Scent Of A Mate: League Of Gallize Shifters Page 6

  He waited to see if that was all the talking. He knew so little about this world and how to deal with people. To simply talk with her was a gift.

  She changed the subject. “Remember the Black River pack wolves who were hunting you after you escaped the Cadells?” At his nod, she continued. “Please work with the Guardian and his shifters to learn all you can. You’ll eventually meet that wolf pack again. If they capture you, they’ll use you in their lab experiments.”

  She worried about him being safe?

  The warm place in his chest returned. He liked that, but brushed off her worry. “Will not capture me.”

  She smiled at him. “If your ego expands in here, you’ll destroy my truck.”

  “I do not hurt truck.”

  “Never mind.” She sighed and added, “You better hope you never get captured. The Black River pack breeds shifters with premium genetics to create their soldiers and slaves. They know what a Gallize is and that makes you a prime candidate.”

  He muttered, “Am not Gallize.”

  “That’s going to be hard to prove to the Guardian and those guys following us.” She stared straight ahead, driving in silence for a bit until she spoke so softly he wouldn’t have heard without his new hearing. “Do you have to fight everyone?”

  Yes, but not her.

  He had to fight to gain freedom, but he would not ever harm her. It hurt to think about how he was going to leave as soon as the women were saved. Scarlett would not be happy, especially when the Guardian and his shifters came hunting him.

  He would have to be sure no one could fault Scarlett when he escaped, but that meant he would not get to say goodbye.

  There would be no one like Scarlett when he disappeared.

  Chapter 6

  Maneuvering through traffic became easier the farther north from Spartanburg Scarlett drove.

  Evidently Gan was no happier with the Gallize than he had been that first day he met his tiger. After helping hundreds of female shifters in trouble, she knew that look of despair. She just never expected to see it in the face of a male shifter, much less one as powerful as a Gallize.

  Seeing him unhappy struck a painful chord inside her.

  She should stop worrying about him, get the females to safety, and then put distance between her and Gan.

  Lots and lots of distance.

  No matter how much she wanted to dismiss him as a jerk, he had a way of being sweet when she talked to him one on one. He made her want things she had set aside long ago to keep everyone in her world safe. She couldn’t risk getting involved with anyone, especially a tiger shifter.

  She snuck a look at him leaning against the door in nothing more than a T-shirt and jeans.

  Women looked at Gan and probably thought about sex.

  Definitely thought about sex.

  But she kept seeing something new as she peeled back layers on him. The man hidden away for all these years slowly appeared. She wished they were sitting on a cliff looking out over miles of canyons and talking about ... everything.

  Watching him open up and hearing the sincerity in his voice as well as despair, made her want to help him any way she could.

  A purr rumbled. Her cougar weighed in. Yes, help tiger. Tiger help us.

  No, no, no, Scarlett argued silently, clamping down on her wayward thoughts.

  You need man, Chica answered her.

  Scarlett replied, I wasn’t asking you.

  Who do you ask then?

  Never mind. Please be quiet, Chica.

  Her cat grumbled, but settled down.

  She kept trying to ignore what Chica said, because Scarlett had gone a long time without a man. She’d been around plenty of attractive and sexy men during that time and had never dreamed of sex with any of them.

  Why Gan?

  While he stared out the passenger window, Scarlett took the opportunity to sneak a better look. No one could blame her for wanting to enjoy eye candy. He wore a snug camo T-shirt, meant to blend into the terrain. That was the only thing the shirt hid. Thin material stretched over a carved-up chest, thick arms, and shoulders a mile wide.

  Being a shifter, she liked a solid man.

  She missed the long feral hair, but the short black locks didn’t look any more domesticated. That and his beard warned a heathen had resided in that body since long before he gained his tiger and he had no intentions of changing.

  He had the kind of body that made a woman want to live dangerously.

  Nope. She’d stayed alive and kept her little sister safe a long time by sticking to her plan. She couldn’t screw up now, but she could teach Gan shifter survival tips on this mission.

  The Guardian should have taught him how to use his senses by now.

  What did they expect? That he could just go out in public without any idea when he encountered a threat?

  Could he keep his tiger from breaking out and engaging?

  “Gan?”

  He turned to her. “Yes.”

  “This is important. It has to do with the mission. These women have been through a difficult time. I can’t guarantee one or more won’t change the minute they’re free. They could turn aggressive, especially around male shifters if they feel threatened, even unintentionally. If I didn’t have control of my cougar, I would be at the mercy of predators. You can tell me if you have trouble managing your animal.”

  “Tiger is fine.” Now he sounded grumpy.

  No help there.

  Female shifters were so much easier than boneheaded men. Scarlett hit the palm of her hand on the steering wheel.

  He flinched. “What is wrong?”

  “You.”

  “I did nothing.”

  “You claim you have control of your tiger.” She hadn’t meant to sound frustrated, but he shouldn’t be at anyone’s mercy. Who would keep Gan safe if he met a shifter that keyed in on his control issues and used that against him?

  “I have control.” But this time he sounded less confident, wary even, as if he realized she’d figured out something.

