It's well after midnight when I pull into the outskirts of Gunn territory. I know they're expecting me, but I've still got a knot in my stomach. None of them are any happier about this than I am. But they've seen the contract, and they're willing to honor it. Didn't even put up too much of a fuss.
I'm not sure what that says about Livvy. I'm not sure I want to know.
Pretty soon, I'll have no choice.
Wincing, I crack my neck one last time. The fucking pillows in last night's fleabag motel were stuffed with corn husks, I think.
Just as I kick down the stand, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I dig it out and peer at the suddenly too-bright screen.
Change of plans. Go to the bar in the neutral zone. My friend will meet you and bring you into Clan territory safely.
It's the longest message Livvy has ever sent me. We exchanged numbers six months ago, and she's never bothered to say more than a couple of words at a time.
Granted, I haven't been feeling very talkative, either. But she could at least try to be pleasant.
I type back:
Safely? Is somebody out for my hide?
Standing there with nothing but the noise of the crickets keeping my company, I feel watched. The hairs on the back of my neck start to stiffen.
It seems to take forever for her to answer.
Just go.
Good God, this woman is maddening. And I haven't even met her yet.
I refer back to the rumpled, makeshift map in the back of my pocket. The bar's several miles to the west, but not too far. Further than I want to ride, but she's not giving me much choice. If I just wander into Clan territory without an escort, there's no telling what'll happen to me.
This is why I hate Clans. Herds, more like it. They get more and more paranoid, feeding off of each other's fear and mob mentality. I stayed on my own in Douglas Mountain, and I'll stay on my own here.
On my own, with Livvy. Of course.
There's a single, faint spotlight shining out over the bar's parking lot. It's not much, but in this pitch blackness, it might as well be the sun.
Ten hours, and counting.
Right after I kill the engine, I take a second to gather my thoughts. Close my eyes, suck in a deep breath of the fresh mountain air.
It might not be so bad, living here. Hell, I like snow. And the cop wasn't wrong - I could use a pickup. I sold the piece of shit I was driving in Douglas Mountain to help finance this trip, but now that I'm settling down...
Shit. Settling down. It still makes my skin crawl if I think about it too much.
When I walk into the bar, the floor creaks a little under my Timberlands. There's a tall, swarthy hulk of a man behind the bar, wiping it down with a rag. He glances in my direction just long enough for us to size each other up. All of his vital statistics flash into my mind with just a whiff of his smell -
Loner. Jaguar. Hybrid. Not interested in a fight, but willing to throw down if necessary.
I'm no threat to him, and he's no threat to me. We both nod in a silent agreement to give each other a wide berth.
There's only one other person in the bar.
Livvy's friend is certainly no little slip of a girl. No, indeed - she's all woman. She must've heard me come in, she must be able to smell me, but she doesn't bother to acknowledge it. I give myself a second to take her in - hell, I might almost be a married man, but I'm not blind. At least, not yet.
Something about her scent tells me that she's the kind of woman who would claw my eyes out, if she had any idea what I was thinking.
But how can I avoid it? She's all soft skin and lush curves, and that light, airy sundress doesn't do anything to hide her gorgeous body.
Shit, I've gotta get a grip.
I take in a deep breath, and her intoxicating scent follows.
Cougar. Independent. Fierce.
Fertile.
Goddamn. That is one piece of information I don't need.
A sudden twitch in my dick reminds me that I haven't been paying it much attention lately. With the long journey and the short nights, trying to make the trip in as few hours as possible, I haven't had much time or energy for...recreational activities.
It's easy for me to forget about my baser needs when there's not a ripe, curvy female in heat sitting there in front of me. I'd actually forgotten how powerful the pull is. How strong the scent. The instinct to grasp, to bite, to mount, to claim. To thrust inside her and plant my seed, ensuring my bloodline will live on forever.
Goddamn.
I take a couple steps closer.
"You must be Nolan."
Her voice is husky and alluring. I swallow hard, willing my dick to calm down.
