by Olivia Arran
“Tell me everything.” His color was back and he was regarding me with a steady expression, not judging. He was also not jumping to conclusions and dismissing my claims; instead waiting for me to explain.
Heat still warmed my stomach as his words echoed in my head: you’re fucking gorgeous. It wasn’t the first time I’d been paid a compliment, but it was certainly the first time someone had shouted one at me. Or made me really believe it. Shoving aside the urge to indulge in the fantasy of him sweeping me off my feet with a long lingering kiss—a fantasy I definitely didn’t have time for—I pulled all the facts together, reciting them as succinctly as I could. “Harper arrived here one week and two days ago. She should have returned the day before yesterday, but she wasn’t on the coach. When I asked at the municipal building earlier, they told me she’d checked out of Heartsridge and gone home, but I know that can’t be true.”
He was looking at me, as though he wanted to say something, but didn’t know how to phrase it.
I shook my head. “You don’t get it. She wouldn’t go off without telling me. We live together, for one, and we talk on the phone every day when she’s away on her trips.”
“Trips?”
“She’s a digital artist.” At his blank look, I explained, “She takes photographs then manipulates them on the computer.” That was an overly simple explanation for what Harper did. She was a true artist and so talented it made my heart ache when I saw her work.
He sat back in his chair and pressed the tips of his fingers together and under his chin, his lips pursing as he thought about it. “If she travels all over taking photographs, maybe she could have stopped off somewhere to explore? When did you last hear from her?”
“Six days ago. We were chatting and shooting the breeze and then the line went dead. I thought she’d run out of battery—Harper is the sister with her head in the clouds and no mind for the practical side of life—but then she didn’t call back, and her phone goes straight to voicemail.”
“GPS tracking?”
“No signal. The last known location is pinpointed as here, in Heartsridge.”
He frowned, his fingertips digging into his stubble. “Did she mention why she chose to come here? There are strict regulations about photography in the town.”
She had, but it had been the usual Harper fluff and nonsense, but on the off chance it might help… “She felt the urge to come here.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Urge?”
I thought back, trying to recall her exact words. “She said it felt like she was being called. That she had to come here.” I forced a laugh, but it came out strained. “Harper believed in stuff like that.” Followed her heart, not her head. I turned my hands where they rested in my lap, staring at my palms as if they held all the secrets. “She asked me to come with her, you know. Tried to convince me it would be fun, but I was too busy with work and the thought of taking time off and then having to catch up…” My voice faded, every ounce of me wishing I could go back and throw caution to the wind. Take a chance for once and screw the consequences. I could have taken vacation time—God only knew I was owed it—but, if I had to be truthful, I hadn’t wanted to. Time off to visit a shifter town? Who the hell would want to do that? I mean, I got why people might be curious, but I’d always been of the opinion that the whole tourism thing was … distasteful. Just leave them alone to live in peace, like everyone else had the right to. But I hadn’t said that to Harper, had just brushed off her coaxing with the usual excuses and vague promises to go to the coast with her later in the year. My vision blurred, the room swimming. I pressed my eyelids together, sucking in a deep breath through my mouth, tingles fluttering through my arms as my heart thudded in my chest.
I heard the chair creak and footsteps padding toward me, then an arm slid around my shoulders, tugging me down until my cheek nestled against a hard chest. His smell invaded every breath I managed to suck in, the cotton of his shirt tickling my nose. “If she’s here, we’ll find her, sweetheart. I promise,” he murmured, the sound vibrating from his chest and into my ear.
My hands uncurled from tight little balls, the pads of my fingers pressing against his shirt and soaking in his warmth. I flattened my hands, pressing the palms against his chest, soaking in the feel of his solid presence. It helped; he helped. In some strange way finding my sister didn’t feel like an unsurmountable mountain with him by my side. He said he would find her and I believed him. He struck me as the kind of man who could do anything he set his mind to, but— I tilted back, blinking tangled lashes apart until I could focus. “Why are you helping me? You don’t know me from Adam and I’ve been nothing but a pain since we met.”
