Fugitive Mate (Silverlake Shifters Book 1)

by Anastasia Wilde

  By the time he had some damn clothes, he was simmering with suppressed rage. When he caught up with her, he was going to scare the living shit out of her so bad she’d never steal another guy’s pants as long as she lived.

  He stalked over to the office and paid his bill, glowering at the front desk clerk, who was still smirking. At least she’d left his credit cards and ATM card. She’d even left most of his cash, just to mock him for that crack he’d made last night about stealing his wallet. She’d left the wallet and taken every other fucking thing he owned.

  But he’d have the last laugh. First, though, he had to find her car.

  It was 6 a.m. by this time, and the number of cars parked over by the bar had thinned out considerably from the night before. Jace started at the door to the bar, trying to pick up her scent. Too bad he couldn’t shift; it would make his job a lot easier. But he had to go human.

  Her scent was obliterated near the door, overlaid by too many people coming and going, not to mention the fact that someone had vomited in the bushes just outside the door. Jace wrinkled his nose. He began to pace back and forth, in wider and wider arcs, until he picked up that tantalizing scent. It was faint, but it was there. He followed, threading his way between cars and pickups, losing it a few times and then picking it up again.

  Finally he found her car, tucked away in a corner of the lot. A nondescript silver Chevy Malibu, with the Lying Hellcat’s scent all over it.

  Jackpot.

  Jace thought for a moment, then jogged over to the store and bought supplies. Disgusting microwave breakfast sandwiches for his rumbling stomach. An extra-large coffee. Some tools, a disposable prepaid cell phone, and a few other miscellaneous items that might come in handy.

  Then he went back to the Malibu in its shadowy corner of the parking lot, broke into it, and proceeded to hotwire the ignition.

  Some days it paid to have a misspent youth.

  Jace drove down the highway for half an hour before he pulled off to check out the car, just in case anyone at the truck stop had noticed his lack of keys or legal ownership of it and contacted the authorities. When no one seemed to be following him, he figured it was safe to stop.

  There was nothing much inside the car—just a few fast food wrappers. The trunk was empty, except for a toolbox and a spare tire. So that bag was all the luggage she had.

  He checked the glove compartment. The car was registered to a Michael Ortiz in Tulsa, Oklahoma. So, the crazy ex from California story was a lie. It wasn’t a surprise, but he did find his stomach sinking a little at the revelation. He realized that part of him still hoped she’d been telling the truth.

  That she’d felt something for him last night, a bit of the connection he’d felt. Even if they were strangers.

  Okay, she’d come from Tulsa. What was she doing in Colorado? Was she just conning her way across the United States, seducing a guy every time she wanted a new ride? Then why had she chosen him? A motorcycle wasn’t exactly the most comfortable way to travel cross-country. He and Rafe and Jesse loved their bikes—the feeling was as close as they could get to traveling as wolves. He hated being closed inside a car for long distances—they all did. It felt like riding in a metal coffin. But most people, even if they knew how to ride, hesitated to travel long distances on a motorcycle.

  So why pick on him? Why take the bike? Did she think a biker was less likely to call the cops? Or what?

  “Where are you heading, Darlene?” he murmured.

  As if in answer to his question, his eyes fell on the Malibu’s GPS. He flicked it on, and there was her route, marked off with a helpful blue line. It began in Tulsa, presumably where she had left Mr. Ortiz. Probably without his pants. The line passed through Colorado—the place Jace was sitting right now—and continued through Wyoming and beyond.

  Wherever she was going, she wasn’t there yet.

  He touched the screen, moving the map to see the endpoint of the route.

  Cascade, Idaho.

  Jace gave a low whistle. His lying little hellcat did have a specific destination in mind. And it was within spitting distance of Silverlake Mountain.

  Chapter 10

  Emma rode for three more hours before she decided she had to get rid of the bike. First, because it was going to be too risky to take such a distinctive motorcycle into a small mountain town where Jace was probably well known.

  A guy who looked like him wasn’t exactly invisible.