Finally, finally, she looks at me. Her eyes are forest-green, setting off the gentle pink flush in her cheeks. Wisps of unruly dark-blonde hair fall around her face and shoulders, a silent rebellion against the messy braid resting on the back of her neck.
It's muggy as hell in here. I peel off my leather jacket, nodding silently in response to her not-question.
Her eyes dart across my arms, taking in the twisting, curling designs in ink. Ever so quickly, she licks her lips.
"Sit down," she says. "Have a drink."
"Love to," I reply. My voice is rough and ragged, and I realize I haven't really talked to anyone since I checked into the motel last night. I clear my throat, and try again. "Dunno if it's a good idea. We've still got a trip ahead of us."
"Not too far," she says. "One beer won't hurt."
Well, she's not wrong about that. The last thing I wanna do is leave Livvy's friend with the impression that I'm an irresponsible sonofabitch, but even I can manage not to crash my motorcycle after a single drink. Still...it feels suspicious. Like she's testing me.
"We can't leave for another two hours," she says, after a minute of silence. "Might as well take a load off."
Shit. I'm supposed to sit here for two hours, ignoring the scent of a female in heat, and resist the urge to drink the entire bar? My sanity's never gonna survive this.
"Two hours? I've been on the road all day." I hope I sound more irritated than horny.
"I realize that," she replies, evenly. Something in her tone makes the bartender perk up his head from the other end of the bar. "But there's nothing I can do, Nolan. I'm sorry."
Grumbling to myself, I take a seat. Very deliberately, I leave an empty stool between us. It's enough of a buffer to keep me from embarrassing myself.
Probably.
"What's your name?" I ask her, as the bartender pulls me a glass of something on tap without asking.
She hesitates for a second. "Delilah." It drips from her tongue like honey bourbon.
"Of course," I smirk, before I can stop myself.
Delilah arches a brow at me. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing," I reply, taking a gulp of my beer. "I dunno what I'm saying anymore. I've hardly been sleeping lately."
"How long have you been on the road?" She brushes a lock of hair away from her eyes, and I force myself not to stare.
"Three days."
Her brow furrows a little. "You made it from Seattle to here in three days? That's..." She shakes her head. "Almost impossible."
"Guess not." I grin.
I wish she'd stop glancing at my biceps. Normally I'd appreciate the attention, but I'm supposed to be marrying her friend tomorrow. I can't afford any distractions. Especially not one with soft, wide hips and bedroom eyes.
"So, did you grow up here?" It's supposed to be an innocent question, making conversation, just passing the time. But it sounds like a lot more than just casual interest. I take another swig of my beer, like it'll somehow cool off the simmering lust in my belly.
Delilah shakes her head. "I was raised by humans. Mostly. Only learned about my real heritage when I was a teenager and I had my first shift."
"Must've been scary."
She shrugs. "Yeah. Well, some girls find blood in their underwear, I turned into a giant cat...growing pains, am I right?"
I snort into my drink.
"Liv didn't tell me much about you," she says. "But I can already see you're not what I expected."
"Oh yeah?" I glance at her, sidelong. "How come she didn't meet me herself?"
Delilah just shrugs again. "She asked me for a favor, I did it. I assume she and Kane are still working on the arrangement."
"Still? It's been six months."
"Cougar politics, man." She smirks. "Clan Gunn sticks to their own. You're just lucky the enforcer is already mated to a hybrid, so he's not as much of a stick-in-the-mud as the rest of them."
"But we're both cougars. What's the issue?"
"You're not from here," Delilah replies. "Honestly, that's all I know. Liv never told me much. Just said there was a contract, and she was obligated to fulfill it."
"We both are," I clarify. "Not sure which one of us is happier about it."
"Well, it doesn't make sense to me."
"Cougar politics, man," I echo.
She shakes her head. "What do you know about politics?"
"Enough," I tell her. "I've lived around clans for long enough."
