Touch the Sky

by Kari Cole

  “Come on,” the guard said. “I’m not dying for two rats like you.” He started running, his big feet making a lot of noise in the tunnel.

  Cool air blew in their faces, and 617 stumbled. “Get up. Come on,” the lion said, panic making his voice higher.

  “I’ll help her,” 622 said.

  “Yeah. Do that,” the guard said. He let go of them and started running toward the end of the tunnel, toward the overwhelming scents of grass, water, and maple trees.

  622 wrapped an arm around her waist and she did the same. They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to.

  Without the guard dragging them, constantly knocking them off balance, they were faster. Much faster, and before they reached the end of the tunnel, they’d caught up to the lion.

  The tunnel ended in a grassy field and 622 stared at it in shock. It was dark. Clouds covered the sky and blotted out the moon. But he could feel her, the goddess of the night sky. She called to him, and his cougar purred.

  If they took just one more step, they would be outside.

  Outside. Outside. Outside. The word pounded in his head like a drum.

  Before them and to the left were darker shadows. His beast showed him pictures of things they thought they’d dreamed: trees.

  Engines rumbled and a slow, deep chopping noise came from the right. In the distance, red taillights moved away from them.

  622 and 617 moved as one. He went high for the throat, and she went low for the tendons at the backs of the knees.

  The lion screamed. A high-pitched, pathetic sound that 622 stopped with a twitch of his fingers on the larynx, crushing it.

  They rode the guard’s body down to the damp concrete floor. He thrashed and bucked, but it didn’t help. In his eyes, 622 saw his surprise. Stupid bully had forgotten they were all predators here.

  A while ago, 622 had made himself a promise: that he would survive. And one day, he would look this bastard, and all the others, square in the face as he made them pay.

  As he and 617 loped off into the cool underbrush and the welcoming embrace of the woods, he decided he liked keeping his promises.

  * * * * *

  Stay tuned for the next book

  in the Mated by Fate series,

  Stalk the Shadows,

  coming in January 2019!

  Now available from Carina Press and Kari Cole.

  Werewolves can’t be trusted,

  and Izzy should know...she is one.

  Read on for an excerpt from

  Hunt the Moon.

  Who would have thought being the Alpha of a pack of werewolves would involve so much paperwork?

  Luke Wyland glared at the stack of folders on the scuffed table in front of him. Dragging his hands through his short, dark hair, he rubbed the knot at the base of his skull, a gesture he remembered his father doing hundreds of times as he sat behind his desk, surrounded by piles of papers. Now Luke understood why.

  A truck rumbled into the lot outside the office of Townes Aviation. Almost as soon as the engine cut off, the door slammed shut with enough force to make Luke wonder if it’d ever open again. Footsteps stomped across the parking lot and down the hall.

  His cousin, Dean, barged into the conference room still wearing his deputy sheriff’s uniform and a scowl. Fifteen months ago, before four of their packmates—including Dean’s sister and Luke’s father—were murdered, that expression would have been uncharacteristic of the big male’s laid-back nature. Now it threatened to become a permanent fixture.

  Not bothering with a greeting, Dean stalked to the minifridge, grabbed a beer, and downed it in a few gulps. He grunted and pulled out another.

  “Bad day?” Luke asked.

  “We’ve got another missing person.”

  The hair on Luke’s nape rose like his beast’s hackles. “Who?”

  “A human. Eric Conroy.”

  “The county clerk? I just called him yesterday to get some property transfer information.”

  “What time was that?”

  “About one o’clock,” Luke said. “He didn’t answer, though. I left a message.”

  “Well, Conroy’s wife called this morning when she woke up and realized the guy’d never come home last night. No one’s seen him since he left work yesterday.” Dean flung himself into a chair that creaked under his muscular bulk. “I’ve got a bad feeling. With everything that’s been going on...”

  Luke had a bad feeling, too. “That’s five missing now,” he said, not bothering to suppress a growl.

