by Cathy Clamp
Alek nodded. “I’ll bet it’s Rachel and I bet I know why. Tell her to knock it off and get back to the race.”
Hell, it couldn’t hurt. Rachel! Quit hunting. Get back to flying.
* * *
A voice in her head caused her to her falter and make a noise. The food looked up, saw her, and raced into a hole in the tree. Her talons caught thin air.
Shaking her head, she looked down and around. Had she really just heard Dalvin telling her to quit hunting? He wasn’t supposed to interfere, but she was glad he had. Fortunately, a quick correction was all she needed to get back on course. The hard dive had actually helped her catch up with the others.
Just ahead was the first hunting challenge. Two dead trees right at the cliff face were marked with dye, one pink, one blue. She looked up and spotted the yellow dye mark that matched the color on her collar, far up on the cliff.
The bears reached the trees and started to climb. Anica was stronger than she looked—she was making her way quickly up the tree. But Larissa had a longer reach and made up the difference in moments.
Crap! I can’t keep watching them. I need to get my own prey.
The air currents next to the cliff were all downdrafts. Fighting the press of the wind and flapping hard to gain altitude was exhausting, which she expected was part of the challenge. She reached the yellow dot at just about the same time as the bears reached the hollows in their trees. She tried to reach into the crack in the rock, but her wings kept hitting the cliff face. She backed off, trying to figure out her next step, feeling the clock ticking. Anica had already grabbed her target honey and was devouring it.
Rachel tried to approach the cliffside again, but the wind kept trying to push her down and away. Wait! That was the answer. She flapped hard, rising to the top of the cliff, then swooped down. Air currents pushed her right into the wall, upside down. She grabbed the crack with one claw and opened her wings wide, letting the wind help her hold in place while she used her free foot to reach into the cleft and grope around blindly.
Her claws closed around something soft and meaty. A white mouse, already dead.
Her bird insisted on meat. Closing her eyes, she let the bird take over, still pressed against the rock. The mouse tasted so good! Sweet, soft, with a little crunch. So long as she didn’t watch herself eat, she could enjoy the taste.
Finished, she let go of the rock, pulled in her wings, and shot down toward the trees. Seconds before she was going to hit the treetops, she felt the release of the downdraft and snapped her wing open, soaring higher into the sky. The first challenge was done!
CHAPTER 18
Alpha Kragan sat across from Dalvin in a tent set up next to the challenge assembly. To Bitty’s right was Rabi Kuric and to her left was Amber Wingate.
“I’m telling you, I didn’t know until just moments ago,” Dalvin said, putting as much truth and honesty into his voice as he could. “And I didn’t understand what it meant.”
“There wasn’t time to explain what I sensed, Councilman,” Bitty said to Kuric. Shifting her gaze to the healer, she added, “You know, Amber, that I wouldn’t intentionally interfere with this competition.”
Kuric looked and smelled furious. Frowning, he studied the video monitors set up nearby on a large table. One showed the view from a drone flying overhead, tracking the blinking collars around the competitors’ necks The other three were each dedicated to one of the racers, displaying images from the cameras mounted on the collars.
Sighing, Kuric said, “Someone explain to me one more time what we’re dealing with?”
Bitty sighed. “This morning, when we were training, Agent Adway prevented my omega, Rachel Washington, from flying into a boulder. I believe using his magic to save her life opened a latent mating bond.”
“That’s what I sensed as well,” Amber said, facing the cat councilman. “Rabi, it’s not uncommon for a mating bond to take effect when the people involved are under stress. New bonds are tenuous and unpredictable, can go either way. A stress mating can bind the couple fully and permanently, or it can be a one-time shot and might fall apart the next day.
“A stress-driven binding is often paired with sexual contact or intense emotions. I’ve seen rare instances where that alone can activate the bond. In this particular case, I think there’s been physical contact.”
How did she know that? Then he remembered that she’d stayed with Rachel last night. She must have smelled that they’d kissed. Or maybe she sensed what they’d done after rescuing the base jumpers.
