Grizzly Love (12 page)

“No one knows where he was. He came back and never said a word.”

“If you suspected him and knew you had a traitor, then why didn’t you arrest him or question him?” Brody asked as he staggered to his feet.

“Because the dirty bird was sly. He was in some of the convoys that were attacked. He even came back injured a few times.”

“Giving himself a plausible alibi to keep his cover,” Gene mused aloud, already losing his pallor. The men who’d returned to Kodiak Point from war had some of the toughest constitutions Jess had ever seen. It would take more than a little poison to bring them down.

Jess often wondered how their mates handled their special brand of toughness or their mental issues. As a person who dealt with trauma and death on a regular basis—shifters not being the cute and cuddly creatures some might picture—Jess couldn’t imagine going home every day to someone haunted by darkness and nightmares.

Perhaps that was why Travis drew her. He lacked that hard edge emanating from the men who’d served during wartime. He still saw life with a joyous enthusiasm that was contagious. He took the punches life dished out and learned from them, or so he claimed. He also never let anything keep him down. He always kept his smile.

He also jumped on the chance to go off and do stupid things. Like volunteer to join a search party for the missing traitor, Freddy.

“I want to be part of the search party that goes looking for him.”

The rhino shook his head. “You’re still too wet behind the ears. You’ll just get in the way.”

To Jess’ surprise, Boris took Travis’ side. “You saw him fight. That’s only some of the skills he’s been taught. The cub’s good to go. I’ll vouch for him and make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble.”

“Ah, I knew you loved me.”

Yeah, Boris loved Travis so much he grabbed him in a headlock and told him to be quiet or he’d rearrange his neck until he could look at his own ass.

“We’ll all go,” Brody announced. “Just give us a minute to change clothes and clean up, then we’ll be ready to head out.”

Go? They’d just been poisoned. “You can’t go anywhere. You’re sick.” As the medical expert in the group, it behooved her to make an attempt, even if it was doomed to failure.

“Was sick. I’m already feeling better. I think I threw up most of the almond crap, and my body is purging the rest. By the time we’re organized to go, I’ll be fine.”

“You better be, or I’ll have you tied to a bed,” Layla announced as she swept into the tent.

“Bait, I thought we were going to keep our bedroom antics private,” Brody teased his mate, and she blushed, their relationship still new enough for her to get embarrassed.

“Don’t make me get the shock collar back out, Thud,” she threatened.

Boris snickered then grimaced. “I think I’d prefer getting Tasered to this feeling.”

A crease of concern marred Layla’s forehead. “What’s this I hear about a poisoning?”

The group quickly brought Layla up to date about what happened. At the end of the tale, her hair was floating and her eyes sparked. “This makes me very, very angry.”

“Aren’t you the cutest? Just like that little Martian on Bugs Bunny,” Brody teased. “I’m fine, sweetheart. It will take more than poison to kill my hairy ass.”

Layla snorted. “I’m well aware you have a stomach of iron. I still remember what you ate when we were in the midst of escape fifty-seven. I’m still trying to digest those roots you had me gnaw on. I’m more peeved about all the extra laundry this just created. I hope you’re not expecting me to wash that mess.” She wrinkled her nose as she pointed to his soiled shirt.

“Where’s my sympathy, Bait? I was poisoned.” Brody rubbed his belly and tried to look pathetic.

Layla didn’t fall for it. “Use a bucket. And wipe with a towel, napkin, something other than your sleeve.”

“Most mates would be relieved their lover didn’t die.”

“Fine. I’m glad you’re alive.” Sarcastically said, but Jess could read between the lines, sensing the teasing was a mask for the worry—and the deep anger. It didn’t take a genius to note Layla struggled to keep her emotions in check. It was evident in her stiff posture, the turbulence in her violet eyes, and the fact that her hair danced from an invisible wind. Most uncanny of all, the air in the tent hummed, as if imbued with energy, an otherness that just chilled a person.

“Since there’s no talking you out of it, then we’ll meet by the gate at—” The rhino checked his watch. “Twenty-two hundred hours.”

Given what they’d been told earlier, Jess couldn’t help but ask, “What happened to not going out at night? I thought it was too dangerous.”