  And second, because she’d never make it there on the bike without a long rest. She’d ridden motorcycles before, but never for so long at highway speeds. Jace’s Harley was bigger and heavier than she was used to, and her arms were already starting to shake from holding it steady. Not to mention that her ass was sore. Plus, all that rumbling power between her legs was reminding her too much of last night, and what she’d left behind.

  Visions of Jace’s muscular shoulders and taut belly flashed through her mind. His lips on her, him sliding between her legs…

  Stop that, Emma. There are other hot guys in the world. Let this one go.

  She saw a sign for a campground and decided to pull off there. Maybe she could find a safe place to leave the bike, and get a message to Jace to pick it up. Then she wouldn’t feel quite so guilty.

  She knew she should pick a more populated place, where it would be easier to find another ride. Preferably one belonging to an asshole like Michael Ortiz, who deserved to have his car stolen.

  Or even somebody to hitch a ride with. She hadn’t seen any of Alexander’s men since last night. Maybe it wouldn’t be too dangerous for her to catch rides, if she kept them short.

  A bone-deep exhaustion swept over her as she putt-putted down the bumpy service road towards the campground. She was so tired. Tired of running. Tired of looking over her shoulder. Tired of being alone. Tired of conning guys just to take advantage of them. That wasn’t who she was.

  The campground was a big one, with cabins as well as sites for tent camping and RVs. It was also almost empty. She should have expected that, she realized—it was a Sunday afternoon in early spring, and the few weekenders were all gone.

  Now what was she going to do?

  It wasn’t until she was heading back out the main entrance that she glanced further down the service road and saw the sign. ‘Eagle’s Nest Road House.’

  Food. And maybe, just maybe, some random person heading towards Idaho. It was worth a shot.

  For once, luck was on her side. She’d parked the motorcycle behind the campground office and walked back, just to confuse her trail. When she got inside the roadhouse, there was a guy named Barry sitting at the bar having lunch, who was happy to start up a conversation with her, even without her flashing her boobs at him. In fact, she suspected that would have scared him off. He was a very nerdy, very serious little guy who quite possibly had never seen a set of naked boobs since his mother had stopped breast-feeding him.

  After telling her all the ways in which he was a superior and well-prepared hiker and camper—who nevertheless was staying in a cabin and not a tent—he let drop that he was leaving the campground after lunch and heading west on Route 80. Perfect.

  When he heard Emma’s semi-fictional story about her leaving her possessive ex and her car breaking down, he mansplained to her all the things she should have done, but then agreed that there was no place to get the fictional car fixed around here on a Sunday. So he’d take her up the highway to where she was going to meet her fictional brother, as long as she was willing to chip in for gas.

  Very generous. At least he didn’t seem to be expecting her to give him a taste of booty to pay for the ride.

  After lunch she walked back to the campground with him so he could finish packing up his gear. She’d left Jace’s saddlebags with his stuff on the bike, minus a few potentially useful things like his gun, which was now in the bottom of her bag, and the handcuffs, which were in her jacket pocket. They probably wouldn’t do much good against Alexander’s minions, but they’d be
a pretty good defense if Barry changed his mind about the booty thing.

  She’d kept Jace’s phone—it might be useful to have a cell that couldn’t be traced to her. And the journal. She wasn’t quite sure why. If Jace really was a serial killer or a hitman or some crazy guy trolling the Rocky Mountains for a bride to kidnap, someone else would have to stop him. She could only handle one master criminal at a time.

  Chapter 11

  Jace had been on the road for three hours before he calmed down enough to remember that Jesse had installed some kind of ‘Find My Phone’ software on all of the pack’s cell phones. Useful if you had to shift suddenly and leave your phone behind with your clothes.

  And it could really come in handy right about how. If the Lying Hellcat hadn’t ditched his phone, he might be able to see how far ahead of him she was. And where she was stopping. He texted Jesse: Lost my phone. Think some fucker stole it. Call me at this number. Jace.

  Jesse called back a minute later.

  “Hey, bro. What’s up?”

