Never.
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” his happily married boss said.
“No way. Not happening.”
I’d rather die than get hitched.
Unlike many, he didn’t believe in a fated mate. As if he could look at someone and know they were the one. His mother claimed to have had it with his father. A widow since Mateo was nine, she’d never brought a man home for him to meet.
She clung a little tight to her only son. She also overcompensated, hence the amount of baggage that went with Mateo to Kodiak Point. He’d made sure none of the bags was large enough for her to climb in. She’d done that once on a trip to Peru.
She’d emerged from the massive trunk that was supposed to contain field supplies and smiled. “Surprise.”
He’d refused to talk to her for a week after that stunt.
The ride into Kodiak Point proved sketchy, with winter just setting in. The ice roads, spanning over lakes, showed few signs of cracking and moisture. A crisp layer of snow covered most of the area except for the hard-packed ice they travelled over.
He wouldn’t deny it made him nervous when they went over bodies of water. If the ice happened to fail as they crossed, he’d be in for a polar swim.
But they made it to Kodiak Point, along with their cargo. The small settlement was not quite big enough for the word town, and just as rustic as expected, with a caribou trotting down the icy road, pulling a sled with a woman and child riding inside.
He’d never embarrass himself like that.
“That’s Kyle and his family. He’s practicing for the Slush Races,” his driver, Boris, said. The name suited his demeanor. The big burly man wore a perpetual scowl.
“Do I dare ask what that is?” he asked.
“Yearly event during the spring melt when shit turns to mud and slush.”
“And what’s the winner get?” he asked, leaning against the truck, which was backed into a squat building within sight of the main hamlet.
“The satisfaction of beating people.” And not said but implied: Duh.
A side-by-side, also called an ATV depending on who you chatted with, whipped in their direction, a single guy behind the wheel of the utility sport vehicle.
Boris said, “That’s the alpha.”
Greeted by the clan leader himself, who turned out to be a large man with dark hair and a matching beard. “Reid Carver. Clan Leader of Kodiak Point.” Reid held out his hand to Mateo, a very human gesture. Shifters relied on scent for greeting.
He shook it. “Nice to meet you.”
Reid gestured to the ornery driver. “I see you’ve met my second, Boris.”
“You forgot to add enforcer if your ass gets out of line,” grumbled the moose, who’d probably give him a run for his money in a bare-knuckle fight.
“I’m sure Mateo knows better than to cause any problems,” Reid stated.
“The first rule of shifter club is there is no shifter club. Yeah. I know.” Although that rule was being bent quite a bit lately. They’d had issues since some twisted fellow down south, by the name of Parker, had exposed them. While they’d managed to more or less contain the fallout and convince humans he’d lied about shifters existing, they now had dragons to contend with.
Fucking dragons, which was kind of cool since he’d never suspected they actually existed. It also helped because it meant the human world focused on the cool creatures and not their possibly furry neighbors.
Not that dragons had meant to come out. It all happened by accident because of some kind of dragon skirmish that caught the attention of the world. No amount of scrubbing could erase the many videos, but so far, people were handling it. After all, everyone loved dragons. It gave him hope that when humanity realized shapeshifters existed too, they’d accept it and not try to hunt them to extinction.
“The secret that is not so secret anymore.” Reid sighed with a shake of his head. “So now, at this point, it’s more about protecting us from outside backlash.”
“Because a bunch of people living in relative isolation isn’t suspicious at all.” Mateo rolled his eyes.
“Watch your mouth, kitty cat,” growled Boris.
“Or what? Does the truth bother you?”
Before the moose could bristle further, Reid stepped in. “He’s right.”
But Boris wasn’t convinced. “I don’t see what’s so suspicious about a thriving community.”
“Thrive too much and you’ll have outsiders trying to get in,” was Mateo’s reply. “I’ve seen it before. Shifters pushed out of their towns and homes because humans rushed in thinking they’d found the next fool’s gold.”
“So it’s bad the town is prospering?” Boris shook his head. “That’s dumb.”
“But easy to fix,” Mateo said.
“What would you suggest?” Reid began walking back to his side-by-side, obviously expecting Mateo to follow.
“Hold on a second,” Boris snapped. “Why the fuck are you asking this stranger?”
“Because this stranger is only saying aloud something I’ve been worrying about. Problem is I’m not sure how to keep us viable while not drawing attention. Maybe an outsider can see the solution I can’t. So?” Reid eyed Mateo.
He had to think fast. “Quickest and easiest, lose a shipment or two.”
Reid grimaced. “That kind of waste just hurts me.”
“Who says it has to be wasted? You could have it stolen.”
“Steal our own cargo?” Boris snorted. “Then do what with it?”
“Sell it on the black market.” Mateo almost rolled his eyes at the obviousness of it.
“We’re not crooks,” Boris huffed angrily.
“No, but you are people trying to fly under the radar. So you have a few shipments either hijacked or lost. The how doesn’t matter, nor what you do with the stuff. Just make it seem like there’s a bit of an economics issue.”
A pensive expression appeared on Reid’s face. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”
“Except for the fact we don’t know any black-market operators,” Boris pointed out.
“I do.” Mateo had contacts.
“Ain’t that a surprise,” grumbled the moose-headed man.
“I’m interested. Once you get settled in, come talk to me,” Reid said.
Things were looking up. Planning a heist would certainly pass the time, and the place wasn’t completely horrible if you could ignore the fact that winter meant only a few hours of daylight each day. This time of year, night reigned. Given he thrived in the dark, he didn’t mind it as much as expected.
The local amenities weren’t exactly stellar. A general store and a few small establishments, many run out of people’s homes, were the extent of the shopping. Yet, for its size, it still carried just about everything a guy could need, and shipping of what they didn’t have could be arranged. Pretty much every day there was someone travelling into Anchorage or other towns on that icy road either with the big semi or one of the winter-equipped vehicles.
The remote nature of Kodiak Point made it ideal for hiding. The settlement was carved out of the wilderness, and it took only one trip into the woods to experience the top-notch hunting. He had to admit it was nice to get back in touch with the wild. He’d been city living for much too long.