“Plans have changed. We can’t allow Weller to get too far ahead, or we might never catch him.”

Good point and, really, given the camp proved less than secure, night or day, did it matter when they left? “I’ll need to grab some supplies if that’s okay so I can repack my med kit.” She’d gone through a lot of gauze and antiseptic wipes during her tending of Travis.

“Twenty-two hundred it is. Sweetheart, can we have a word?” Brody ushered Layla out while the rest of them filed out after.

Boris and Gene strode off to the left in order to quickly hit the shower tent and sluice the distinctive smell of sickness from their body. Jess went in the opposite direction because she wanted to hit the field hospital. She wanted a full kit for this trip, plus she intended to grab some B12 to administer to those who’d ingested the poison. It would hopefully help to bind any remaining cyanide in their bodies and expel it safely. Or so a Google search on cyanide poisoning indicated as she tapped away on her satellite phone.

She had a silent shadow as she walked and typed. Travis, who’d not contributed to the conversation, waited until they got out of sight before he mistakenly tried to tell her what to do. “You don’t have to go on this trip. Actually, I think it would be better if you stayed here.”

She halted between a pair of dark tents, not sensing anyone nearby, which gave them a measure of privacy. “Are you giving me an order?”

“No. You can do what you like. I’m more hoping you’ll take my advice and stay where it’s safe. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Immediately, she reached out to feel his forehead. His warm skin didn’t show hints of cold sweat or a fever. He caught her hand before she could snatch it back. “I’m not sick. I’m talking more about a gut reaction. We’re going after a lunatic, capable of anything. You could get hurt.”

His concern coiled around her warmly. “As could you, and everyone else who’s going. I understand it’s going to be dangerous, but I refuse to stay behind while you hunt my husband down. This is my clan he hurt. Mine. He’s a traitor to our kind. My mate or not, I can’t ignore what he’s done.” Because in the shifter world, they didn’t show mercy to those who intentionally set out to hurt their own. They didn’t get caught up in lengthy due process with lawyers and other stalling tactics. Guilty was punished. Swiftly. And if the crime was vile enough, there were no second chances.

A low rumble vibrated from Travis. “Don’t call him that.”

“What? My mate?”

Travis grimaced at the word. “He’s not your mate. Given what he’s done, I think it’s pretty obvious Frederick is a lot of things, but your mate? Never.”

Given the fact that she could kiss and desire another, she kind of agreed. But in the eyes of her kind, she was still technically married. Hopefully not for long. “I intend to rid myself of that problem once I get my claws on him.”

Enough was enough. A woman could handle only so much humiliation before snapping. A hawk could be civilized for only so long before she needed to soar and hunt. Time to let her feral huntress loose.

Not giving Travis a chance to say anything, she brushed past him and prepared herself for their departure.

Getting herself physically ready proved simple. Mentally though? Totally different matter.

Twenty-two hundred hours arrived. However, their planned excursion didn’t happen as scheduled.

It seemed treacherous Frederick had left them another surprise in the form of sand in the gas tanks of the vehicles available to them. It took the fuel filters on a few of the vehicles they first started to clue them in. The sergeant called a temporary hold on leaving while they dumped the contaminated gas in the tampered vehicles.

Since this process took time, it meant they got a few hours of sleep. Or, in Travis’ case, restless tossing and turning as he relived the kiss with Jess.

He’d expected some level of fireworks. No man could lust after a woman as long as he had and not want to combust. Yet, he could have never truly expected the raging inferno that consumed him.

Every sense ignited as soon as their lips touched. She enthralled him so deeply he almost turned into a wild bear when their kiss was rudely interrupted.

Wouldn’t that have gone over well, him chasing after the human private as a grizzly, all because he’d finally gotten somewhere with Jess.

One step forward.

A half-dozen back.

It didn’t take a genius to guess she probably regretted it already. Never mind she’d enjoyed it. He knew she’d find an excuse to deny what they shared. What was meant to be.

Didn’t she yet grasp and understand that she meant everything to him, which was why it was driving him nuts that she insisted on coming. Bad enough that Boris and Brody appeared a little green around the gills still, but their determination wouldn’t let them back down. Gene was in fine form today, if his enthusiastic scowl was anything to go by. The sergeant didn’t seem affected at all. Then again, sunglasses could hide a lot.