Kuric raised his eyebrows. “Have you had sex with Ms. Washington? After I specifically told you to stay away from the delegates?”
“No. We haven’t had sex.” It was the truth. Sort of.
The councilman snarled, his jaw moving sideways as he bared his teeth. “You’re lying. I can smell it.”
He looked at the wall and the table, unwilling to meet the councilman’s eyes. “It’s the truth. We haven’t had sex. She’s a virgin. I don’t take that lightly. But we … well, we kissed and we sort of got each other off accidentally.”
Amber nodded. “That can absolutely happen, and your sexual desire for her will get more intense as the bond grows. If you don’t intend to permanently mate with Rachel, you have to let the binding fail, starting right now. Without continued contact, it will gradually fade and you’ll be able to go on with your separate lives without pining much.”
Kuric gave a curt nod. “Well and fine. But that doesn’t address the issue of interference with the competition.”
Bitty Kragan shook her head. “Unintentional at best, and likely had no effect on the outcome of the race. The contact was brief, and early enough in the race that even if she had gotten the squirrel, she would have still made up the time.”
Amber shrugged, her scent neutral. “I agree it was unintentional. And it will likely happen again because even if they’re aware of it, it will be difficult for them to control. I suggest a time penalty or an extra challenge against the racer and nothing more.”
Rabi rubbed his eyes. The scent of his frustration was strong, like burning cat fur. He got up and walked out of the tent and the others followed. The bear alphas were waiting outside.
“I’ve heard the evidence and made my decision. Rachel Washington will be assessed a penalty for unintentional interference. Instead of five mice or a white mouse at the second hunting leg, she must catch all six mice in the allotted time.”
The news made its way to the announcer. “We have a penalty flag on the play, everyone!”
Adults turned away from games of horseshoes and children stopped playing egg-toss to listen.
“Rachel Washington has received a penalty for unintentional interference!” Boos and angry comments rose from the crowd. “But it’s not all bad news! She’s mated to someone. We’ll let you know more as we know it.” Shouts of excitement replaced the booing, and people broke into groups to discuss the events.
Dalvin wanted to go hide in a tree somewhere. This was not the way he wanted Rachel to find out—from strangers at the finish line. And he didn’t even know who was mated to whom, or whether it was a real mating. Everyone was just guessing so far.
“Can I please get back to doing my job?” he asked generally, not sure who was making which decisions at this point.
Amber shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Mating isn’t a disability. People work with it every day—including your fellow Wolven agent, Alek. Go back to whatever you were doing.”
Kuric didn’t object, so Dalvin sprinted back to the small steel storage shed that was doubling as a jail. Claire was sitting across from Tamir, just staring at him. The traitor was squirming in his seat, fidgeting more with each passing second. Alek stood behind Claire, with a hand on her shoulder. Power radiated out of Claire in a wave that lapped at the edge of Dalvin’s consciousness. He felt pressure to do the right thing. To not harm anyone.
He almost smiled, remembering Claire’s unique gift—empathy. She was tr
ying to project emotions at Tamir, to make him want to cooperate.
It wasn’t working. Or at least not as intended. Tamir let out a bark of a laugh. “I am doing the right thing already. I have no guilt to feel, witch.”
No, too obvious. Look deeper. Those were Rachel’s thoughts. Abruptly Dalvin could see her searching for a path through thick branches. She was right. The upper fly-through would hang her up on the other side, where the space between the branches was filled with needles.
Look deeper. Something grabbed at his memory, or maybe it was a memory of Rachel’s. He pulled Tamir to his feet by his shirt, then shoved him against the cold metal shed wall. Tamir sneered at him, but Dalvin spoke firmly, without emotion.
“You made a critical mistake, Tamir. You spoke French to the serving girl at the restaurant in Loznica. We’ve already picked her up. What do you suppose she’ll tell us when a king cobra wraps her in his coils and starts questioning her? Such a pretty little thing. Will she bleed before the venom stops her heart?”
The bear shifter’s eyes widened, and he showed fear for the first time. “She is a child! You wouldn’t dare harm her!”