A silence stretched between us, the only noise was that of the air conditioning humming and his breath in my ear. “I don’t know. I’d like to think I’d help anybody who was hurting, but I know I’m not any kind of a saint.” His voice was a gruff rumble. Honest.
“Then why?” I leaned back a little further, his face swimming into focus. Blue eyes captured mine, searching in their intensity. Heat tickled my cheeks under his silent perusal, my fingers curling against his chest as if clinging on.
He muttered something under his breath, the words a harsh growl. His lips crashed down on mine, sealing us together and stealing my breath. Firm and hot, his mouth slid against mine, demanding that I surrender, his tongue stealing into my mouth when I opened on a gasp, his tongue tangling and taking as his hands pulled me even closer, crushing me against his chest.
My world narrowed until that single touch was everything, the only thing that existed in this time and place, my head spinning and lips tingling as he proceeded to prove to me that I had never been kissed before. Not like this. Not by a real man.
Then he broke away, his breath puffing out and tickling my swollen lips.
Ragged breathing echoed in the room and I realized it was mine, the sound loud and jarring. I waited for him to speak, to explain what this was, but he just stared at me. Silent. Brows inching together, eyes a touch too wide, irises the color of molten silver.
I was ready to melt. Ready to fall into his arms with a wild abandon I hadn’t known I possessed, then it hit me. Did he do this all the time? Was this a thing? Luring confused human women to their hotel rooms and seducing them into puddles of lust? I knew—unfortunately from my research on the way up here—that shifters had a healthy sexual appetite. Pages and pages of some of the blogs had been devoted to lauding their prowess and physical beauty. Not to mention their stamina. Hundreds—no, thousands—of groupies had added their own stamp of approval, tagging and swapping stories on the many social media accounts devoted to Austin’s kind. I didn’t remember seeing his picture, but that didn’t mean anything. Until yesterday, I hadn’t given one ounce of attention to this world, and I was starting to think that had been a mistake.
I mean, what the hell did you say to a man after he’d tongue tangled the air out of you?
He took a deep breath.
I tensed, begging myself to play it cool.
“What’s Harper’s last name?”
Okay. That’s what you say after such a mind-altering event. “Um, Kelly, like me.”
“Leona Kelly.” He dragged the words out, as if tasting them. “I like it. It’s pretty, like you.” But he didn’t pull me back down for a kiss, instead propping his arm behind him and leaning back.
Feeling a little uncomfortable, I pulled away from him, scooting over to put some bedspread between us. “Thanks. What’s your full name?” He knew mine, so it was only fair I knew the full name of the man I was putting such blind faith in.
“Austin Ford.”
“Strong.” I slapped a hand to my mouth, then cringed because if it.
His lips slid up into a grin, revealing straight white teeth. “Thanks.”
“Why do you need to know?”
I watched as he stuck a hand in his pocket, studiously trying not to look as his hips popped off the bed while he rooted for something, ign
oring the way his jeans clung to a suspiciously large bulge. Okay. Sue me. I looked. Stared. I couldn’t help it.
Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice, his attention consumed by the small cell phone he’d retrieved and was tapping away at. “Hmmm,” he mused, eyes flicking up to meet mine, “According to the database a Harper Kelly did leave Heartsridge the day before yesterday.”
I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes. “I know she didn’t.”
“And I believe you.” His eyes returned to his phone, narrowing as his thumb continued to swipe through screens. “Everything appears to be in order.”
Frustration tore through me. I jumped to my feet, then froze. What was I going to do, wander around the forest in the hope that I stumbled over my sister?
He pocketed the phone, his eyebrows raising at the sight of me paused in mid-flight. His gaze flitted over my body, leaving a path of spine tingling heat in its wake as he hesitated on my breasts with a devotion that had all sensible thought flying straight out of the window.
