Ducking his head in the face of Kontra’s fury, Payson quickly explained. “I was up early, so decided to take a look around. I found the bookstore Tim owns, and it was supposed to open at nine this morning. Well, he never showed up. His employee opened the store, but couldn’t get hold of him. I went round to his house, and scented a faint trace on the breeze. He left the house the night before, but didn’t return.” Payson chanced a quick glance at him through his lashes, before ducking his head submissively again. “He was intercepted by some other shifters. Their scent trail headed north.”
Kontra threw his head back and let out a roar of anguish. Angrily, he swung his arm and swiped the lamp off the nightstand. It slammed into the wall and shattered. His chest heaving, Kontra struggled to slow his breathing, to regain the control his pack thought him famous for.
Dropping back onto the bed, Kontra raked his fingers through his hair. He rocked forward and back, struggling to understand Fate’s design, then leaped back to his feet, deciding he didn’t give a shit about what Fate planned. He wouldn’t lose his mate—not again.
He grabbed his leather jacket and pulled it on over his bare chest and shoved his bare feet into his boots. Sucking in a deep breath, Kontra strode over to Payson and rested a hand on the back of his pack member’s neck. He used his thumb to massage the tension from the tendons and softly ordered, “Take me there.”
“Yes, boss,” Payson immediately responded.
Unmindful of the cold, Kontra followed Payson outside and to their bikes. Kontra swung his leg over and brought his hog to life. Seconds later, Payson, Adam, and Sam did the same to their own motorcycles. He followed Payson down the road and along a side street.
Payson came to a stop and put one foot down to balance his bike. He flipped up his visor and inhaled deeply. Looking at Kontra, he said, “Here.”
Kontra didn’t know why a hyena shifter had a nose better than a bloodhound’s, but the man had never been wrong. He slowly inhaled, working to differentiate between fuel exhaust, various humans, and animal excrement. Underneath all that, he found the scent of his mate.
It had the expected affect, since they were not yet mated, his dick quickly filled. “He was here,” he muttered. Kontra looked at Payson. “Can you follow the trail?”
Payson swallowed, then scented the air again. “Maybe. They were in a car,” he muttered. He started moving again, slowly, leaving his visor up as he wound his bullet bike through the streets in a northern direction.
It was slow going, and Kontra’s mounted every time Payson had to around, and seek a new direction. He had to bite his tongue several times to keep from snapping at the shifter. Kontra knew it wouldn’t help.
When Payson stopped for at least the sixth time, he actually took his helmet off, set it on the tank in front of him and rubbed his fingers through his hair. “Sorry, boss,” he murmured, frowning while looking around at the forest surrounding them. “I’m just not sure…”
frustration stop, turn
Kontra bit back a wave of frustration and anger. He nodded and kept his mouth shut, knowing he’d say something he’d regret to the man. It wasn’t Payson’s fault. It was his. He shouldn’t have returned to the bar. He should have camped outside his mate’s house to make certain nothing happened to him. The failing was his alone.
He rubbed his temples with his fingers, trying to alleviate the tension headache building behind his eyes. Kontra’s gaze flickered to the ground. He was about to pop his neck when something on the side of the road caught his attention.
Dropping his kickstand, Kontra swung his leg over and stalked to the side of the road. He squatted next to the tire marks in the dirt. “These tracks are fresh and seem to go directly into the forest,” he mused.
His friends parked their bikes and followed behind him as Kontra walked around the tracks to where the gravel stopped. “How is that possible with all the shrubbery?”
“Kontra, take a look at this,” Sam called from the other side of the tracks.
Kontra strode over and watched in shock as Sam put his hand through a tree. “What the hell?” he whispered, doing the same. A light tingle caressed his fingertips, but that was it. “An illusion,” Kontra muttered. “If the tree is an illusion…”
No longer trusting his eyes, Kontra closed them. Instead, he relied on his sense of smell and his bear’s instincts. With his hands held in front of him, Kontra took a slow step forward. He felt how the currents of wind caressed his cheeks and chest and slipped to the right, then forward again.
“Hey, Kontra!” Adam called. “Where the hell did you go?”