Dalvin shrugged and released him to land in a heap on the floor, turning his back dismissively. “Eh. You know how Ahmad is. He can be somewhat … heavy-handed.”
Tamir pushed himself to his feet, using the wall as a brace. His scent was angry, with the tang of fear laced through it. He spat out his words as though he had venom himself: “Very well. You win. Just keep that viper away from my daughter.”
Claire and Alek looked at Dalvin in surprise. His daughter? Wow, nailed that one! He reached out to Bitty through the group mind. Find one of the Council members. Have them tell whoever is left at the Serbian camp to pick up a waitress named Dejana at the Macak café in Loznica. Hold her for questioning.
At Dalvin’s nod, Claire vacated her chair and Dalvin sat down. Alek hauled Tamir back into his seat. Dalvin stared across the table at the man who had been his superior until just an hour or so earlier, who had taken a strip of his hide. “So, talk.”
* * *
Rachel was flying harder than she ever had, but also flying faster. Energy surged through her, and she flapped and dove for all she was worth, threading the needle of the narrow canyon, twisting and turning to avoid outcroppings hidden in shadows. She didn’t realize at first that she had to touch each of the markers. There were little packets taped on them that sent a fine mist of yellow powder into the air.
Figures they forgot to mention this. Wait, hadn’t they? Hadn’t she heard something like that? Below her, the bears did the same, racing over rocks that shifted underfoot, shooting pink or blue powder into the air. In some cases, the powder dispensers were mounted so the bears had to reach down to them from a ledge; other times, they were high and the racers had to stretch or jump up.
Who the hell placed these things? Spider-Man? Whoever it was had been an amazingly skillful flyer, taping markers on the walls under ledges, behind tree trunks jutting out from sheer rock, and inside cracks like the one that had held the mouse. She hadn’t found and triggered as many dispensers as the bears had, and they were both ahead of her. She had to make up time, and fast.
She flapped hard when she hit the last marker, planning to overtake the bears as they reached the flat ground leading to Luna Lake. She heard a roar of pain and her bird insisted she find the source. There hadn’t been enough meat on this flight and she was getting hungry. Pain might mean food.
Kiting over, Rachel saw Larissa slamming her whole body into Anica, trying to push the smaller bear off the narrow path out of the canyon. The ledge led to a bridge onto the flat ground. The canyon floor was hundreds of feet below. Another hard shove and the Serbian bear’s back feet slid into open air. She scrambled for footing.
If she fell, Rachel knew Anica might not survive. Screw the competition! Rachel narrowed her wings into a dive, heading straight for Larissa, who was edging in for a final push beneath a row of pine trees jutting out from the rock face. Rachel beat her wings against the bear, causing her to back away, bawling. Anica got her feet under her and started to run for the canyon exit. But Larissa wasn’t done. She leaped forward, reaching for Anica’s back leg. Rachel went for her again. She thinks someone should explore the canyon? Maybe it should be her.
She’d just lowered her talons to grab the bear’s back when a sharp crack filled the air.
She screamed. A dime-size hole had been torn through the feathers of one wing. What the hell? She’d been shot! Looking around frantically, she spotted movement at the top of the cliff. Rachel heard more firing, saw dust kicking up around both bears. They scrambled for cover, forgetting their fight.
Maybe the attack wasn’t related to the competition, since the person was shooting at all of them? But why would anyone be shooting at any of them? Rachel flew high, then swooped down, trying to get a look at the person with the gun. There wasn’t much light in the canyon, so Rachel opened her eyes wide, letting the moonlight turn the night into day. The world came alive with bright gray that offset the darkest shadows. Mice, snakes, and insects became glowing beacons to hunt. But she was looking for bigger prey, and found it. Hidden among the bushes at the top of the canyon was a man, wearing something on his head—probably night-vision goggles—and carrying a rifle.
Keeping her wings tight and silent, Rachel swooped toward him. As she passed directly overhead, she reached out and grabbed not the man, but the weapon—ripping it out of his hands and sending it over the edge, into the canyon.
