Raptor's Peak: Switch of Fate 4

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Raptor's Peak: Switch of Fate 4 Page 5

by Grace Quillen


  Jameson didn’t only mean that, though. He pinned Aven with a look and asked, “Can you work with him?”

  Aven considered hard. “I’m cool with him, for now.” Until he had a reason not to be. A real one, that didn’t rely on Aven’s warped senses.

  Jameson opened the door and they left the office for the louder, larger space. They stood in the corner for a moment, Jameson scanning the crowd of shifters. The Keeper started to move, walking slowly along the wall near the weight machines, then turning and moving toward the Sparring ring. Aven followed. He wasn’t done.

  Now that he’d told Jameson the deal, Aven could see that his mind needed a tune-up. He needed time to get his head together. Maybe even needed to track down whoever that female was, make sure she wasn’t Dakota, and see if she wanted to play. That always set him right.

  Aven spoke to Jameson. “I need to lighten up my to-do list for a few days. You’ve got enough new shifters here to start a revolution. How about you give me a day or two off?” Jameson controlled Aven’s search and rescue schedule and his Cause schedule, and he was fair, but eagles needed time to stretch their wings.

  Jameson stopped walking and assessed him calmly and Aven knew he wasn’t getting his days off, but Aven could also read that Jameson thought he had a good reason. Jameson waved at someone, beckoning, then turned back to Aven and cast his voice low. “I have a new shifter I need raptor recon on. Shiloh says something’s off with her.” He nodded as she came closer. “But hey, you’ll have an extra set of hands.”

  Aven growled at his boss. He didn’t need an intern, he needed a day off.

  But then she was there, or her presence at least, moving in behind him. Bleeding sexy into the space between them, even if she didn’t know she was doing it. It was the female. The one who’d been watching him during the fight. Aven’s blood heated at the thought. He turned for a first glimpse. Yes, she was sexier than sexy, but no… she was Dakota.

  Aven suppressed a groan, but it was a close thing. Everything about Dakota Manteo, his buddy’s little sister, new Cause wanna-be, attracted him. She was about five-eight, her body strong and inviting, dark brown hair cut in that straight style that grazed her wide jaw. She wore black leather boots with a low, shit-kicking heel, boot-cut jeans with a black belt, and a deep crimson blouse that flattered her every curve.

  And her mouth. Holy hell. Aven would run ten miles in full gear to taste those lips. He’d tried not to linger on Dakota’s mouth when he looked at the picture Dallas had sent, but seeing her lips up close took the choice away. He wanted to kiss her for hours.

  He raised his eyes to hers, expecting… Aven didn’t know what he was expecting. What he got was more heat, more fire, searing the air between them. Her eyes blazed, whispering secret desires for only Aven to hear, gasping for him to make each one a reality. He was surprised the shifters in her path didn’t have blisters from being so close. She scorched Aven from the inside.

  Dakota’s scent was sultry, a feline thunderstorm rolling across the desert, bringing lightning and steam. Aven couldn’t stop surreptitiously inhaling that scorching, heady heat. He burned his lungs with it, loving it. Her scent was reminiscent of Dallas', but at the same time all her own, Aven tried to place the difference. Dallas had always smelled like a mix of human and jaguar, but with something extra sprinkled on top, something Aven had never placed before or since. Dakota smelled more like those un-placeable sprinkles. It almost reminded him of Cora, Jameson’s mate. Except Cora’s scent, like all the Breath switches’, was green and light. Fresh.

  He used his raptor senses last, feeling for her mood, for anything he could glean about her personality. Everything was burnt to ash by the fiery heat she put off. That she aimed right at him.

  Aven felt eyes on him. He stopped sucking in breaths and glanced at Jameson. Jameson’s eyebrow was about to raise. Aven muttered, “Anything you say, boss.”

  Good thing Jameson wasn’t a raptor. The old man would be scandalized at what Aven was thinking and feeling at that moment.

  * * *

  Dakota watched Jameson and Aven talk until Jameson waved her over, then she headed in. Boy, did she find that eagle attractive. He stared at her with deep brown eyes, drawing her closer. Dakota couldn’t have stopped if she wanted to. She didn’t want to. The pull was delicious, warm. Like hot silk wrapping around her, intoxicating her with its rich, satin depths.

