Shadow Mated (Ouachita Mountain Shifter Book 5)

by P. Jameson

  “Who threatens this clan, and why? Don’t know if we can help, but we’ll try.”

  Nastia nodded in agreement, and so did Mirena.

  Destiny pressed her lips together before answering. As if she was gearing up to deliver a blow. “A group of shifters, a shadow clan. Law breakers, thieves, and murderers. The vilest of our kind.”

  “For what reason—”

  “Treason,” Destiny interrupted. “See what I did there?” She winked in dramatic fashion before continuing. “One of their clan left to find a better life with the Ouachita cats. They want him back. And worse, they want to annihilate everything he loves. His new family, his mate… they want to take it all.”

  Oh, this was worse than Adira imagined. A darkness trying to make its way into the light. A search for salvation with hell on his heels. Trying to do right, but haunted by everything bad. And now his family would pay for it.

  She looked at her sisters. Their eyes held the same righteous anger she knew hers did. But did they have time for this? The clock was running out for them. Soon they would be dark like this shadow clan. Soon they’d hurt innocents to get what they wanted.

  Adira squeezed her eyes shut against that thought and forced a question through her lips. “What about us, we’re running out of time. We risk our future to fight this crime.”

  She hated asking. It was against her nature to be selfish. But if she wasn’t a bit worried for herself now, she’d be worse than just selfish later.

  Destiny smiled, clasping her hands in front of her. “That’s the best part. Remember how I said I kind of rocked at setting people up with their mates?”

  “Yes,” Nastia said, frowning.

  “Welllllll.” Destiny rolled her hands in a circle like the rest of her plan was obvious. “That’s what you three are looking for, right? Your mates?”

  Adira cocked her head to one side, blonde ringlets falling loose from her conservative updo. They were looking for their anchors. Often it was found in a connection of true love between one person and another. One strong enough to withstand the test of time. A forever love. A… mate some might say.

  “You can help us find our anchors?” Nastia asked, gripping the side of the well until her knuckles turned white.

  “I can try. I’d try my best. Because you know, I think we could be friends. And I fight hard for my friends.” Her face grew serious, her petite features losing any hint of playfulness. She looked fierce in the way only an animal could. Determined. “You help my friends in the Ouachitas, and we’ll help you. We won’t let you down. Do we have a deal?”

  Nastia looked up from the well, her eyes meeting Adira with so much hope it put an ache in her chest just to see it. Her sister hardly mentioned it, how scared she was of turning evil. How scared she was to be the first of them to go. But now, her hope told the whole story.

  Adira looked to Mirena. Her auburn eyes were steady, glinting with the same optimism she saw in Nastia’s. Both of them would turn before Adira, and it would break her heart to pieces. If this was their chance… they had to take it. There was no question.

  Adira nodded, sure of this decision. Whatever happened now was up to fate.

  “Deal,” Nastia spoke into the well.

  “Yes!” Destiny clapped her hands together in victory. “You won’t be sorry. This is the beginning of something great. I can feel it.”

  Adira could feel it too. The rainbow had brought them Destiny. Destiny had brought them hope. They had a battle before them, for sure. But even still, their future seemed infinitely less dim. Their situation, no longer hopeless.

  “To the Ouachitas we will go,” she sighed. “May we at last find what we’re looking fo’.”

  She grinned as Nastia groaned.

  That might’ve been one of her worst rhymes yet.

  Chapter One

  Julio “Gash” Kennedy robotically clicked through shots from the various security cameras around the Ouachita property, staring at the monitors before him, but seeing nothing but a blur of black and white.

  The past will haunt you. How many times had he heard that phrase? Or thought it. Or believed it with his whole blackened heart. But it was bullshit. The past doesn’t bother with haunting. No, the past is a bad fucker with a hulk-ass iron fist, and when it finds you, when it finally catches up to you, it smashes everything around you until you’re left with shards. Everything you touch, or that touches you, gets a taste of the bastard’s vengeance.

  Gash clenched his teeth tight, silently begging Owyn and Magic to leave the security room before he lost it.