  Black Robe, Montana, wasn’t a big town, but the county held close to twenty thousand people. One missing person wouldn’t be that unusual. People got lost in the mountains. Cars went off roads. Sometimes people simply decided to get out of Dodge. But this was no ordinary county. Here they had a pack. And the pack could find anything in their territory. Yet they’d found no sign of the logger who went missing seven months ago. Or the two female hikers who vanished a month later. Or even the lifelong resident who sold all his land just after New Year’s Day and disappeared without a word to his three children.

  “Yeah.” Dean rubbed a hand over his face. “I think you should expect a call from the sheriff asking for the pack’s trackers if the guy doesn’t turn up by tomorrow.”

  Luke looked out the window. Shadows stretched across the tarmac. It’d be full dark in another hour. “Call them and have them ready to go at first light.” As his Beta—Luke’s second-in-command—the job fell to Dean. “No one searches alone. I mean it, Dean. Not even you.” If someone or something was hunting in their territory, he wouldn’t let his wolves be easy targets.

  Luke wanted to ask how things were going with the new sheriff, but the click of high heels on linoleum drew his attention to the door. Beautiful in a fancy black suit, Rissa Townes strode into the tiny conference room of her family’s aviation company.

  The smile faded from her lips as she sniffed the air. “Why do you both smell so anxious?”

  “We’ve got another missing person,” Luke said, pushing away from the table and walking over to the bank of windows.

  “Seriously?” Rissa snatched the beer out of his hand, opened it, and sipped while they filled her in. She paced the short length of the room, her scent growing bitter with worry and frustration. “Got to say, I hope the man is just off having an affair or something, and slinks home tonight.”

  “Yeah.” Not with their luck. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his khakis and stared out the window. Machinery whined and clanked in the hangar kitty-corner from them. A mechanic in blue-gray coveralls crossed the patched and pitted tarmac. A long orange wind sock undulated in the breeze.

  “So, why are we meeting here?” Dean finally asked, sounding exhausted. He scowled at Luke’s papers. “Please, God, tell me we don’t have to read any more environmental impact statements. My eyes almost fell out last time.”

  “They’re not that bad,” Rissa said.

  “Yes, they really are.” Dean flicked the edge of a particularly thick file. “This is torture. And you’re a sadist for making me look at these damn things.”

  A slow grin spread across Rissa’s face. “Hmm...think I can make Freddie call me Mistress?”

  Dean made retching noises while Luke mentally filed that little tidbit away to torture Rissa’s mate with at an opportune time. It was only fair, since Freddie had made it his mission in life to irritate Luke. Damn human.

  Luke leaned a hip against the windowsill. “Don’t worry, Dean. I’m done with paperwork for the day. Rissa’s waiting on Freddie. He flew down to Missoula to pick up his sister, and Ris is such a sap, she can’t stand to wait an extra twenty minutes for her mate to drive home.”

  “Hey!” Rissa said.

  Some of that unnatural tightness drained from Dean’s features. “Can’t be helped, darlin’. It’s the curse of the mated—
no matter how long you’ve been together.” His grin spread into the full, satisfied smile it always did whenever he spoke about his mate, Sarah. He turned an assessing eye on Luke. “I can’t wait for you to find your mate. Then we’ll see who’s a sap.”

  Laughing, Rissa hiked herself up onto the wide window ledge. “Oh, that poor female, whoever she is. I hope she likes a bossy wolf in her business all day and night.”

  Luke scowled. “I am not bossy. I’m confident.”

  Rissa laughed harder, and Dean’s booming guffaws echoed in the small room.

  A lot of Alphas wouldn’t allow their subordinates to make jokes at their expense, but Dean and Rissa had been his closest friends since they were kids. Besides, levity had been in short supply lately.

  Plus, he wouldn’t mind having someone special to race home to every night, too.

  God, he was a sap already.

  The distant chop of a helicopter’s blades had Rissa jumping down from her perch on the windowsill and straightening her skirt. Then she smoothed her blouse and patted her hair. “Come on,” she said over her shoulder as she walked to the door.

  Rissa, nervous? That was new. Luke sent a questioning look to his cousin. Dean shrugged as they followed in her wake.