I unconsciously smoothed the front of my dress, telling myself it was because my hands were clammy.
He yanked his eyes away. “Follow me,” he commanded, standing and striding toward the door. “If your sister didn’t really leave, then she might still be checked into the hotel.”
Scurrying to keep up with his long legs, I bounced after him down the corridor. Attraction still buzzed through me, but excitement eclipsed the tension and had my foot tapping as we paused outside the elevator doors. “What if they won’t tell us?” I was ready to beg, but I didn’t know how much good it would do us.
His jaw tightened as he rolled his shoulders back, muscles straining the seams of his shirt. “I’ll make them tell us.”
Chapter Seven
Austin
I’d locked myself down tight. Airtight. That kiss … fuck. I’d been seconds away from shoving her down and doing anything and everything to convince her that getting naked was a good idea. I shoved a hand through my hair and counted to ten. Fuck. What was wrong with me? I hadn’t been this unstable since I’d changed for the first time.
Disappointingly, Danny had caved pretty much straight away. Disappointing because I was in the mood for a brawl, but at least we now had somewhere to start looking. Something was bugging me though. Danny hadn’t objected enough. It was almost as if he’d been waiting for us to ask. But, now we knew. Harper hadn’t checked out and the hotel manager had been waiting for instructions from the Mayor’s office about what to do with her things.
Which meant Carter knew a human was missing and he hadn’t breathed a word.
Pushing aside the do not disturb sign, I slid the card into the lock. When it beeped and flashed green, I edged the door open, motioning for Leona to stay behind me.
The room was quiet, the air musty and stale. Clothes littered the floor, a suitcase with its innards spilling over lying in the center of the unmade bed. The wardrobe doors hung open displaying its empty carcass, but it was the desk that caught my attention. “There’s no-one here.” Leading the way into the room, I ignored the surface mess. A glass lay on its side, the liquid that it had once held now a sticky splatter reaching out across the shiny wood surface. Dry. Days old. A power cable extended from the customary desk height plug socket, the end dangling over the edge of the wood. “Did your sister travel with a laptop?”
Leona glanced up from where she crouched, her hands full of clothes. “Always. She liked to check the photos after a shoot. Sometimes she’d play around with them, see if any of them had that special spark of magic she was always searching for.”
I turned slowly, surveying the room. “Have you seen her laptop anywhere?” She shook her head. “Her camera?”
“No, but that doesn’t surprise me. She wouldn’t go anywhere without her camera. Not voluntarily, anyway.” She seemed to realize what she’d just said, her face blanching and throat working silently.
I moved toward her, wishing more than anything I could take away the uncertainty. “Would she carry her laptop with her?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” Her voice was small.
I took a deep breath, drawing the scent of the room into my lungs and sifting through the layers. “She wasn’t hurt here, Leona. I would be able to smell it.” Blood had a metallic scent and lingered for days, even if a person tried to remove it with bleach. Other fluids … some were more pervasive than others, degrading at different rates. The faint scent of shifters hung in the air, but they were days old and unrecognizable beyond their species.
“But she could have been hurt somewhere else.”
I didn’t want to lie to her; wasn’t even sure if I could. “She could have, but you can’t let yourself go down that road, sweetheart. Nothing good will come of it.” Squeezing her shoulders, I dragged up a smile and pasted it on my face, though inside my gut was churning. “You’ve got to believe that Harper’s okay. That we’ll find her. That you’ll spend the next year being mad at her for making you worry for no good reason.”
She relaxed under my hands, her shoulder rising as she took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’ve got to stay strong.” Tilting her head, she stared up at me, her liquid brown eyes clouded with questions. “Thank you for helping me. You didn’t have to—” she shook her head at my mumbled brush off, “—No, you really didn’t have to. You’re one of the good guys, Austin.” Reaching up, she patted my chest, her fingers smoothing over the dark cotton.