  “Lost my phone. I might’ve—ah—left it in the bar last night. I was…a little distracted.”

  Jesse laughed, a low growling laugh. “Yeah. So I hear.” Jace pulled the phone away from his face and stared at it. What?

  “But wait a minute,” Jesse went on, sounding confused. “You couldn’t have lost the phone last night. Rafe talked to Mindy on it this morning.”

  “He did?” How the hell had Rafe talked to Mindy? Unless…had the hellcat been using his phone? Why would she pose as Mindy? Hell, how did she even know about Mindy?

  “Yeah,” Jesse said. “I guess she didn’t tell you. Damn, I told Rafe he was freaking her out, telling her that Amerind felt you two invoke the mating bond last night. No way he should have said anything until the official announcement. Sorry, bro.”

  Jace felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. “Amerind said he felt the mating bond invoked last night?”

  “Well, yeah.” Jesse’s voice was low. If he were in wolf form, he would have his head lowered in submission. “Rafe didn’t mean to scare Mindy, though. He was just stoked, you know? After what Amerind said, when Mindy answered your phone, and she said you were in the shower…we were hoping…” He trailed off. “I guess Rafe kind of jumped to conclusions?”

  “Kind of,” Jace ground out. Big honkin’ bungee-jump leaps to conclusions. There was no way the mating bond could have been invoked. ‘Darlene’ wasn’t even a shifter. Not to mention that she’d been faking everything.

  “I’m not with Mindy,” he said. “No bonds were invoked. Somebody has my phone. So before you go tell Rafe to shut the hell up about Mindy, I need you to invoke your damned tech crap and tell me where my phone is.”

  “On it.”

  There was a moment’s pause, while Jace maneuvered the Malibu through traffic and fumed. The Lying Hellcat hadn’t just stolen his stuff, she’d been going through his phone. Now she’d probably be trying to steal his identity, what little of it was on the grid. And he was left driving a stolen piece of shit Malibu, for which he’d probably be arrested at any moment.

  This whole situation was one giant cluster fuck. His pack brothers thought he’d found a mate, and he was going to have to disappoint them yet again. He just hoped Jesse managed to shut Rafe up before he blabbed about Mindy to the whole pack.

  “Okay, I’m getting it,” Jesse said. “The app says your phone is…” He broke off, then went on, sounding confused again. “Just outside of Rock Springs, Wyoming. Looks like it’s moving west on Route 80.”

  “Hold on.” Jace checked the Malibu’s GPS. She was still about an hour ahead of him. “Okay. Monitor the signal, and send me text updates. Especially if it stops moving.”

  “Right,” Jesse said. Jace knew Jesse was trying to figure out what was going on, but Jesse also knew the lines between friend and alpha, and right now Jace was in alpha mode. Which meant that people did what they were told and didn’t ask questions.

  “Um, is it okay to ask where you are?” Jesse asked.

  “On Route 80, about an hour behind my phone.”

  “And Mindy is…”

  “Back home in Salida, with her family, I presume. And if she slept with anyone last night,” Jace added drily, “it wasn’t me.”

  “Uh huh.” Jesse let the silence sit there for a long moment. When Jace didn’t fill it, he said, “I’ll track the phone and keep you updated. Let me know if I can do anything else.”

  Jace grunted, but before he could end the call, Jesse added softly, “Whatever you need, bro.”

  Jace hesitated, then said, just as softly, “Thanks.” He pushed the ‘end’ button and broke the connection.

  Just for a second, his chest felt hot and tight, and tears stung his eyes. Jesse and Rafe were the most loyal pack brothers he could ask for, even if Rafe was a pain in the ass sometimes. They’d always had his back, and they still would, even knowing that they were probably going to lose their home because of him. Because of his failure.

  He slammed his palm against the steering wheel. They didn’t deserve that. He couldn’t even blame Kane and Israel for not wanting to stick by him. A real alpha was strong. He looked after his family. A true alpha always found a way.