"But not in one," she counters. "You've always been kind of an outcast, haven't you?"
Something about the way she says the word - outcast. It sounds dark and forbidden, in the best possible way.
Why would Livvy send a friend in heat, alone, to escort her new mate into the Clan? It doesn't make sense...
I shake my head to clear the confusion. I've been awake for too long, nothing's going to make much sense until I can settle in for a good night's sleep.
My last night as a single man.
"I have trouble with authority," I admit. "And you're right. Politics just ain't my thing."
"Liv's either." Another beer appears in front of her, and she nods at the bartender. "Thanks, Dean."
"No problem," he says. "You?"
"Might as well." I glance at the clock. It's barely been half an hour. I've got more than enough time to sober up before we hit the road.
"Whatever it is about this contract, Liv seems convinced she has to bear it out," Delilah goes on. "So to speak."
"I think it's the wolves that are more responsible," I reply, with a smile. "I can explain the whole thing to you, if you want. But it's not the most riveting thing in the world."
"We've got nothing but time," she points out.
Yeah, and I can think of a more pleasant way to pass it.
I want to smack myself. Or at least dunk my head in a bucket of cold water. True, I've never met my mate - my bride - and true, we don't love each other. We don't even really like each other, as far as I can tell. But it's still not right. If I can't control my animal instincts' reaction to someone like Delilah, how will I stay a faithful mate?
One thing I will not do is screw around on Livvy. Even if she hates my guts and never wants to sleep in the same bed with me, I'm determined not to be a douchebag about it. And anyway, it'd be too dangerous. If word got out...
"I'm listening," says Delilah.
Right. The contract.
"Well." I take another gulp of my beer to avoid looking at her. "Back where I'm from, the Douglas Mountain clan, the shifters all intermingle. It's been that way for a dog's age. I don't know why, but I guess they wrote a treaty years and years ago. There's still a lot of arguments about everyone's concerns being equally represented and blah blah blah, but mostly, it keeps the peace. Problem is, the thing's been changed and added to and re-translated so many times, there's parts even the elders don't totally understand.
"I guess, years ago, a cougar enforcer from Deals Gap came to Douglas Mountain to broker a deal. He brought his daughter, she was eighteen, untouched, all that nonsense...well, there was a young cougar stud in the Douglas clan who took a shine to her. As far as anyone can tell, it was mutual. But he knocked her up, and 'spoiled her virtue,' according to Dear Old Dad.
"It nearly started a war. But the clans were able to keep the peace by signing an agreement stating that their great-great-great-great..." I make a vague gesture at my own chest. "...you know, whatever. Basically, I'm a trophy husband to keep one of the ancestors of Clan Gunn from murdering everyone at Douglas Mountain on sight. And because of all the alliances between the different species out there, if the cougars are wronged, then everybody's up in arms."
Delilah's eyes are wide. "That's crazy," she says.
"Sure is," I agree. "My grandparents got wind of the agreement when I was just a baby. Tried to hide me out with humans, but it went about as well as your exile did, sounds like."
"I don't get it." She shakes her head. "Can't everyone just agree this is stupid, and move on with their lives?"
"Now who doesn't understand clan politics?" I smirk at her. "Douglas Mountain is growing. Outcasts and hybrids from other clans flock over there, because it's supposed to be the place where everyone's welcome. Problem is, some people's definition of 'everyone' only includes who they want. It's like a tinderbox over there."
Delilah takes a deep breath, and I absolutely do not watch how her breasts rise and fall. "So basically, what you're saying is...if you don't marry Livvy, it'll be the inciting incident for World War III."
"Pretty much." I trace my thumb along the condensation on the side of the glass, willing time to pass quicker. I don't know how much longer I can do this. Her scent is almost overwhelming me now, every pheromone in her body literally begging me to strip her clothes off and...
Fuck's sake. Get a grip.
I can control myself. And judging by her body language, sitting there all prim and proper on the barstool while she rages with hormones inside, she's more than capable, too. But it's only a matter of time before I say something stupid, or give her the wrong look, and suddenly she's running back to Livvy, telling her all about what a scumbag her new mate is.