  Aven smiled, a playful, predatory smile, the lines around his eyes crinkling just right. Dakota couldn’t discern the voice in her head through the fog of lust rushing over her, but she was pretty sure it said something like, oh shit, he knows exactly what I want to do to him.

  Different species of shifters usually weren’t attracted to each other. Her grandpa had always said that was nature keeping the shifters from going extinct, because different species couldn’t cross-breed. Just like with wild animals; an elephant and a dog could fall in love, but babies were out of the question.

  The attraction Dakota felt blew all that out of the sky. She had watched the fight between Aven and Maze with rapt attention, her heart thundering in her chest. But not with fear, like during the big cats’ fight. What Dakota had felt when she watched Aven tear into Maze had been primal. A female recognizing the male that would fight for her, beside her, even fight her if it was what she needed. And Dakota needed it, however he wanted to give it to her.

  Aven spoke, startling her into the here and now.

  “Found you,” he said.

  Found her? Yes, sir, he had. Now what? Maybe he could move in close, grab her tight, maybe pin her up against something? What was it like to mess around with a shifter? Dakota eyed Aven. Probably lots of fun.

  “Was I hiding?” she said, aware of more than Aven’s eyes on her, keeping her flirt non-existent, but oh boy did she want to flirt.

  “Dallas called me this morning.”

  Dakota’s jaw dropped, all pretense of calm forgotten. Her brother did what? That nosy, overbearing sonofa… just because his own life was going off the rails. In fact, did Aven even know what Dallas had done to his foot? Dakota bet not.

  Dakota reined in her temper with a yank, clapping her mouth shut. Now was not the time to look like a hothead. Dallas might be pushy, but she trusted him not to have shared her secret. He never had before.

  “Nice to meet you, Aven,” she said, her voice pleasant, for the moment.

  “Oh, good. You two know each other,” Jameson said dryly.

  Aven gestured at her, talking to Jameson. “Dakota is my buddy Dallas' sister. The jaguar who took one in the foot. She saw the Ingrav and moved here so fast, his head is still spinning.”

  He said it with a tinge of amusement, like he was impressed that she’d wrecked Dallas' chill. Jameson looked directly at Dakota, a little more openness in his eyes, maybe, than had been there before.

  Aven pointed at him. “Dakota, meet Jameson Montreat. Head shifter of The Cause, Keeper of the Forest, bound to Breath Coven, giant white wolf, yada yada yada.” His smirk said he was busting Jameson’s balls. Still a smartass to his superiors, then. Dallas had always said raptors didn't respect authority. Apparently being able to fly did that to a person.

  Dakota shook Jameson’s hand. “I’ve been Arizona Highway Patrol for years, now, but this is bigger.” She gazed around, letting Jameson take her measure for a moment, then looked him straight in the eye. “Where do I sign up?”

  Jameson nodded once. “Aven needs another set of hands. Take your orders from him for now. Come see me again in three days and we’ll talk.” Dakota resisted the urge to grin. She still had a shot.

  “Where are you staying?” Aven asked.

  “Maze and I found a hotel.”

  Aven’s jaw flexed under his beard. He spoke through gritted teeth. “You’re here with the hawk?”

  As if they’d conjured him up, Maze appeared from the locker room, fully dressed and scanning the enormous space. He spotted Dakota and lifted his chin at her at the same time that James
on motioned him over with a wave.

  Maze came, his eyes moving from Dakota to Aven and back. All the friendliness she’d seen in him over the last two days was gone. Nothing like almost getting a toe bit off to sour a mood, she guessed.

  Jameson held his hand out to Maze. The two males shared a firm shake as they traded names. Jameson got right to the point. “We might have use for another raptor. You sticking around?”

  Maze nodded in return, more sober than Dakota had ever seen him. His eyes flicked to Aven before he answered. “For as long as I can.”

  Aven dismissed Maze outright and turned to her. “I need to head out. You want to bunk with me for a few days? I told Dallas I wouldn’t let you out of my sight.” His eyes twinkled with his words, as if he knew how much Dakota did not want to be babysat, but his gaze slid sideways to Maze and the twinkle disappeared.

