“And?” She tried to remain casual even as fear clenched her belly.
“And Reid ordered everyone to remain close to town and in their two-legged shape to avoid mishaps.”
“No shifting. Got it.”
“This isn’t a joke, bella. You need to come back. Temporarily at least,” he quickly added.
“This is my home. I’m safe here. Or are you now going to claim those poachers shoot people on sight?”
His lips flattened, no sign of the jovial Mateo in his face. “These aren’t your garden-variety type. They hunt shifters.”
That knot in her stomach got even tighter. “They’ll never know what I am.”
“Why are you arguing? I can smell your fear. You know staying here is wrong.”
She did and bowed her head. Sighed. “I hate that motel. The rooms are like a prison.”
“Get the room adjoining mine and we’ll leave the door open, so it feels more like a sprawling bungalow.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Not helping.”
“What if I promise that I will turn this can of peaches into an upside-down cake that will make your toes curl?”
Eyeing his mouth, she wanted to ask for a different kind of treat. He caught her staring and winked. She blushed as she glanced away. “I’ll go back to town with you, but not without my things. I’ll pack while you fetch the trailer.”
“That will take too long. We can strap a bag to the back.”
She shook her head. “That will only be enough for a few days, and I get the feeling you’re taking a week or more.” She could see Mateo every day.
“Come with me for the ride.”
“Don’t be silly. I need to gather the things I want. As it is, you should bring some of the canned stuff back with you this trip so it doesn’t freeze once the woodstove goes out.”
She helped him bring a few cases to strap to the rack on the back of the sled. He gave her a hard stare before saying, “I’ll be back within the hour with a trailer. Be ready.”
She nodded and listened as the motor faded then got to work, filling a duffel with her clothes and personal effects. Then she packed a box with some books. Another stack was of the food that wouldn’t survive freezing.
During that time, the sky darkened as clouds rolled in on strong, gusty winds. Fat snowflakes began to fall as she finished closing up the cottage, shuttering the interior window covers, making her bed. Then she sat and waited. Fell asleep, which might be why she never heard Mateo returning, only the hard knock on the door.
Half awake, she flew to the portal and opened it, momentarily blinded by the snow that swept in. It clung to her lashes, and she blinked.
Then gaped at the balaclava-covered face. Utterly surprised by the stranger’s appearance, she didn’t notice the gun until it was too late.
Chapter 9
The snow began not long after Mateo got the sledge hitched to the snowmobile. He’d wasted a good forty-five minutes waiting for it rather than take the much smaller pod. The sledge had high walls and a tarp stretched over the top that would protect her things. He wasted another few minutes loading a few emergency supplies, not liking the look of the sky.
Boris showed up just as he finished filling the gas tank. “Weather’s about to get rough. You might want to wait it out.”
“Rilee’s alone out there.”
“Tucked tight in her cabin. She’ll be fine. You on the other hand…” The up-and-down glance let Mateo clearly understand what Boris thought of the city slicker.
The moose man wasn’t entirely wrong. Mateo hadn’t done much work in the deep north in winter. Add in a storm and things could get downright treacherous. However, a nagging unease wouldn’t let him sit safe in his motel waiting out the vicious wind.
“I need to go. I’ve got supplies in the sled just in case.” Rations, sleeping bag, and, in his pocket, fruit cake, courtesy of his mother.
Boris gave him a hard stare then clapped him on the back. “If you get turned around, dig yourself a burrow and hunker until the worst of it passes.”
He wouldn’t be doing shit until he found Rilee.
The visibility didn’t prove the greatest, the storm and the short window of daylight making it dark outside, even gloomier in the forest. The beam of his headlight was the only thing illuminating his path, speckled with falling snow. The rapidly multiplying flakes thickened until he could see nothing, meaning he had to slow down lest he slam headlong into a tree. He’d probably survive, but it would hurt like a bitch.
The unease that started in town only increased as he realized he no longer knew if he was heading in the right direction. Slowing his sled, he took a moment to shove up his sleeve and poke at his watch. Built-in GPS would show him his location on a map. If the satellite could read the signal.
From behind his goggles, he glared upwards at the storm-heavy sky. He couldn’t tell north from south. Nor was there any sign of a path. He’d been travelling more than twenty minutes at this point. Had he gone right past her place? Fuck, for all he knew, it was within spitting distance. He’d begun to wonder if he’d have to take Boris’s advice and burrow under a heap of snow when he heard it even over the hum of his engine.
A sharp crack.
A gunshot!
At that point, all reason left him. He flipped off the machine and jumped to the ground. It only took two steps for him to realize the snow would slow him.
He shed his clothes and quickly stuffed them under the tarp for the sledge. He was shivering, and his balls turtled by the time he shifted.
The pain of reshaping had him arching, but not crying out, because he’d done this so many times. He knew what came after the agony. Euphoria.
While Mateo enjoyed the pleasures of two legs and flesh, there was something about being his tiger that brought things down to a simpler level.
Primitive, and yet all the more enjoyable for it. The snow no longer proved a deterrent, his wide paws made for this kind of weather. The Amur tigers weren’t just known for being the biggest felines; they had manes more useful and warm than a lion’s, cuffs of fur around their legs, and an ability to see in the dark that made them excellent hunters.
Who needed a GPS when instinct never steered him wrong?
While he didn’t hear a second gunshot, engine noise did rumble in the distance. He made haste and only slowed as he spotted lights amidst the falling snow and branches. Time to get higher.
He climbed a tree and stretched out along a thick branch and inched until he could glimpse Rilee’s hut. The front door gaped wide open. A man stood in it, dressed in camouflage snow gear, his features concealed by a face mask. He gestured to his similarly covered companions and shouted over the chugging of the snowmobiles parked out front, one of them tethered to a covered trailer. Big enough to stuff a body? He couldn’t be sure. Or was Rilee still inside her home?
Two of the guys jammed dark tinted helmets on their heads before they hopped onto the snowmobile with the covered trailer. They turned around in the clearing by her place, preparing to leave. The remaining fellow moved toward the other sled.
A stupider man would have rushed in. A smart one noticed the weapons worn by the three men. Two handguns. A rifle. And another rifle strapped to a machine. Three against one and a woman to protect.