  His mind went back to what Jesse had said. Amerind was the pack’s Seer—someone who could sense and wield the special magic of shifters. Who could sometimes even see the future.

  And he’d felt the mating bond being invoked. Last night.

  How could that possibly happen? The invocation was the first stage of bonding, when a pair of true mates recognized each other and opened themselves to the bond.

  But ‘Darlene’ was a human. Some shifters married humans, but they didn’t have the intense, magical bond that true shifter mates shared. That bound an alpha to his pack and the pack to its territory. It wasn’t possible.

  Was it?

  Jace wrenched the wheel to the side, pulling the Malibu over onto the shoulder. He stared down at his phone for a long time. Then, finally, he dialed Amerind.

  He skipped over the pleasantries and got right to the point.

  “So, Obi-Wan, Rafe and Jesse told me you felt a great disturbance in the Force last night. What was it?”

  Amerind sighed. “There was a time when the pack Seer was treated with respect, even reverence,” he said testily. “We were not plagued with ridiculous Star Wars jokes.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jace said. “What exactly did you feel? Or see?”

  Amerind said, “I believed that I had a vision of the mating bond being invoked.”

  Remembering his night with ‘Darlene,’ Jace winced. “Dude. Please tell me your visions don’t include personal details.”

  Amerind huffed. “The Sight is not a pornographic video. It is—symbolic. Spiritual impressions.”

  Well, thank goodness for that. The idea of the Seer getting an eyeful of some of the things he and ‘Darlene’ had been doing…not cool.

  “So what did you see?”

  “An image of you and a woman, embracing, surrounded by bonding energy, which spread out to encircle the pack. The image was very clear, very strong—and very emotional. Nearly identical to other mating visions I’ve experienced. However, I’m perplexed now. I was told that you were not, umm, sexually involved last night? I don’t know what—”

  Jace interrupted him. He might as well just cut to the chase. “Has any shifter alpha been known to form a true bond with a human?”

  There was a long, long silence on the other end of the phone. When Amerind finally spoke, his voice had gone up half an octave. “A human? How could you have formed a shifter bond with a human?”

  Jace snapped, “Why the hell do you think I’m calling you? You’re the pack guru, not me. All I know is that I met this girl in a bar, and one thing led to another—which has happened many times before, I might add, with no fucking disturbances in the Force. So what’s going on here?”

  Amerind spluttered, “I don’t—I’m not—I mean,
how could—that’s never—I’d have to read—”

  Jace cut him off again before the poor old guy’s head exploded. “Basically, you have no idea,” he said resignedly. “But as far as you know, it’s never happened before.”

  “We don’t know that it’s happened now,” Amerind said. “Can you bring this woman to Silverlake? Perhaps if I see you together…”

  “I would love to bring her to Silverlake,” Jace said. Not. “If only I could fucking find her.”

  “Oh,” Amerind said. “Oh, that’s not good.”

  “No, it sure as hell isn’t. And honestly, I’m pretty sure that she’s not the kind of girl you bring home to Obi-Wan, either.”

  “Oh,” Amerind said again. His head might have exploded already, because that seemed to be all he could think of to say.

  “Yeah,” Jace said. “Okay, well, I’ll keep you posted. Have an awesome damn day.” He hung up.

  He sat in the Malibu, fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

  This couldn’t be happening. Humans didn’t have fated mates, or shifter magic. So how could the bond have been invoked between him and ‘Darlene’?

  And yet, he’d felt something with her. Something he’d never felt before—something his wolf had never felt before. He’d felt almost compelled to help her, to protect her. And he still felt connected to her, despite what she’d done.

  He clenched the steering wheel hard, hope and sheer terror warring inside him. If there was the smallest chance she was his true mate, he had to find her and persuade her to come to Silverlake. But how could he even consider binding a thieving con woman to himself, and, worse still, to the pack? He’d seen firsthand how an alpha mate’s betrayal could destroy a whole pack. It had destroyed his father and his childhood. He’d made promises to the Silverlake pack—promises he’d die to keep. How could he saddle them with ‘Darlene’?