  Maze was looking back at her with raised eyebrows. Right. Was it rude to ditch a guy she barely knew for one she’d just met? Dakota pulled Maze to the side, leaving Aven and Jameson with their heads together, discussing something she couldn’t hear. Hopefully not her.

  Maze didn’t wait for Dakota to explain. His eyes were full of a no-nonsense hardness that she hadn’t seen before. He spoke in a low voice. “We don’t have to stay together. I just wanted to check in with you.”

  “I’m good,” Dakota said. “Now you don’t have to sleep in a tree.”

  Maze’s mouth twitched, and for a moment Dakota saw familiar good humor in his eyes. “Tell Luxe I’ll call her.”

  “She’s heard that before,” Dakota joked. Maze gave her a searching look, then disappeared into the crowd of shifters surrounding them, even thicker now than when they’d arrived.

  Aven was ready for her when she turned back to them.

  “Are we a go?” he said.

  She wanted to say yes, but saw Shiloh approaching quickly, elbowing males out of her way.

  Dakota bluffed hard, thinking she only had about a twenty percent shot of getting out of there with her dignity. “But my bout with Shiloh-” she said.

  Jameson waved them off. “I’ll handle it.” He turned to block Shiloh’s path.

  Yes. Dakota was not going to wait around for Shiloh’s reaction. Out the back door they went, Dakota secretly hoping Aven knew where to find vampires, or that he kept a few in his closet, something. She had three days.

  The rushing Nantahala River was in front of them, only thirty feet away, but still quiet in comparison to the din they’d just left. Dakota looked over at Aven and turned toward the parking lot. “Where are you parked?”

  “I flew.”

  The memory of the eagle she’d seen earlier warmed her from the inside out. Could it be…? She looked at Aven with new eyes, getting warmer by the moment.

  Aven was still talking. “I’ve got a government cabin, next forest over.”

  Dakota gave him a look. “Witness Protection?”

  “Forest Ranger. They figure if they keep us on the mountain, when it snows, we can’t bitch about the commute.”

  “If they knew you could fly, you’d never get a day off,” Dakota cracked, thrilled to be making shifter jokes. Aven laughed and her tummy fluttered, like it did sometimes around males with broad shoulders who fought in mid-air and looked at her like they wanted to kiss every inch of skin on her body.

  She pointed out Luxe and Aven gave a low whistle. “Nice ride.”

  Dakota smiled at him. “Top down or up?”

  “Down,” he said, his voice low. “I love to see the stars.”

  Dakota’s body heated more. Her, too.

  Aven changed the subject, looking at her curiously. “You didn’t want to fight Shiloh?”

  Dakota hesitated. Should she tell Aven she couldn’t shift? Of everyone she’d met tonight, he was the most likely to understand.

  Not yet, she decided. She didn’t know enough about The Cause yet. Aven might be duty-bound to report her or something. If she could pull this off, maybe no one would ever have to know.

  Dakota turned the key. Luxe came to life with a purr. “Nah, I didn’t want to get this shirt bloody.”

  Chapter 10 - Cat Under A Hot Man’s Roof

  Aven watched Dakota from the Mustang’s passenger seat as he directed her to his cabin. He tried not to stare, but he couldn’t get enough of looking at her. Top to bottom, she was the most attractive female he’d ever met. And that heat she gave off hadn’t quit.

  They talked about her ex-job, Arizona, the cross-country drive, her almost-fight with Shiloh at the Bear Claw. All small talk, but it didn’t feel that way to Aven. He felt like he was reading a book that was wide-open, a surprise on every page. Dakota’s wide jaw and generous mouth made him wonder what it took to get a big, loud laugh out of her.

  Or to make her lips quiver with desire. Aven wondered about that, too, though he knew he shouldn’t.

  It was getting hard to remember why, though. Bro-code rules said Aven shouldn’t hit on his buddy’s sister, but Dakota was no teenager. Aven would have to be batshit crazy to pass her by just because Dallas was her brother. Hell, wasn’t knowing her family a good thing?

  The wind whipped Dakota’s chin-length hair around her head in a wild frenzy that she didn’t seem to mind at all. A slight smile curved her full lips. A proud contentment flowed from the driver’s side to rub up against Aven’s raptor senses.

  She was happy. He was glad. More than glad.

