Series: Shifter Ops Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
“Allison likes Laurie,” Fiona announces. “I approve.”
“I’ll alert the media.”
“Hey, I don’t approve of many males. But your buddy smells all right. And if he hurts her, I’ll use him to stuff a mattress.”
“Fair enough.” I find a fallen log and brush the thin layer of snow off to settle on it. Fiona’s hovering close, and my animal is ultra aware of her, wondering when to pounce. He’d lick the chip scent right off her if I’d let him.
I tighten my grip on his leash and tip my head back to drink in the night air.
After a moment, Fiona drops down beside me. I feel the heat of her body through my clothes. It warms my right side and leaves my left side cold.
“Lots of stars tonight,” I say.
“Less light pollution out here. It’s nice.”
Goosebumps run up my side. I could scoot a little close and put my arm around her shoulders. Let her lean on me. Bury my nose in her shining black hair, inhale her scent from the source.
Instead, I look up for the moon. “Is that a treehouse up there?”
Fiona surges to her feet. “It is!”
We both crane our necks to gaze up. You’d miss it if you weren’t looking because it blends in so well. Nestled between three towering ponderosa pine trees is a tiny treehouse.
“How do you think you get to it?” Fiona walks to the base of one of the trees. There’s no ladder.
I shrug. “I dunno. Bears climb trees. Do ya think… just scale the trunk?”
“Over here!” She beckons me to one of the other supporting trunks. “Ladder rungs nailed right in.”
She’s right. Small pegs emerge on alternating sides straight up to the floor of the treehouse, where a hole gapes to crawl through.
We climb up and survey the tiny interior. An eight by six foot neatly-constructed wood plank floor is covered by an oval-shaped wool rug. While it’s open to the air on the side that looks down the mountain, a sturdy roof with a long overhang has kept snow from entering, and the rug is warm and dry.
Fiona settles onto it, leaning her back against the wall to take in the view. I sit beside her.
“You guys still living in Tucson?” she asks.
“Yeah.” For a while we were living in a series of run-down trailers, relying on running the odds at shifter fight club to pay the rent. Our current place is owned by the Vampire King. His way of keeping us close, like a retainer.
I don’t tell her any of this.
She takes a breath to say something else, but something stirs in the forest a few yards away from us.
“Do ya hear that?”
Fiona’s eyes flash white then bright red. “What?”
“Over there,” I whisper, pointing. We hold our breath, staring down into the dark forest. Something’s moving in there. Something big.
I know the second Fiona sees it because she grabs my arm. Her touch is like a jolt of electricity down my side. My dick perks up, and I grit my teeth. Now is not the time to jump her. Even though she’s leaning in front of me, that mouth-watering scent washing over me.
“What is it?” she hisses.
I can’t tell. It looks like a giant wraith between the trees. I inhale, but the werebear musk is so strong, I can’t smell anything else.
The ghostly shape moves closer. It’s massive but makes no sound.
My wolfhound raises his head. He's not frightened at all, just curious.
Fiona raises her shotgun, takes aim.
“Wait, lass.” I catch her arm. “Don’t shoot.”
“Why not?” she whispers harshly, but to her credit, she takes her finger off the trigger. The little act of trust is like a shot of whiskey, warming me all the way through.
“Just wait.”
The trees shake, and the giant emerges below us, rising to hind feet to look up at us.
“Jay-sus.”
It’s a massive white bear with a red Santa hat perched on its huge head.
“A polar bear,” Fiona whispers.
The bear nods and shuffles forward. It’s holding something in its front paws. It sets it down and shuffles away, melting into the forest like it never existed. Leaving us to crouch and sniff at the warm bundle it left at our stoop. A fragrant baked good is wrapped in a dishtowel, smelling of orange peel and dried fruit…
“Fruit cake?”
Laurie
Darkness has fallen, and the only light and sound is the glow and crackle of the dying fire. It’s toasty warm and smells like spiced cider.
Parker pulled the couch closer to the fire and is leaning back with his legs outstretched and his hat tilted over his face. He typically sleeps sitting up anyway. It can’t be comfortable, but he says it helps with the nightmares. In order to feel safe enough to fall asleep, his animal has to be ready to run.
I understand the urge. It’s hard for me to sleep most nights, too. My owl is naturally nocturnal, of course, but he gets tired in the “wee” hours, as Declan calls them, the hours between one and five am, and that’s when my nightmares tend to come.