  Hold it fucking together. Do it, you bastard. You can’t fall apart now. You’re a goddamn Alley Cat—

  Not true. Not anymore. Gash was a Ouachita cat. Never again would he do his brother, Felix’s, bidding. Never again would he be asked to torment innocent people in the name of greed or power.

  He was done with that life. All he wanted was to be free to move on with his new one. The one that would allow him to take a mate and protect her and love her for the rest of his days. Because maybe dark hearts like his couldn’t fall in love. Maybe he was all about instinct and need. But he didn’t think so. Not after tonight.

  His past had come for him. Rigor and his pack of Junkyard Dogs were sent by Felix to bring Gash back to Memphis. They’d threatened the clan and attacked Owyn, cutting off his finger to convince Gash to go with them.

  Felix wouldn’t have tried something like that.

  Felix would’ve assumed it wouldn’t work. That Gash was incapable of caring for others to the extent that he’d sacrifice his happiness for them.

  Felix would’ve been wrong. Dead wrong.

  And that’s what had Gash shaking all to hell and reexamining everything he’d done for the year he’d been with the Ouachita cats.

  Because tonight had proven something. Something he’d doubted for so long.

  He was truly capable of love.

  And not just the kind that sometimes develops in a male toward his mate. Not love that’s brought on by a supernatural bond, but the real kind. The soul deep kind that only lives in people of worth. Love that is blind to whether the recipient is deserving or not. Love for his clan and perhaps even innocent strangers.

  Because tonight, he’d chosen to walk away from his mate and return to everything he’d worked so hard to escape, just to save Owyn from losing another goddamn finger. Just to give him and Doc a chance at happiness. Just to save the clan he loved from certain war with the ruthless Alley Cats.

  As he’d climbed into Rigor’s wrecker, he fully intended on never seeing any of them again. He’d been resigned to the fact that his time being one of the good guys was over.

  The thought of never walking these woods again, of never enduring another holiday season of hard work and smiles, of never eating Eagan’s goddamn chicken marsala, it left him feeling bleak. Hurt even. But the idea that he might never see his soft, sweet Bailey again… that was so fucking unbearable he’d had to strangle his cat just to get in the truck.

  Gash swallowed hard, clicking like a mad man through the camera angles.

  Bailey. She was everything wonderful about his new life. Funny and beautiful and sweet as ice cream on a hot day. She was everything he had ever wanted, and more than he’d ever needed. He could be so happy with that female if he could just forget about his ugly past.

  But he hadn’t left with Rigor. No, luck had come to him in the form of a deal. Rigor wanted revenge on the man who was responsible for the death of his female, Aaron Redman. Gash was within six degrees of separation, and promised to deliver the human in exchange for Rigor’s protection from Felix.

  Sure, it got him out of Rigor’s truck and back home with his people, but there were exactly several things wrong with this deal he’d struck.

  One, he couldn’t deliver Aaron Redman. He didn’t know where the man was, and even if he did, it went against every one of his new moral standards to hand the human over to a vengeful wolf shifter.

 
Two, it might keep the Junkyard Dogs off his back for a while, but it wouldn’t keep Felix away. Which meant the Ouachita clan was in no less danger just because he’d ducked the wolves.

  The only thing making a deal with Rigor accomplished was time. It was a grand stall. Enough of a reprieve for Gash to figure out how to keep his clan safe.

  As he clicked away, Owyn finally made a quiet exit, leaving Magic breathing down Gash’s neck.

  “What’s your plan?” he asked, sounding like he was struggling for patience. “How are you going to play this with Rigor?”

  Gash ground his teeth together until they squeaked. He had zero answers for the panther shifter he called friend. And he was no closer to finding any. He just wanted to be alone so he could calm his cat the only way he knew how.

  “Give me time,” he forced between his teeth. “Give me time, and I’ll figure this out.”

  “We’ll figure this out,” Magic corrected.

