Saved by Wolves (Shifters Meet Their Mate Book 1) (8 page)

His steps slowed. Once she was safe, she’d probably want to head right back to wherever she’d come from. He’d have to give her a compelling reason to stay.

A hard hand on his shoulder wrenched him to a halt. “Where are you going?” Jackson growled. “We need to head back to the border.”

Marcus shrugged away from his touch and sped up. “I need to speak to my gran before I go. I’ll catch up.”

“That’s a lie. You’re going to see Kirra.”

“So what if I am? It’s none of your business.”

“We’re partners. Of course it’s my business. She’s dangerous,” Jackson said.

“Dangerous? How?”

“You barely know her and she’s already distracted you from your duties. I saw the way you acted last night—if I hadn’t stopped you, you would have offered to take her to Blue’s Hollow.”

“Distracted me? And what do you call your mauling her? You took advantage of her, and I should have—”

Jackson’s fist in his solar plexus drove the breath out of him.

“I didn’t take advantage of her. She was aroused. She wanted me,” Jackson said through clenched teeth. “She liked it.”

She did not. Marcus ducked his head and charged, barreling into Jackson headfirst. It felt like smashing into a tree, but his momentum took Jackson down.

They rolled in the damp grass. Marcus ended up on his front, face pressed into the ground, Jackson’s knee in his back, pressing the air from his lungs. He jerked up and to the side, throwing Jackson off, and hammered a fist into Jackson’s jaw. Hearing the thunk of his fist hitting flesh and seeing Jackson’s head snap back sent satisfaction and smugness surging through him.

Shaking his head, Jackson gained his feet. Wanting to take advantage of his disorientation, Marcus scrambled upright and attempted to charge again. Jackson sidestepped and stuck out a foot, catching Marcus in the shins. As Marcus pitched forward, Jackson’s hand pushed on his mid-back, helping him on his way.

Marcus hit the ground hard and flipped over just in time to see Jackson, his face partially shifted, bear down on him with an inarticulate roar. Jackson had lost control. The shock of it caught Marcus by surprise and slowed his reactions down. He raised his arms in defense a fraction of a second too late.

Jackson’s hands clenched around his throat, and Marcus gasped for air. Even if he’d wanted to—and he didn’t—there’d be no way to talk to Jackson in his state. His only defense was offense. Marcus grasped Jackson’s wide neck and squeezed, staring into his feral eyes. 

A faint buzzing filled his ears, and black dots danced in his vision. He tried to squeeze harder, but wasn’t sure if his fingers were responding to his brain’s commands. Everything was fading...

Ice-cold water hit his face. “What the—” he spluttered, spitting out water. Jackson’s hands had loosened from around his throat, and Marcus saw he was drenched as well.

“Are you two just about done?” his gran demanded, setting her bucket down. “I’ve heard of throwing cold water on dogs, but I never thought I’d have to do it to you two. You’re acting like Donovan when he doesn’t get his way. And you woke me up.” She planted her hands on her hips and glared, seeming more pissed off about having her sleep disturbed than anything else.

Marcus glanced at her house, wondering if they’d woken Kirra as well. Heat rose to his face when he thought about how they’d explain away acting like dueling bucks fighting for the same doe.

Gran was still talking, and he tuned back in. “... It doesn’t matter, anyway. You’re too late,” she said.

Too late? What did that mean? He shoved Jackson off him and surged to his feet. “What are you talking about, Gran?”

“You’re here for the girl, aren’t you? Oh, don’t try to give me that innocent look. I saw the way you both watched her at dinner. You looked like two starved Wolves ready to pounce on an unsuspecting rabbit. Well, the rabbit hopped off hours ago.” She crossed to her porch steps and sat, ankles neatly crossed. “It’s better that way, anyway.”

Jackson stormed past Gran and barged into the house, reappearing in the doorway seconds later, his face—fully human again—dark as a thundercloud. “She’s gone,” he said. “Where did she go? Why did you let her go?” He advanced on Gran, and Marcus moved to put his body between them, then stopped. What was he thinking? No matter how furious he was or how much he wanted to kill Marcus, Jackson would never harm his gran—he’d never seen the man so much as lift a finger to a woman or child.

Gran didn’t even blink at the huge enforcer scowling down at her. “I didn’t ‘let’ her do anything,” she said. “I was asleep. Anyway, she’s a grown woman. If she wanted to leave, who was I to stop her?”