  “So, Ris,” Luke said. “Is Freddie’s sister really a combat pilot?”

  She didn’t look at him as she pushed through the door to the tarmac. “She flew a Blackhawk in Iraq. Just like Freddie.”

  “Army, right?”

  Rissa ignored him. As she walked toward the landing pad, her voice drifted back to them. “Goddess, please let her like me.”

  Luke’s eyebrows crept to his hairline.

  Dean shrugged again. “Meeting the in-laws is nerve-racking business, even if it’s only a sister.”

  The sun was just beginning to set on a cold but beautiful day. Luke breathed in the scent of their territory: the clean bite of snow off the looming Cabinet Mountains, lodgepole pine, Rocky Mountain maple, and spruce. Home.

  The responsibility of caring for it and the people who lived here weighed on him. His father would tell him it’s what an Alpha does—he worries and comforts, manages and directs. And when that doesn’t work, he knocks heads.

  His father wouldn’t have rested until each one of the missing humans was accounted for. And Luke wouldn’t either. It was the least he could do to honor his dad.

  Grief pummeled him as he thought of his father and the others they’d lost. The memory of their torn and bloodied bodies, half-buried under the snow, tossed away like garbage, shredded him every day. Fury at his inability to find their murderers sent Luke’s blood racing. Within the confines of his body, his wolf snarled.

  We’ll avenge our dead, he told his wolf. And protect our territory and pack.

  No matter how long it took or what it cost them.

  * * *

  “Wow,” Izzy said in breathless wonder as the helicopter floated over another rugged, snow-covered peak that sparkled in the sun. The frozen surface of a lake shimmered like opals, its edges blurred by a snowy blanket.

  “Told ya. You should see that in the summer. It’s surrounded by wildflowers.” The headset’s mechanical hiss couldn’t hide the smug satisfaction in Freddie’s voice.

  From the corner of her eye, she noticed him staring at her. “What?”

  “Damn, it’s good to see you, Iz.”

  She gave him a tremulous smile. “You, too.”

  Freddie was so much more than simply another parentless kid who’d shared a foster home with her. In every way that mattered, he was her brother.

  “I can’t wait for you to meet Rissa,” he said.

  Butterflies kamikazed her stomach. What if she hated the woman he’d chosen to marry? Or worse, what if Rissa hated her?

  “Me, too,” she lied.

  A loud rumble, audible over the chop of the rotor, sounded in the cockpit. Eyes wide, she slapped a hand over her stomach as it cramped with hunger. What the hell? Less than an hour ago, she’d eaten enough for two Chicago Bears linemen. She should have a major food baby. But lately, no matter how much or how often she ate, she could not satisfy the bottomless pit of her appetite.

  And it was getting worse.

  Another growl erupted.

  “Whoa, you’re not gonna get sick or something, are you?” Wide-eyed, Freddie looked at her over the rim of his aviator sunglasses. “You can’t be hungry. That foo-foo burger was the size of your head.”

  She rolled her eyes at his teasing. “Tofu.”

  “Whatever. I don’t think you were meant to be a vegetarian. You’re nothing but skin and bones. When I hugged you at the airport, I thought you’d managed to sneak a razor past security. Nope, just your hipbones. Seriously, Mom is gonna take one look at you and fly straight into mother hen mode.”

  “Umm...” Hell, he was right. Their foster mother, Abby, was a force of nature, a tidal wave that swamped people with her care. “Shit.”

  Freddie snorted. “No worries, we’ll fatten you up a bit before Mom and Dad get here. Rissa always makes a ton of food. There’ll be enough for everyone, even with your monster appetite.”

  Monster. Unease bubbled like acid in her empty belly. “Uh, how many people we talking here?”

  “Tonight, just a few. Our close friends, Rissa’s family. It’ll give you a chance to get to know everyone.” He gave her a sheepish look. “Hope you don’t mind. They want to meet you.”

  Sure. That was normal. Someone marries into your family, you meet theirs. Like average joes. Right?