  Aven tried not to overdo his raptor bit when it came to women. He preferred the type who used their words. But with Dakota it was unavoidable. Her scorching heat and barely-buried sensuality left Aven feeling compelled and comforted at the same time. He liked having her in the background, tripping his senses.

  Aw, who the hell was he kidding? He wanted her all over him.

  Distracted, he didn’t see their turn coming up until they were right on top of it. “Left here,” he said, too late.

  Dakota should have overshot the turn. Most people would have. But she handled the Mustang with finesse, braking and turning perfectly until they were speeding up the packed dirt drive to his cabin. Aven’s senses told him it had been the most fun she’d had all night. She liked muscle cars, and she liked muscling them into line. Aven filed that note away for later. In case he ever wanted to take her on a date or something.

  That driving could come in handy on a hunt, too. Aven hated that he was evaluating her for The Cause. As far as he was concerned, Aven wasn’t thinking about The Cause at all right now, no matter what orders Jameson gave him. He had a houseguest. He was taking some time off, dammit.

  Dakota followed the dirt drive. Aven’s cabin came into view. One level, thirty feet square, with stone walls that looked more quaint than primitive. A chimney rose from one end of the shingled roof, for a fireplace it wasn’t cold enough to use yet, but would be in a month. A small porch stuck off the front, with two rustic rocking chairs Aven had never sat in, in the year-plus he’d lived here. Why rock when he could fly?

  Dakota pulled into the bare dirt parking space in front of the cabin and killed the lights on the car. “Holy cats, I bet you get some good stargazing out here.”

  Aven smiled sideways at her. “‘Holy cats?’ I thought it was “Great Cat’. That’s what Riot says.”

  Dakota’s laugh said she liked them both.

  “My grandfather said ‘holy cats’,” she told him. “I didn’t know any other shifters in Phoenix, but now that I’m surrounded, I thought I’d try it out.”

  Aven smiled at the heavens as he unfolded his long legs from the coupe’s passenger seat. Dakota still hadn’t budged from the driver’s seat, her face cast up to the sky. Reflected stars sparkled in her pretty eyes, making something turn over in his chest.

  He shook his head and reached into the back for Dakota’s suitcase. “This all you got?”

  She shook her head and got out of the car, stepping to the trunk. He did the same.

  “I have a firearm I’ll need to secure,” she said.
/>   Serendipity. Aven loved women, he loved firearms, and he loved women who carried firearms. She lifted a black metal box from the trunk. Aven recognized the fingerprint-calibrated locks from his own gun safe. If she busted out the hand grenades, that was it, Aven was wife-ing her. Dallas would understand.

  The thought of his friend sobered Aven, making him stare seriously at the weapon.

  Dakota caught him looking. “Sig Sauer P-226 with the thin grips.”

  Holy shit. She was not playing around. “Nice,” he said, not even trying to hide how impressed he was with her tastes. “Got any more on you?”

  “Glock 43,” she said. Dakota’s wide mouth twitched. She threw him a challenging look. “And I think I’ll check out my bunk before I tell you where I keep it.”

  Aven grinned. “Ouch. Put the claws away, kitty.”

  Dakota threw him a smile that caught on his. The moment stretched. She held Aven’s eye for a breath, blinked, held again. He didn’t want to look away.

  She was thinking about it. Them. Aven could feel her, weighing one choice against the other. What had started out light, ended so heavy Aven could hardly hold it. But he wanted to.

  Aven matched Dakota’s serious gaze. He wanted her to know he was thinking about it, too. If they were fated, even Dallas wouldn’t be an obstacle.

  An owl hooted in the forest behind Aven’s cabin. Dakota blinked and turned her head in that direction, breaking their connection.

  He could still feel it, wanted her to look back so they could share that feeling again. But Dakota didn’t look back. Aven helped her put up the top on the Mustang before leading the way to his cabin’s porch.

  He opened the front door and swept his arm to indicate Dakota should go first. “It’s not big, but they remodeled all the cabins a couple years ago, so everything’s up-to-date.”

  The sofa and chair had frames made from branches and logs, with durable cushions in rich earth tones. The counters were sturdy laminate, the cabinets dark wood. Standard for cabins furnished on the government’s dime. All Aven had ever cared about was that the place was clean.

 

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