“But where did she go? It’s dangerous out there. The Cats and the soldiers both want her.” Jackson’s fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white.

Leaning back, Gran cupped her chin in her hand. “Really? I didn’t know that part. What did she do to tick them off?”

“That’s what I was coming over to find out,” Marcus said, rubbing his chest. Unless he shifted to accelerate healing, it was going to be black and blue for days. Jackson’s punches carried the force of a sledgehammer. His only consolation was that no one would see his bruises. Not like the one already forming on Jackson’s jaw. The rawness of his throat contradicted that thought, and he pictured a ring of finger-shaped bruises encircling his neck. Well, at least Jackson would have matching bruises. He settled on the steps beside his gran and faced her, ignoring Jackson’s looming presence at his back. “This is serious, Gran. Why did she leave? She said she really needed to speak to the alpha—”

“She went to Blue’s Hollow,” Jackson interrupted.

“But how would she...” The faint guilt on his gran’s face gave him the answer. “You told her how to get there. Why?”

“I didn’t tell her anything, so you can stop accusing me of conspiring with her. She must have seen my maps last night—the one with Blue’s Hollow on it was missing when I got up. She’s obviously determined to go, Marcus, and she understands that you have other responsibilities. It’s not that far—she’ll be fine.”

The last time she’d been on her own, she’d been shot and almost drowned. He didn’t consider that “fine.” “I’m going after her,” he announced. No matter how much of a head start she had, he’d be able to easily catch up. “Dravin can take my shift,” he told Jackson.

“No, he can take mine,” Jackson countered. “I’ll go after her.”

As if he’d let Jackson anywhere near her after what had happened. He’d always thought of his partner as hard and unyielding, but he’d never thought of him as underhanded. “She’s under my protection,” he said, thumping his chest and ignoring his gran’s sharp intake of breath.

“She’s under ‘our’ protection, you mean,” Jackson said. He squinted at the horizon. “We’re wasting time. I’m going to pack what we need. You get Dravin and someone else to take our patrol. I’ll meet you by the north path in ten minutes. If you’re not there, I’m leaving without you.”

Marcus watched him go, wanting to argue, but knowing it would be pointless. Besides, if they ran into trouble, having a partner at his back, even an asshole one like Jackson, would be safer than being alone. Now he just had to find Dravin. 

“Marcus,” his gran said in a soft voice, and he waited, shoulders tense. Gran using her soft voice was never a good sign.

“She’s human, Marcus. She seems like a nice girl, and I can understand the attraction. But there’s a reason we have the laws we do. Nothing good can come of it.”

Maybe she was right, but maybe she wasn’t. Either way, he needed to know.

“S
he’s off the trail,” Jackson said, sniffing the air. “Why would she have turned east here?”

“Because it would have looked like a straighter route on the map,” Marcus said. They were only a few miles from Wolf’s Run, and so far, Kirra’s path had been easy to follow. Scuff marks in the dirt and broken twigs told him she’d been more concerned with speed than stealth. He had no doubt they would catch up with her soon. What would happen after that was more of a question. It was time to set some boundaries. Some rules.

“Look, Jackson, I think we need to call a truce.”

Jackson knocked aside a branch without speaking, sending it flying back in Marcus’s face.

He tried again. “I’m not happy about this either. Our first priority is finding Kirra, of course, and then finding out why she’s so anxious to talk to the council. But after that...”

“After that what?” Jackson rounded on him, crossing his arms, legs braced.

There was no use in being subtle. Jackson was oblivious to subtle. “I want her,” Marcus said boldly. “I want her, and I don’t want you to try to take advantage of her again.”

Springing forward, Jackson put his hand around Marcus’s throat and slammed him against the nearest tree. The impact rattled his teeth. “I wasn’t taking advantage of her. And this is all your fault.” He tightened his grip. “If we’d made her tell us why they were after her or why she needed to see the alpha, she never would have gone off on her own.”

Marcus stomped on Jackson’s instep and threw his head forward, smashing his forehead against Jackson’s chin.

Jackson’s grip loosened, and he backed off, cradling his jaw.

They stared at each other, breath heaving, balanced on the balls of their feet.

“Why do you want her anyway?” Marcus asked. “She’s a human.”

“I know. I don’t care.”