Delilah sighs. "Human life was so much simpler."
"Yeah, well." I glance at the clock again. "There's no place for us there."
"No place for us here, either," she points out.
"Yeah, but at least they understand why we occasionally turn into animals. That one's kind of hard to explain to the world-at-large."
She doesn't say anything. The clock ticks away, and the bartender's disappeared into the back room, leaving us alone here. I can still sense his presence, but he's not paying much attention to us.
"I heard..." Delilah hesitates, then lowers her voice further. "I heard there might be a cure..."
My grip on the glass tightens. Of all the shit I thought I'd deal with in Deals Gap, I never thought I'd hear talk of a cure.
Like there's something wrong with us. Like we're sick.
"The fuck did you say?" I mutter, mindful of catching the bartender's attention.
Delilah swallows, hard. "Nothing," she murmurs. "Just...nothing. It's stupid. Never mind."
I might not be much for clan politics, but there's one thing that gets my hackles up like no other. There's a reason why no respectful shifter clan will stand for talk of a "cure." Over the years there have been plenty of legends about it, some kind of medicine or potion or spell that would make us human.
It's only appealing if you think of yourself as half-human. That somehow, getting rid of the transformation would make you better. But I'm not half-human. I'm not half-anything.
"Delilah, I know you're Livvy's friend." I take a deep breath before continuing. The last thing I need right now is to lose my temper. I'm barely keeping myself under control as it is, with all the conflicting desires in my body. "So I'm not gonna say what I'd say to you if you were a stranger. But I don't wanna hear you say anything like that. And I'm guessing nobody else around here does, either."
She just sits there, fuming quietly. I think I was pretty gentle, all things considered. There are some clans where talking about a cure will land you hard time.
Finally, she speaks. "Livvy said you were full of yourself."
My nostrils flare. "She doesn't even know me."
"And whose fault is that?" She wheels around to face me, suddenly, and my heart jumps into my throat. Goddamn, she's beautiful. And the more irritated I get, them more I want to work out my frustrations deep inside her.
"Ask her," I snap. "She's never said more than couple words to me. Texts, at that. I tried to call, she never answers. I can take a hint."
"Maybe she's scared." Delilah glares at me. If I didn't know better, I'd say her lip is quivering. "Maybe she's just as pissed off as you are about this whole situation, and she doesn't know what to say."
Something doesn't add up. She's way too invested in this, but my brain's too clouded from the scent of her heat. I can't figure it out. Every time I start to think about her too much, my mind's taken over with a red cloud of lust.
It's not that I don't have sympathy for the girl. I was raised by humans too, I understand how hard it is to fit in. But that doesn't mean I want a cure.
"Well, we've both got plenty to be scared of," I grunt. "But the way I see it, we're doing everything we can to keep the peace."
"It's not fair," Delilah mutters. Shit, I wasn't imagining it. There's definitely at least one tear glistening in her eyes. She brushes it away angrily, like a woman who's not accustomed to crying over much.
It's completely understandable. The heat cycle alone is enough to drive the strongest female to tears, and now she probably feels like she's losing her best friend to an arranged marriage that she can't control.
Friend? Or something more?
I hadn't even thought of that. But maybe she's got feelings for Livvy that are making this even harder than it has to be.
I've got nothing against it on general principle, but she could make things messy. The last thing I need is a romantic rival, male, female, cougar or otherwise.
"I know it's not." I'm sorely tempted to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder, but I know it'll lead to something more. Something neither of us really wants. "Life's not fair, and then you die. I'm just trying to make the best of it, and I'm sure Livvy is too."
"She doesn't need you," Delilah replies, her voice thick with the tears she won't allow to flow. "She doesn't need anybody."
"We need each other," I correct her. "Or we're both fucked."
"You could've just stayed in exile." She folds her arms tightly across her chest. "If you weren't there to fulfill the contract...nobody could blame her."
