Shifters of Grrr 1 (28 page)

"No, Calan. I'm
late."
She put one hand over her stomach, still in shock from the results earlier. She had done it three times though, just to make sure, and the results were the same every time.

"As in, late-late?"
 

"Yes."

"Are you telling me I'm going to be a dad?"

She couldn't tell from the tone of his voice just what he was feeling. His face had a mixed look of fear, excitement, nervousness and something else. It took her awhile to figure out what it was, until she realized he looked like a squirrel who had just found a bank vault full of nuts.
 

"Don't look at me like that!" She giggled, pushing out of her chair as he stood up, looking as pleased as could be with himself.

"Are you really pregnant?"

She nodded, tears of joy forming in her eyes at his reaction. Harley had been so scared about telling him. They had wanted to raise some cubs, but she wasn't sure if he was ready to do so just yet. Apparently she was wrong, if the smug look of a job well done on his face was anything to go by.

He leaned down to kiss her, confirming with action and the emotion contained within their bond, that everything was going to be just fine.

The End

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CHAPTER

1

He’d pick the bastards off one by one. Pursuers scrambled at least a half mile behind him- this wasn’t the city they’d left behind trailing Jelal, a country boy. The assassins may have had the upper hand on their turf in Austin, but the woods of his tiny southern hometown were his expertise.

Though assassin was a fancy term for lower-level mob thugs. Jelal ran through the brush, footsteps quiet and fleet though he was out of running practice. Five years after college football ended, he kept to his daily training regime- pride refused to allow his body to soften. He’d abandoned his car on a side road and plunged into the forest in the general direction of a rundown cabin he recalled from his youth. It would provide cover and windows for him to shoot from.

Cause, yeah, they’d started it by shattering his window shield while aiming for his head. Who’d known working for a non-profit straight out of grad school would be so dangerous?
 

He reached the cabin, circling it once to check for disturbance then kicked the door open. The old couch his boys had brought in during their senior year was still there- filthy, but he wasn’t planning to camp out. Years of neglect coated the place with a carpet of dust and evidence of critters. Even old cigarette butts lingered. Jelal didn’t have time to shake his head, pushing the couch in front of the door for added protection, crouching in front of a window after prying it open an inch. He hoped he didn’t get himself killed. Grandma would be pissed.

***

Now, that was interesting. Boone sat back on his haunches, watching as two men with humorless faces approached the cabin, eyes scanning the woods. He’d watched Jelal- as if he could ever forget his high school crush- leading the two on a merry chase. Not so merry from the cold, focused gleam in Jelal’s dark eyes. He moved like a predator pretending to be prey; his foe would realize its mistake too late. Boone had followed the hunt since Jelal’s noisy crashing through his territory over two miles ago alerted a sentry, who then contacted Boone. The pack couldn’t help but know Jelal was Boone’s long last mate- too bad Jelal never realized it.

“Gotta be in here,” one man said, drawing a gun.

Boone surged to his feet, fangs exposed, a growl rumbling in his chest.

“You hear that?”

“No. Come on.”

A shot cracked, whizzing past the head of the speaker. The man cursed, and Boone slunk backwards, shaking bits of shattered tree bark out of his fur. This just wouldn’t do. Another shot rang out, and the two ran for cover before returning fire. Neither was hit; Jelal wasn’t that great a shot. He would need help. Boone took off, circling the cabin to the back entrance. He hoped his mate didn’t shoot when he saw a big, naked man approach.

***

Jelal jerked, the... polite... tap on the back door grabbing his attention. Glass shattered over him, a bullet lodging into the wall. What the fuck? He’d seen the two thugs slink back towards the tree line so they could shoot from a distance. A fucking shootout. Damnit, who was knocking?

“Jelal?”

His eyes narrowed as he approached the back, crouching to avoid getting himself shot. Kneeling at the bottom of the door and to the side, he figured he recalled enough spy movies to guess that a shooter would aim at the height of a standing man’s head. Right? But what the hell did he know? He was a football player turned non-profit inner city coach. Not a damn... whatever. Fugitive. Detective. Whistleblower. Whatever it made him that he’d taken the accountant’s concerns about laundering to the Program Director, Kurt. If he had to do it all over... yeah. Would just go to the police.

“I can hear you breathing, Jelal. It’s Boone. Boone Singleton. We were in high school together?”