Jackson’s answer was a tortured whisper, and Marcus sagged back against the tree. “She calls to you, too, doesn’t she? Ever since I pulled her out of the river and caught her scent, I haven’t been able to get it out of my system. I’ve never felt this way—never been drawn to anyone like this before, shifter or human.”

“It’s like she’s dug her way in”—Jackson rubbed his bare chest—“and I can’t get her out. I don’t want her there. I don’t want to feel this way about anyone, let alone a human. How do we get rid of it?”

The confusion on Jackson’s face reflected the lightness in Marcus’s head and the heaviness in his stomach. He felt giddy and all at once. “I’m not sure,” he said slowly. “Gran said nothing good could come of it—”

“And she’s right. Kirra’s human. It’s forbidden.”

“We’re not banned from having a relationship with humans. Only from a true mating.”

“So you think I should just have sex with her? That it would get her out of my system?” Jackson said, eyebrows furrowing.

“That’s not... I mean... No. No.”

“Why not? You just said—”

“I said I want to have a relationship with her, not that you should! I want you to back off!” How had the conversation gone from bad to worse so rapidly?

Jackson was rubbing the back of his neck, ignoring him. “It might work,” he said. “Thank you for the suggestion.” Sniffing the air again, he picked up on Kirra’s trail and took off.

A strange grating sound rang in Marcus’s ears, and he realized he was grinding his teeth so hard they were in danger of cracking. He kicked at a rotten log, sending chunks of wood and moss flying, then chased after Jackson.

***

H
er scent grew sharper, fresher, with each passing minute. They were right behind her. Without speaking, they picked up their pace, closing the gap. 

Marcus cupped his hands around his mouth, about to call her name, when Jackson skidded to a halt and held up a hand, taking a deep breath. His head snapped to the right, and he followed whatever he’d scented, fishing around in the thick underbrush. Two minutes later, he reappeared, a familiar looking pack in his hands and a grim look on his face.

“That’s Kirra’s,” Marcus said. Cold fingers danced down his spine. “She never would have left it behind.”

“No, she wouldn’t have.” Jackson looped an arm through one of its straps and set off again, determination in his stride. Determination and maybe a hint of fear. That worried Marcus more than anything else. He’d never seen Jackson worried about anything. Ever. 

Cursing and grunting came from ahead and to the left, and a feminine scream rent the air, cutting off abruptly. Ice spiked through his veins.

“Kirra,” Jackson said grimly, adjusting course and tearing through the underbrush.

Marcus stayed on his heels. The trees were thinning, and in a few more seconds, they’d be out of the woods and exposed. He reached out and grabbed Jackson’s shoulder to pull him to a halt.

Jackson snarled, lips drawn back to expose lengthening canines. His hands were already shifting into paws tipped with wicked claws, and his eyes were wild. He was losing control of his Wolf.

“I smell Cats,” Marcus said. “Two of them. If they’ve got her, we need to be smart about this. Going in without a plan might get her hurt... or worse.” The scream, full of panic and fury, still echoed in his head, and he wanted nothing more than to let his Wolf take over and join Jackson in defending what was his. His rational side knew that wasn’t the best plan, however. 

“Lash and Monroe,” Jackson said, tearing off his sweatpants and boots. 

Marcus inhaled and sorted out the incoming information. He’d recognized Lash’s scent, but Monroe’s was new to him. “Bobcat?” he asked.

“Cheetah.”

Ah. Fast, but not a heavy hitter. They could work with that. And if they had Kirra, they were likely in their human forms, so even better.

***

T
he sight that greeted Marcus as he edged out of the woods made his blood boil. Lash had an arm hooked around Kirra’s chest and was carting her up a short, steep hill. From the way her head dangled and her feet dragged across the ground, it was clear she was unconscious. A lanky man—Monroe, he guessed—trailed after them, twitching his head from side to side with every step. At least one of them knew they were where they didn’t belong.

“Let her go, Lash,” Marcus yelled. Jackson had faded into the woods to his right, and Marcus knew his job was to distract the Cats and keep their attention on him long enough to give Jackson time to work his way behind them. As long as the wind didn’t change direction and bring his scent to the Cats, Jackson would have the element of surprise.

Monroe whipped around, crouching close to the ground. In comparison, Lash barely reacted. He adjusted his grip on Kirra, placing an arm around her neck and bracing her in front of him while he turned. Her eyes fluttered open and she moaned, raising one hand to her forehead.