"And she could've run away, too," I point out. "But she didn't. How is that my fault?"
Delilah's jaw clenches. "Maybe it wasn't so easy for her."
Ah, shit. If this is really a love triangle situation, I'm giving up right now and heading for Mexico. There's no way I can compete with Delilah. Her eyes, her scent, the sound of her voice...
If I can't get my animal urges under control, this love triangle's about to get a lot more complicated.
"And you think it would've been easy for me?" I shoot back.
"Damn sight easier," she replies. "Who would miss you?"
All of the suppressed anger, bitterness and lust boil up into a white-hot rage. I jump up from my seat, slamming my fist down on the bar. But before I have a chance to growl out a response, the bartender appears out of nowhere.
He's got a fistful of my shirt before I realize what's happening. I've never been in a fight with another Were - I'm not that stupid. Delilah's scent has totally wrecked my common sense.
"Watch yourself, kid." His snarl is the most menacing goddamn thing I've seen in my life. I think I could take this guy, just barely, but only riding on pure adrenaline.
But I can't. Obviously, being in neutral territory, he's not some kind of influential clan leader or something. But I don't exactly need to start out my stay in Deals Gap by beating the shit out of the guy with all the booze.
"Sorry," I grit out. "Forgot myself for a second."
He stares me down, his eyes boring holes right through me. Whatever he sees there, it makes him loosen his grip and step back.
"Don't let it happen again," he grunts, before disappearing.
It's deathly quiet in the bar again. I look down at my half-empty beer, wondering how the hell I'm going to survive the rest of this night without either fucking or fighting. Or both.
"This isn't going to be easy on either me or Livvy," I hear myself say. Delilah's sitting her very still, hugging herself, not looking at me. "But she needs your support right now. I know she doesn't like me, I know you don't like me, but..."
Somehow, when I started that sentence, I thought I'd have a good way to end it. But nothing's coming to me.
Delilah glances at her phone, like it's set off some silent signal. "Shit," she mutters.
I have a feeling, whatever it is, I'm not gonna like it either. But I don't ask.
Sighing sharply, she taps out a response while glaring at the screen.
"We can't go," she says, at last. She's still not making eye contact. "Not tonight. Kane can't promise us safe passage. The wolves are out. They're not happy about any of this, and he won't be able to finish negotiations until tomorrow at the earliest."
I let out a groan before I can stop myself. Scrubbing my hands across my face, I try to take in this new information. The wolves from Douglas Mountain insist on going through with it, the wolves from Deals Gap are thirsty for blood if we do...how the hell can I keep up?
"I'm willing to risk it." I reach for my jacket. "With or without you. Just point it out to me on the map, I'll head out on my own if you're too scared."
"I'm not scared." She turns her glare on me. "I'm cautious. And you should be too. The wolves won't hesitate to tear us apart if they're so inclined."
"They have to catch me first," I reply, shrugging into my jacket.
"Don't be an idiot." Delilah stands up, eyes flashing. "You're going to lead them right to your future wife."
"Like they don't know where she is already?" I've got absolutely no intention of doing that - I'll lose 'em easy enough - but of course Delilah's not going to believe that. "I don't negotiate with terrorists. I'm not waiting out this whole night in a muggy bar with..."
It almost comes spilling out of my mouth. A female in heat. She must know how she's affecting me, but she's not showing it. Good. The closer I play this to my chest, the better.
"You don't have to." She relaxes slightly, but only slightly. "I've got blankets and pillows in my truck. We can sleep out there. It'll be more comfortable."
Am I really that brain-addled, or is she blowing hot and cold worse than a broken heat pump? A second ago she looked ready to kill me, now she's proposing we snuggle up in bed together.
This is nuts. I'm nuts. One of us definitely is.
I let out a bewildered laugh. "Are you goddamn kidding me, Delilah?"
She gives me a totally innocent look. She's surprisingly good at it. "What do you mean? I thought you didn't want to sleep in the bar."