His life was unreal. Boone Singleton? Was this a joke? He remembered the kid- shy and lean but with a mean look in his eyes when cornered. Also the only son of the single shifter family in town. Town laws and his Dad’s orders forbade him from shifting to defend himself against bullies- so he’d wound up on the losing end of more than one fight before Jelal showed him how to use fists instead of claws and teeth. They’d been... not quite best friends, but buddies, before Jelal got his scholarship and went off to university. Shoving thoughts of Boone to the back of his mind had been became necessary because leaving him behind had become, unexpectedly, more difficult than anticipated.

Still- Jelal said nothing. He heard a sigh.

“I followed the men shooting at you.” Another shot thudded into the wall through broken out glass. Boone waited another beat. “Would you like help?” he asked as if he were offering Jelal a glass of lemonade.
 

Jelal cursed. If Boone was trying to kill him- well, the man didn’t need a gun. He reached up, unlatching the door.

“Get in, hurry up.”

It took Jelal a second- being distracted and all- but he realized Boone was naked. Not like he hadn’t seen another man’s body before, up close and personal, but this was different.

Boone glanced in the living room before turning blue eyes back to Jelal. He smiled, subtle humor in the thin creases edging his eyes. Jelal supposed, with a quick comprehensive glance, that Boone spent time roaming around in the buff. His smooth skin glowed an even golden tan all the way down.

“Were you, uh, just coming out of-” Jelal waved a hand “-you know. Wolf form.”

“Yeah. I’d like to catch up, but the bullets and everything.”

Boone’s head snapped to the side, tilting as if he were listening.
 

“They’ve stopped shooting. I think they’re circling around back.” Humor evaporated expression hardening. “Stay in here, I’m going to go run them off.”

“What the hell?” Jelal liked no one fighting his battles for him. Or telling him to sit and stay.

Boone smiled, though it didn’t change the grim expression in his eyes. “This is
my
territory, Jal. I’ll defend it. You stay in the cabin. I’ll be back.”

Before Jelal could argue more, Boone’s body twisted, fur sprouting along his arms and legs, face warping into a muzzle. Jelal stumbled back, startled but not afraid. He’d seen it before- it’d just been a while. It took a minute, the wolf giving Jelal one last measuring look and a warning snap of teeth before he took off out the door.

***

Boone considered calling one of his sentries, but discarded the idea. With care he could scare away two men, even with guns. He followed the foreign scents, slinking forward on his belly when he was close. They crouched in the brush, whispering. Whether to storm the cabin or wait Jelal out. Boone growled. Whatever their strategy, it was clear they intended Jelal die.

“Man, I heard it again! Growling.”

“And what are you going to do about it?” the other snapped. “We have a job. Focus.”

Boone attacked, leaping forward onto the first man, snatching his gun and crushing his wrist, opening the main artery. He would bleed out before he could find help. The man screamed in pain, his companion’s arm swinging to aim at Boone. The wolf’s ears flattened to his head. They didn’t seem very... professional, for all their tough talk.
 

Boone disappeared behind the cover of trees and circled back around, avoiding the wild firing. The noise must have alerted Jelal because a shot came from inside the cabin. Boone snapped in frustration. He didn’t want to get caught in friendly fire. Jumping in front of the assassin, Boone made eye contact and then fled, leading the human away from his mate. When they were deeper in the woods, the man cursing and stomping around with less grace than a puppy, Boone took him out with another leap from cover, waiting until the man just passed where the wolf waited. It was too easy- Boone’s tail drooped, lips lowering over his fangs in disappointment. Jelal could have handled it- eventually.

Another wolf emerged from the woods, approaching Boone. He shifted back into human form so they could speak.

“Who are they?” Lora asked. A brown skinned, curly haired female with ambition, she wanted to rise high in the pack order and could always be counted on to back Boone. Except in one circumstance.

“I don’t know. I’ll speak with Jelal. Call the crew to come get the bodies. I don’t want any evidence next time a hunter comes through.”

“He brings trouble to our territory,” she growled. “You should let me take care of him- then the trouble will leave.”

Boone snarled. “No one will lay a hand on him. He is my mate.”

“Who left you. And doesn’t know he’s your mate, so what does that matter?”

Boone took a step towards her, shoulders swelling, eyes narrowing in anger. “Are you challenging me?”

Her eyes lowered to the ground but Boone didn’t make the mistake of thinking it was anything other than a show of submission.

“No. You could choose any person in the pack to take for your mate. Male or female.” She glanced up, voice softening. “You could choose me. I’m strong and loyal, and no one would challenge you with me guarding your back.”