  Gash gave him a single nod. He was still getting used to having a brotherhood that would stand with him one hundred percent. Felix had made sure his position in the Alley Cats was constantly on shaky ground. Gash was always having to watch his back, and there was never an idea or solution not met with resistance. Was it really any surprise he’d wanted to leave?

  But what he’d done was considered the ultimate insult. When the lowest of the clan finds greener grass, it’s like spitting at the feet of your people. Except the Alley Cats were so shitty they didn’t even have grass. Gash’s spit was a favor. As least now they could make mud with it.

  “Just give me time,” he repeated, and after a heavy look, Magic slipped out of the security office, shutting the door behind him.

  Gash released his breath in a hearty whoosh, sagging in his chair and pressing his palm to the tight ache in the center of his chest. It was getting worse, the pain.

  His jag-lion was ripping him up for what had happened tonight, for the way things had gone down since he’d arrived here. For not giving him a mate. For not protecting her good enough. The cat thought he could do a much better job and wanted out, wanted the chance to prove it.

  Not fucking happening.

  The cat would claim Bailey on the spot, with or without her approval. The cat thought he knew what was best for her, but he was wrong.

  Gash knew her.

  She’d joined a clan whose main caveat up until a few months ago was that they refused to mate. She hadn’t done it for nothing. She’d done it for protection from a forced mating, why else?

  Luckily, Gash had a way of calming the animal.

  Leaning forward, he clicked the mouse over a saved and encrypted file, quickly typing in the passcode: mylife. A video from the security camera he’d installed in the kitchen when they’d had a thieving problem popped up on the main monitor screen. It was one he’d cut and saved so he could review it over and over.

  It was of Bailey as she stood, talking to Clara one evening. Her hip was propped against the stainless steel counter, her arms crossed casually under her ample chest while she nodded, completely engrossed in her friend’s story. She wore a plain black t-shirt with a pocket on the front. It looked like a man’s and he remembered being so fucking jealous the first time he’d seen it, so sure it had once belonged to a lover. But then he noticed she had many of them, and it was just part of her daily uniform, which was always covered by a navy blue chef’s jacket.

  The cat inside grumbled a weak purr, semi-appeased by the sight of his mate smiling as she chatted. Her smile did so much for him. Seeing her happy was the ultimate victory.

  Gash tucked the file away, back behind its protective encryption. He needed to see her in real-time. See how she was doing after everything that went down tonight.

  He swallowed the sour taste of trepidation down his throat. If she wasn’t okay… damn, if she wasn’t okay…

  He’d go to her. He’d comfort her. Find a way to do it without his animal getting in the way, because she deserved someone to lean on even if just for a little while. Even if it couldn’t be permanent.

  Several clicks later, he found her where she seemed most comfortable. The kitchen.

  Wearing her pretty red sundress from the party earlier. Dark, corkscrew hair pulled up in a knot, showcasing the three braids along one side of her head. A stark white apron covered her front as she stood at the counter furiously chopping carrots.

  Gash watched her from behind the camera. She couldn’t see him, wouldn’t know. No one would. It was safe. Right now, he could just watch her and take in every movement and tiny quirk, and store it away to recall later.

  He zoomed in on her face and let his finger trail along her cheek. A small smile she probably wasn’t even trying for curved her full lips as she went about her work.

  Inside, he calmed even more, a fragile peace settling over him as his breath evened.

  His mate was so beautiful. God, he never imagined his female would be so perfect. More than ever, he wished he was good enough for her. Wished he didn’t have such a fucked up past. Wished he could’ve been born to this clan somehow instead of the one he’d called family for too long. Maybe then, he could have his Bailey without fearing for her safety.

  The animal inside him let off a harsh growl, a warning. But before Gash could discern what it was, Bailey’s face crumpled on the screen, pinching as she hunched over the counter, both hands bracing her weight as if she could hardly stay upright.

  Gash sat straighter, pulling the camera angle out so he could see the whole room. But she was alone in the kitchen. There was no threat. The video had no sound but he could tell she was sobbing and it tore at his heart.