  “Really, Gan? Remember when you flinched during our meeting? All of us picked up on the effort you were putting out to keep your animal locked down. That is not control. That’s flying by the seat of your pants. Around shifters, that will get you killed and maybe even others depending on you.”

  Gan turned away, ignoring her, but she caught anger pouring off him.

  She hadn’t said that to make him angry, but to wake him up to the fact that he now lived in a more dangerous world than ever. The predators he would encounter had spent years sharpening their senses. Those shifters would catch the scent of vulnerable prey.

  He might shift into a monstrous Siberian tiger, but Black River wolves fighting as a pack would take him down.

  His life could end in a matter of seconds, no matter how much power he possessed.

  The idea of Gan dying under the claws of vicious shifters infuriated her. She clenched the steering wheel until pressure forced the sound of a crack.

  Dammit. Crushing the steering wheel that took her six months of digging through junkyards to find would cap this freaking day.

  “I smell anger,” he announced, sounding pleased with himself.

  She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. She never allowed her emotions to run free, not around any male shifter.

  Wait. He’d admitted smelling her anger. To cover having exposed her emotions, she claimed, “Good. I would have been disappointed if you hadn’t.”

  “You do that on purpose?” This time he laughed, taking any accusation out of his words.

  “Yes, I did.” She’d own her claim and dare him to prove otherwise.

  “Okay. I pass test. That is good.”

  She burst out laughing. “You think that qualifies you to understand scents?”

  “You have nice laugh.”

  Four words shouldn’t throw her off track.

  Simple words anyone could have said, but when he spoke, her body listened. No one had co
mplimented her in so long she forgot what it sounded like. Men in bars would talk trash, telling her how hot she was, but they wanted in her pants.

  They didn’t mean a word they said.

  She had sharp senses when it came to sniffing out a lie or hearing the truth.

  Gan’s words had been genuine.

  She tried to brush it off, pretend she hadn’t been touched, but he’d made her feel good with the simplest of words.

  He dragged in a deep breath.

  She couldn’t ignore it from the sound he made to the way his chest expanded.

  “I like your smell, too.” His voice had a rough quality that made her think of cool sheets on a dark night, tangled up skin to skin.

  Shit. She clamped down on that thought before he ...

  “Uhm. I know that scent.” He sounded very proud of himself this time. “Smells good like soft woman.”

  Where was a tart comeback? She waited. Got nothing, maybe because deep down she liked what he’d said.

  What kind of mess had she gotten herself into? She could not carry out this mission with him thinking he turned her on.

  Even if he had.

  In a moment of panic, she bluffed, “That makes no sense.”

  That cocky bastard grinned.

  Failed bluff, especially with her rubbing her legs together like a cricket.

  Still two miles out from the turnoff, she had nowhere to hide her purely feminine reaction to him. It wouldn’t dissipate as quickly as it had steamed to the surface.

  That meant she had to kill this here and now.

  She gave him a quick double take, then chuckled as if she had a private joke. “Oh, wait. I know what you’re thinking. Sorry, Gan. Nice try, but you’re wrong. Don’t make that mistake around another female or you’ll embarrass yourself.”

  Anger filled the cab. “I hate being shifter. Make no sense.”

  She did a mental fist pump at solving her problem until the silence built enough she forced herself to glance at him.

  The self-loathing in his face punched her in the solar plexus. He’d been listening to her.

  What happened to helping him?

  Fuck. Guilt slapped her for lying to him.

  How was he ever supposed to understand his senses if he got bad feedback?

  He would never trust his nose if she didn’t come clean with him. How did she get herself into this situation?

  Growling, she said, “Okay, dammit. You did have that scent correct, but don’t make more of it than a physical reaction. I’m only telling you to help you figure out your nose. Also, you should have realized I just lied to you a minute ago.”

  Could she be any more irritated?

  Her cougar slapped her insides and snarled, You lie. You bad.

  Now she was thoroughly pissed.

  Where was a rewind button for today?

  She put on her blinker and pulled off the interstate, then took a right turn on a country road surrounded by woods on both sides.

  Keeping her eyes on the road where they should have been this whole time, she muttered to herself, “Where’s that red ribbon tied on a branch?”

  “There.”

  Gan spoke that word at the same moment she saw the marker for the turn, but she felt compelled to say, “Thanks.”

  She drove pass the small scrap of material waving gently in the wind to where she found an old pine tree with the top half burned. Probably a lightning strike.

  She slowed as a logging truck approached, waited for it to pass, then eased her truck onto the shoulder.

  Turning left, she dropped into a short ditch then back up the other side, and motored slowly into the woods, scanning constantly. Her intel indicated she’d find a path once she got out of sight of the highway.

  She did.

  That resource had a bonus coming from her. This source had lived in the area since childhood and was well known. She didn’t tap him often because he had too many clients. She preferred contacts with smaller lists, but time hadn’t allowed her a wide selection of resources.

  She’d been so busy managing the truck over the terrain that she’d forgotten about Gan for a moment.

  Why was he quiet?

  Sliding her gaze sideways, she caught him staring her down with a curious look. “What?”