  Too bad Izzy was anything but normal or average.

  Her stomach cramped again. Damn it. She would not let her bullshit ruin Freddie’s party. Besides, she never could deny him anything. She’d have to get over her stupid hysteria. Sucking in a long breath, she willed her stomach to shut the hell up.

  “Sounds like fun.” There, that almost sounded relaxed—enthused, even.

  “Liar,” her brother said.

  Guess she’d have to work on the happy-happy.

  “Sorry,” Freddie said. “I know you hate parties, but Rissa is like Mom when it comes to this kind of thing. She thinks any small get-together requires twenty people.”

  Yay, party time. She kept the sarcasm to herself when she said, “It’s fine. So, when are Hank and Abby coming in?” It’d been almost a year since she’d seen their foster parents.

  “Friday afternoon.”

  “Okay. Listen, it’s really nice of you to invite me to stay with you,” she said. “But you’re getting married next weekend. You don’t want me hanging around all the time. Rissa must have a million things to do, and you know I’m no good at that girly stuff. I’ll be fine at a hotel.”

  He didn’t even look at her when he said, “Nope.”

  “Freddie—”

  “Nope. As in no, nada, ain’t happening. You agreed to be my best man. We have big plans to make for my bachelor party and almost no time. I expect serious debauchery here.”

  She rubbed a hand over her face. “You do realize I’m a girl, right?”

  He did a cartoon-worthy double take. “That’s what the guys said. Told ’em that was just a low-down, dirty lie. You’re one of us.”

  She waved a hand at her chest. “And the boobs are what?”

  He cringed as if in pain. “Lalalala. There are no boobs.”

  “Yeah? One is flying this aircraft right now.”

  They flew in companionable silence for a while, soaring through the open turquoise sky. Sunlight warmed the cockpit and painted the pristine snow with a golden glow. An eagle launched from the branches of a tall pine and swooped over a ragged cliff, to glide down into the valley below. Her muscles relaxed bit by bit as she imagined the bird’s freedom as her own. God, she loved flying. It was her only refuge, the one place where the memories and fears didn’t take o
ver.

  Sometimes, on the ground, she lost the ability to breathe, panic seizing her lungs. She avoided crowds and sat with walls at her back so no one could sneak up on her. Sudden and inexplicable anger would pound through her veins, make her want to rage at the world. Nightmares woke her every night. And, dear God, the hunger. That, more than anything else, terrified her.

  Because she knew what drove that constant craving—

  “We’re getting there,” Freddie said.

  Izzy jumped. “What?” He turned to look at her. She tried for nonchalance. “Hmm?”

  Freddie caught her gaze. “When was the last time you spoke to someone? A professional?”

  Please. Any shrink with an ounce of competency would lock her up.

  “Come on, Iz. Between our childhoods, the war... Bess... You need to talk about things.”

  Bess. Tears filled her eyes. Sighing, she leaned against the cool window. Her problems went way beyond PTSD or a dead sister.

  “It’s not that simple, Freddie.” She held up a hand before he could interject. “I’ll think about it. Okay?”

  “Yeah. All right.” He nodded at the cabins nestled among the trees. In the distance, more structures became visible. “Only a few more miles.”

  Freddie guided the glossy Bell toward the airfield. The helipad sat on the edge near two gray-sided hangars and a squat office building. As he adjusted their angle of descent over the postage-stamp airfield, a tall blonde in black darted out the office door and shielded her eyes from the dust whipped up by the rotor wash.

  “Ah. There’s my girl,” he said.

  Izzy had never heard that tone from him. The love and longing in his voice awed her and a mammoth wave of protectiveness rose inside. This woman better be worthy of her brother.

  The Bell touched down with a slight bump. Rissa waited twenty feet away as Freddie rushed through the shutdown procedures. The draft from the rotors blew tendrils of hair around her delicate face. She waved, flicking a quick smile at Izzy. Izzy waved back, telling her territorial inner bitch to pipe down. She was going to make this perfect for Freddie.

  And her creepy appetite and special brand of crazy were not invited.