That the man was fast enough to stand up and grab at her leg was startling. More startling still was that she recognized him: Samit! How was he back in town? She fluttered up, out of reach, spinning around him like a feathered helicopter. “What are you doing, Samit? That’s your sister down there!”
He growled, pointing at the bears, who had taken shelter behind a rock. “She’s no sister of mine! She is a thing who turned me into demon!” Samit was throwing off waves of chaotic energy. He really was a rogue. It wasn’t an act. Or, at least, it wasn’t one now.
This was big trouble. She couldn’t leave—what if Samit shifted and went after Anica? But she couldn’t stop him either. None of the three competitors could, not even if they all worked together. An alpha would barely be strong enough to contain a rogue.
At least, a local alpha. But there were alphas in Luna Lake right now who probably were strong enough. And didn’t Liz say she was following their trail?
Rachel reached out through the group link, searching for one particular person. Dalvin! Whatever you’re doing, I’m sorry, but this is important. Samit’s gone rogue. I mean, really rogue.
Dalvin and Bitty responded nearly simultaneously. Samit’s on a plane, on the way back to Serbia.
She looked down again, to be sure. He was still jumping up at her, trying to grab her leg. No, he’s not. He’s in the canyon, in Leg 2 of the race. He shot me.
White sparkles bloomed in her vision, making her dizzy. What?! Dalvin’s voice in her head was panicked. Are you okay?
Fine. Well, sort of. I lost a few feathers. He shot at Anica and Larissa too, and I don’t know if he hit either of them. Is Liz out here somewhere? I took his rifle, but we can’t just leave him.
Bitty’s voice filled her mind. Leave him. Liz is just behind you.
She couldn’t. Liz would never find Samit in the dark. Unless—
“There ain’t nothing that I can do or nothing I can say, that folks don’t criticize me. But I’m going to do just as I want to anyway.” Rachel opened her beak and let the words flow out, let the moonlight fill her and add to the song.
“What the hell you doing? Shut up, stupid bird! Owls are not sing!” Samit clutched his ears, ran in a circle, then sat down and began to rock back and forth, hands clutched to his head. “Stop singing!”
She switched to a version of “The Lord’s Prayer” that she’d heard sung by a bunch of choirs. Maybe a little prayer was needed right now. Too many
rogues in this place. It couldn’t be the will of any higher power to want this.
“Our Father … which art in heeaaaven.” A pair of voices from below picked up the song. Apparently, it had crossed international boundaries.
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Samit was rocking faster and faster, chaotic energy coming off him in waves. Rachel was getting tired of flying but had to stay in the air. Pulling on reserves she didn’t know she had, she flew even higher, letting her song be a beacon for Liz.
Okay, Chelle, Dalvin said in her head. We got you on video. Liz is on it.
Samit had buried his head under his arms. He was curled in a fetal position and, oddly, his energy was calming down. From her song? She spotted Liz, in badger form, making her way through the brush.
“On earth … as it is … in heeeaaven.”
Liz disappeared from view, and Rachel saw a plume of what looked like dirt fly into the air.
Moments later, Samit plummeted, screaming, into a hole that opened under him. An instant later, Samit fell silent, and Liz, still a badger, emerged from the ground, dragging Samit behind her. Rachel saw that the young man was wrapped top to bottom in what looked like netting; she could feel the press of intense magic that was holding him firmly in place. Liz rose up on her back legs.
“All clear. I’ll get him back to town.”
Rachel sank into the canyon, toward the rock where the bears were hiding. “All clear,” she called. “Liz has the shooter.”
The brown bear, Larissa, streaked out from behind the rock and raced for the bridge. Thinking that Anica was scared, Rachel called, “It’s okay, Anica. Come on out. Liz caught the gunman.”
The little bear didn’t even poke her head out. Worried, Rachel landed on the boulder and immediately saw Anica lying on her side on the ground, barely breathing. Crap! Had she been hit? She smelled blood, but it wasn’t prey blood, so her bird had no interest. She fluttered down to the narrow ledge and carefully walked over.