  “You confuse me.”

  “That won’t be a problem for you after today,” she said with certainty.

  “Why?”

  “This is the only time we’re working together. It clears your debt to me, even though I had not planned to call that marker in, just so you know. Everyone leaves happy.”

  Her cougar said, You happy? Big lie.

  Chica’s irritating comment pulled her back to the moment where she had a simple goal. One that had nothing to do with getting naked with an arrogant tiger shifter.

  Easing into a lower gear, she pushed her truck to climb a rough hill that should allow both vehicles to disappear from highway view once they cleared the downhill side.

  “How many women?” Gan asked, giving her a start with the change of topic.

  “Six I know of, but there could be more.”

  “What is trafficker?”

  She spared a quick glance to be sure he was not being obtuse. No. He clearly didn’t know what that meant. “It’s a group of people who kidnap or buy innocent shifters, or humans, to put into sex rings, slavery, and involuntary lab testing.”

  “These women. How old?”

  “There’s no limit to the age with shifters, but most are between teenagers to mid-thirties. The traffickers like to get young ones who are easier to handle.” She wrenched the wheel to dodge the base of a tree that had fallen. The movement dropped her side down sharply and sent Gan sliding over into her.

  She bunched her muscles, expecting to be slammed by all that body, but Gan shoved a hand behind her that stopped his forward motion.

  As if that fixed anything?

  She felt him right next to her. Smelled his warm skin. Her heart thudded at the closeness. Too close. Heat rushed through parts she’d kept locked down from any man for a long time. Every inhale acted like a lock pick, opening her up.

  What was that crazy man doing to her?

  He inhaled deeply then exhaled slowly.

  Her cougar vibrated with a low rumbling.

  Scarlett couldn’t tell what that meant, which was odd. She always knew what her cat had in mind.

  When the road leveled out, she turned her face to find Gan’s crystal blue eyes inches away. She’d expected him to be smiling, ready to make a verbal jab.

  But his eyes were wide as if she’d surprised him somehow. Irritated to be knocked off balance, she said, “Get on your side.”

  “Comfortable here.”

  “I’m not. You’re cramping my space.” This man had no sense of personal space. Ever.

  “What is cramping space?”

  Wrangling the wheel to stay on what little path they had, she shot back, “I’m not your urban dictionary. I’ll use simple words. Move!”

  Chuckling, he slid back to his side.

  He thought that was funny?

  No more helping the clueless tiger. He could suck wind.

  Finally, she found enough open space for parking both vehicles. With the engine off, she jumped out and reached behind the seat for a tactical vest loaded with ammo. Titanium loads might not kill a shifter, but it would stop one long enough for her to contain him.

  She popped in her earplugs.

  Even with earplugs, she could hear conversation among the team, or Gan getting out of the truck on the other side and closing the passenger door.

  She’d need her head enclosed with concrete to block him out.

  Without earplugs and the suppressor on her custom 9mm CZ-75 B, the sound of this weapon going off would rupture a shifter’s eardrums if they stood too close.

  She loaded the magazine, chambered a round, and shoved the weapon into the holster on her vest. The vest seams closed with Velcro, allowing her to r
ip it off in seconds to shift if need be.

  The only way releasing her cougar would happen was if this operation hit full FUBAR level.

  Vic walked up to her wearing a similar tactical vest, carrying another one and with two comm sets in his hands. “With four of us, we should be able to capture some, if not all, of the kidnappers. We could definitely use the intel, especially if this is connected to the Black River pack.”

  “The kidnappers I ran into early this morning were Pagan Nomads. They sell to the Black River pack, but I don’t know if this is a meet point for the two groups or someone else.”

  “Pagan Nomads?” Vic nodded. “They’re hard to find.”

  Scarlett informed him, “I bump into them more often than I like. I’ve taken their bounties six times this year.”

  Sure, that sounded like she bragged, but it helped to remind these Gallize that she had street cred.

  “No shit?” Vic asked.

  She nodded. “I was surprised to see them in the Great Smoky Mountains, which concerns me that they’re expanding their attack zones.” Scarlett took the comm set Vic offered. She clipped the control box on her vest and put her headset in place. She added, “I’m packing titanium loads.”

  “I am, too. Adrian is carrying tranq loads.” Gan had made it around the truck and stood with his arms crossed, looking as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  Vic handed him a vest and a comm set. “Put the earplugs in first, then the headset. These are tuned to shifter hearing so they won’t blow out our eardrums. All you have to do once we activate the sets is speak softly.” He finished explaining how to set up the gear.

  Gan gave a long look at the vest and other apparatus, then shrugged. He put on the vest, stuck the control box for the headset in a pocket, which was wrong, but Scarlett just let it go.

  Once he had his headset in place, she expected him to pipe up with an opinion.

  When he didn’t, she returned to discussing the operation with Vic. “I’m all for taking kidnappers alive as long as the captives are kept safe first and foremost. If any of these shifters are on Jugo Loco or the equivalent of that nasty substance, I won’t allow them to kill captives to prevent the women from running their mouths once they’re free.”