"I'm not sleeping here at all," I tell her. "Did you think I was bluffing? I'll take on the whole damn wolf clan. I don't care. They need to know I'm not gonna just roll over and..."
Delilah rolls her eyes at me. "They'll make you into cougar kebabs in about five seconds flat. Think this through for a second, you know I'm right."
Is she?
I have no way to be sure. But with my head addled by her scent, it's probably best if I don't make any life-threatening decisions right now.
Well, shit. I'm about to spend the night fighting the urge to lick her all over. Not exactly how I wanted to spend my last night as a single man.
I follow her outside.
"I don't think this is a good idea," I hear myself say, even as she spreads out the blanket in the bed of the truck.
"Why not?"
Really?
"You know, the..." I make a series of vague gestures between us. "I mean, you - and me..."
Wow, smooth.
"Are you insinuating that I can't control myself?" she demands.
I shake my head.
"Well, I sure hope you're not implying anything else." Her hand briefly taps on the little leather holster at her hip. "Because I've got a very sharp knife that will teach you self-control pretty goddamn quick."
How did I not notice that knife before?
More importantly, why does a cougar carry a knife?
"Of course I'm not..." I shake my head. "I just meant, it might not be the most comfortable thing. For either of us."
"I've slept in my truck a million times," she replies, breezily. "It's plenty comfortable."
Okay, now she's just fucking with me.
But I don't see any better options, so I bed down next to a cougar in heat.
It's definitely more comfortable than it looks. This little nest of hers is very nice. I could almost sleep peacefully here, if I didn't have a throbbing hard-on.
"I didn't mean to give you such a hard time," is the first thing she says to me when we're lying next to each other.
I snort.
"This whole situation, it just..." she sighs heavily. "It just sucks. You know?"
I turn my head to look at her. "You weren't serious, talking about the cure...were you?"
Her smile softens. "No. Not really. That was..."
"A test," I finish for her. "Well. I hope I passed."
Delilah laughs. "Yeah, I think you did."
"I mean." I stare up at the stars, trying to pick out the constellations I remember. "I'm not saying there's nothing I miss about just being human. But...this is who I am, now. The cat's not just a part of me, it's who I am. All the time, even when I'm like this."
"I know what you mean." She nods. "Livvy and I...we both grew up outside, with human 'parents.' I guess that's why we get along so well. It's hard to understand unless you've done it." She glances at me. "What do you miss most?"
Of course, this is still a test. I'd be stupid not to realize that.
"Just the simplicity, I guess." I'm not going to talk about the people who raised me - that's a can of worms I don't need to open right now.
"I miss my cat," she says, simply. "Weres don't really keep pets. Which...makes sense, I guess. Lots of them freak out. Which is understandable. But my cat, Mr. Midnight...he always liked me. I guess maybe because we got him when he was a kitten. He never knew there was anything strange about me. He was my best friend. But one day, he slipped out and ran away."
She pauses for so long, I'm starting to think that's the end of the story.
"I found him the next day." Delilah's voice cracks a little. "In the middle of the road. He must've..."
She sniffles, and all I want to do is slide over and fold her into my arms. But I know how that's gonna end.
"He looked so peaceful," she says, at last, letting out a long breath. "Just like he was asleep. The breeze ruffling his fur. I buried him far out in the woods, almost a mile from my house." A pause. "The house where I was living back then. It was never my house, and I guess that's maybe why I didn't want him there. Didn't feel right. The woods always seemed more like home."
Another long silence, when all I can hear is the crickets singing.
"I still go there sometimes," she confesses, at last. "It's not that far away. When I need to go someplace quiet...just think. I know it's stupid. He was just a cat."
I resist the urge to reach for her hand. "Funny thing for somebody like us to say."
She chuckles a little. "Yeah. I guess it is. He wasn't 'just' anything. He was my best friend."
Somehow, it's both the saddest and sweetest thing I've ever heard.