My world tilted, contentment easing into my bones and smoothing away lingering tension. Her touch did that to me, soothed my inner beast and silenced the voices in my head.
Mate… My bear’s low growl didn’t shock me. Deep down I’d already figured it out. It had only taken me this long because she was human and not a shifter, like I’d expected her to be.
Leona was the one. My fated mate. I’d actually fucking found her! But with everything going on with her sister, I’d have to bide my time before I could try my hand at sweet talking her into giving me a chance. Clearing my throat, and pushing my revelations to the side, I slid my hands from her shoulders. “Is your sister famous in her line of work?” Turning away, I strode back to the desk, pulling out the drawers and rifling through the bits and pieces piled in and on top of the dark cherry wood.
“No. She’s really good, though.”
She hadn’t been taken for ransom, then. Which left only one of two explanations. She was either taken because of something she’d witnessed—and captured on camera—or some bastard had decided they wanted her. Grinding my back teeth together to silence my growl, I scooped up a handful of papers, scanning each in turn. I could only hope it was the former, for Harper’s sake and Leona’s. “Here.”
She hurried over to peer at the scrap of paper in my hand. “A receipt for The Lair? Isn’t that the bar?”
“Look at the time stamp.”
Her eyes narrowed, then widened with understanding. “Six days ago.”
I nodded. It gave us somewhere to start looking. “Let’s go.” I strode toward the door, having already memorized Harper’s faint scent. If anyone at the bar had been in contact with her recently, I’d know. I was still crossing my fingers that Leona’s sister had hooked up with someone and lost track of time.
Leona caught up with me at the door, having darted back over to the suitcase and shoved something in her pocket. “Ready,” she whispered.
She flashed me a grateful smile then shocked the shit out of me when her small hand slid into mine.
My heart thudded, the air knocked clean from my chest. Not now—don’t be a fucking asshole. Find her sister then convince her to stay.
She had to stay—had to—because if she didn’t, then the shit would really hit the fan.
I’d have to go rogue.
Chapter Eight
Leona
Austin held open the door as he ushered me into the bar, his wide frame sheltering me from the mass of bodies that crowded into the small space. The air was humid; sticky and f
aintly sweet smelling, with no hint of the stale sweat and beer I had expected from a place such as this.
“This way.” Austin grabbed my hand and threaded his way through the crowd, ignoring the various people who called out his name as we passed. Women brushed up against him, their interest clear in the tilt of their hips and the fluttering of their eyelashes, either oblivious or blatantly ignoring the fact that he was with me.
He acted like they didn’t exist, not pausing for a second.
It would be obnoxious to feel victorious. I mean, he wasn’t some kind of prize and I certainly hadn’t snagged him, but their disappointed pouts held a certain … satisfaction. Especially when they eventually acknowledge me, their eyes widening and mouths dropping open in shock. Yup. He’s with the short, plain, curvy chick. Take that Amazonian women with your fake tits and flicky hair.
Settling for a smug grin, I hung onto his hand as we whipped through the crowd. A jukebox or stereo played in the background, pumping out some variation of the latest hits, and providing a backdrop for the many conversations taking place. I adjusted my dress surreptitiously, smoothing the hem and resisting the urge to rub at the grass stains marking the front. I was severely underdressed in my floaty summer dress. The women in this bar had gone all out, their outfits designed to enhance and attract the many men who prowled around. Scooping my hair up onto my head, I quickly wound my hairband around the messy knots, smoothing a few stray strands back and over my ears.
Austin was scowling, as if I’d personally offended him, or something. He leaned in close, his breath puffing out against my cheek. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what?”
He reached out, giving my topknot a little tug. “Your hair is beautiful. It shouldn’t be scraped back and hidden away.” He tilted his head a fraction, considering me. “In fact—” the ghost of a satisfied smile lifted his lips, “—you’re right, keep it up for now.” With that peculiar comment, he guided me the last couple of steps to the bar area.
