryan and Shawn ran over to join her, whooping and hollering. “If those mineral springs can really do all that…” Joyce marveled. “Think of how many people they could help.”

  “You’re sitting on a fortune,” Chelsea told her. “And for that matter, so is the town of Silver Peak, since the springs are partly on their land. Everyone in the world will want to come here. My God, everybody’s problems are solved. You’re rich. The pack is rich.”

  “You could go back to being sheriff and earn a real salary,” Roman mused.

  “Oh dear God, no. But once business starts coming back, somebody could afford to hire me as a baker,” Chelsea said.

  “In the meantime, you’ll get to enjoy the taste of powdered eggs and wild rabbit. And the joys of camp life.” Roman squeezed her shoulders, then looked down at her anxiously. “Won’t you?”

  She leaned back. “Home is where you are,” she said. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  * * * * *

  Three months later…

  The soft opening of Wintergreen’s Bakery was a wild success. The entire pack was in attendance, as well as all the new townspeople who’d swarmed to Silver Peak when the news about the mineral springs had come out, and the construction workers who were building new hotels and a massive resort right next to the springs. It was like the gold rush of the 1800s. The town had sprung back to life, and every business was bustling with customers from early morning to late at night.