As for Jess, the circles under her eyes spoke of a sleepless night. Caused by her worry over this mission and who they chased, or dare he hope that he played a small part in her mental turmoil?

As they clambered into the various Jeeps, their rugged four-by-four capability a must for the terrain they would have to travel through, he ensured they shared a seat.

Jess didn’t say a word, didn’t glance at him once, but she did allow her thigh to rest alongside his. Given the seat provided more than ample space for them both, he took it as a sign.

The miniature convoy of three headed out, waved through the security checkpoint by guards toting rifles.

The sun blazed down on the vehicles, hot and merciless. Despite the helmets and visors they wore, the wind from the open-top vehicle barreled in. The hot air held hints of dust, a fine grit that settled on everything. It tasted especially vile on the tongue, especially when washed down with a sip of tepid water.

The landscape proved different, much different than Alaska. The dry heat and lack of greenery bothered his bear. It grumbled, ill at ease in this strange land. At home, for all that the older guys ribbed him, Travis felt confident, in charge. As a grizzly, he was top of the food chain.

Out here, he didn’t know what to expect, or what he might encounter. How would he fare in a battle against a predator born and bred in this exotic place?

While he did miss his mother—so sue him for being a mama’s boy—he couldn’t deny the exhilaration of the adventure. Despite not knowing what to expect or how things would turn out, Travis hummed with pent-up energy. Adrenaline, a man’s best friend—and leading cause of trouble.

Another source of his desire for action resulted from a need for retribution against Frederick. Not because of the fight. Travis never held a grudge over someone who physically bested him. He just worked harder. His need for vengeance wasn’t because the cowardly prick had poisoned his best friend, Boris—who would surely mount Travis’ head on a wall if he heard himself referred as his BFF in public.

The revenge Travis sought was for Jess. Sweet, hardworking Jess, who deserved so much more out of life than to be chained to an asshat who not only didn’t appreciate her but also betrayed her in every way possible.

There wasn’t a clan he knew that would punish Travis for resorting to their wilder moral code, which basically said, strongest wins all.

In the animal kingdom, the strongest male mated the female. In the shifter one, while civility had overwritten many of their roots, this was one that surfaced every now and then.

Of course, I might have to compete for the chance to kill the sucker.

Not bad enough Boris, Brody, and Gene were out to get Frederick, even Jess, sweet, saving-lives Doctor Jess, held murder in her eye.

It totally made her sexier.

The Jeeps jostled and bounced on the rutted road, especially once they left the paved area for a hard-packed dirt one. In an odd stroke of luck, it seemed Frederick’s vehicle bore a functioning GPS tracker. Was Travis the only one who thought it odd that Frederick would conveniently give them a road map to his location? Surely the soldier wasn’t that stupid?

The rhino sergeant seemed to think so, as he claimed the devices almost unanimously malfunctioned so the wily raven probably assumed the one in the Jeep he’d stolen didn’t work.

Also odd was the seeming careless haste of their travel. For a man who had repeatedly warned of the dangers of ambush and hidden mines, the Sarge seemed more concerned with speed in chasing after Frederick than watching for trouble.

The incident from the day before still fresh in his mind, Travis watched the flowing scenery keenly. His mentor, Boris, had once relayed to him—during a rare moment of bonding after he pounced out of a blind and tackled Travis to the ground—that the key to spotting an ambush was to note what stuck out of place.

In other words, strange glints, out-of-place colors, a lack of natural sounds, easy indications that perhaps required investigation. When Travis wheezed out—because Boris relayed this tidbit while sitting on his chest—that Boris had hidden behind a snow blind, the moose pointed out that Travis had other senses than his eyes. His reply that Boris didn’t smell like a predator— being a moose and all—and his bear didn’t even register it resulted in him learning that it wasn’t just lips that could get chapped. A properly delivered snowjob could chafe the skin on a face too.

He also learned that day that just because an animal didn’t bear sharp claws or canine teeth didn’t mean they weren’t a force to be reckoned with. Even the most benign of creatures could turn feral under the right circumstances and with the right weapon.