  Damn it, no. He couldn’t see her cry again. The first time had ripped him up inside. Felt like fire licking his bones. Because he’d caused it. But he’d caused it this time too, hadn’t he? His fucking history had her scared, with no one to ease her. It was a goddamn injustice. His Bailey was too good and sweet to cry over him.

  He stood so abruptly, his chair swiveled back and hit the opposite wall with a bang. But he didn’t move yet. His heavy fists planted on the desk as he stared at the monitor, breath heaving, struggling with what to do.

  Go to her, and help?

  Stay, and watch? Maintain his distance no matter how much it hurt.

  Bailey lifted one trembling hand to dash the tears from her cheeks, tossing the knife aside and crouching to the floor, holding her middle.

  Fuck it.

  Gash turned on his heel, flinging the door open to sprint down the hall. It took only seconds to reach the dining room where he barreled through to his mate’s workspace. His boots squeaked on the tile as he skidded to a stop just inside the kitchen door.

  Bailey’s gaze snapped up to look at him, surprise quickly morphing into defeat. She held up one hand, palm out, to ward him off.

  “Not… hurt…” she gasped, unable to stop the hitching her tears had caused.

  Bullshit, he wanted to roar. She wouldn’t cry this way if she wasn’t hurt. His mate wasn’t weak, just tender. Especially in her heart. He knew the signs.

  Gash moved forward, careful not to stomp so he wouldn’t frighten her. Be careful with mate. Don’t hurt her anymore. His animal’s pleas had changed from demanding to begging, and it made Gash flinch as hot tears gathered behind his eyes.

  I won’t. I swear, I won’t.

  But Bailey pushed her palm farther in front of her body, looking hopeless. “I’m fine,” she panted. “Not hurt… fine… go away.”

  No matter her protests, he couldn’t stop moving closer. Not when he knew how badly she needed him.

  He gentled his voice, letting her hear the rawness in it so she’d know he wasn’t angry. “Bailey…”

  But it only made her tears come harder. “I-I don’t need anything. I’m not… not needy. Now… go.”

  Not needy. Gash squeezed his eyes closed at the memory of when he’d used that word. He’d thrown it—and others—at her like rocks, hoping to persuade her to think of hi
m as a friend instead of a potential mate.

  Their relationship had been strained from the beginning. At first, he’d tried to avoid her. Not so easy to do, confined to the mountain the way they were and working in close proximity to one another. Then he’d tried being rude to her so she’d resist the pull of their mating bond. But after Felix’s men set a steel trap in the woods and caught Layna in it, he’d drawn Bailey closer so he could watch over her better.

  But yesterday, when he’d gone in after hours to get lunch, she’d been in the kitchen prepping for dinner. He’d taken a seat at the counter, silently watching her while he ate. Time went by easily until she quietly asked, “Will you be looking for a mate in the future?”

  His sandwich had turned to sawdust between one bite and the next.

  She’d glanced at him with a small smile. Not the bright one that showed her teeth, but a tiny, careful one. It turned his insides to mush when she showed this submissive side of herself.

  “I always thought I’d never mate, but so much is possible now that the pact has changed.” The smile stayed in place as she chopped. “With the way you’ve been sticking close by, I thought…” Her hesitation brought a rosy blush to her dark cheeks. “Well, I thought maybe you’d been considering… me.”

  Gash breathed shallow because he couldn’t find air. Considering her? No. He knew she was his. There was nothing to consider.

  He just needed to keep everyone else from knowing it.

  “You?” he’d forced through clenched teeth.

  She’d shrugged one shoulder, chopping faster as the smile faded to a phantom. “Yeah. I just thought… maybe. My tiger has considered you, so I thought… I dunno… maybe?”

  Fuming and desperate for her to stop this line of thinking, he’d declared, “I don’t want a mate. Ever. You understand?”

  He had to make her see, any connection to him was dangerous for her. Simply being her friend was dangerous. But a mate? That was like painting a bright red bullseye on her forehead. Especially now that Felix and the Alley Cats knew where to find them.