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Mate Bond(19)

By:Jennifer Ashley


Kenzie kept up pleasant chatter with Gil as they rode through hills and  down into valleys where farms filled either side of the road. Gil talked  easily, he and Kenzie behaving as though they were old friends. Bowman  suppressed his irritation and remained silent.

The farm Gil drove to had been abandoned long ago, the owner neither  bothering to sell the land nor continuing to farm it. Weeds had taken  over the fields; the last crop had dried out and was yielding to fierce  choking grasses. Sheds around the fields had fallen in, disintegrating  on themselves.

The fight club had commandeered the larger, dilapidated barn, now just a  flat floor with a large roof over it. Shifters had replaced rotting  beams and timbers, shoring up the old place. Now, on fight club nights,  it was a teeming arena, alive with Shifters, humans coming to watch and  wager, adrenaline, laughter, and blood sport.

This evening, however, it was deserted and derelict. Gil stopped just below the arena, killing his lights.

Bowman got out, wincing when his leg straightened. Kenzie was beside him  almost instantly. She'd ceased her teasing and stood at his shoulder,  looking with him toward the ring.

An eighteen-wheeler was parked under the huge roof, its black paint  gleaming in the light of the flashlight lantern Gil carried. Bowman  didn't need a flashlight to see it, and he didn't need any more evidence  to tell him that the monster had been inside it. Its scent came to him  loud and clear.

"Damn," Kenzie said softly. "That really stinks."

The smell triggered Bowman's memory of fighting the creature. Pain and  rage mixed with fear flooded back to him, along with the adrenaline high  that had gotten him into Cade's truck to ram the solid wall of flesh.

He shuddered, his fight-or-flight reaction too close to the surface.  Kenzie put her hand on his arm, but he could feel that her fighting need  was as wound up as his.

Gil stood beside them, his human scent making only a small dent in the monster's. "Stinks, yeah, but the truck is empty."                       
       
           



       

"I know," Bowman said. "The scent is strong, but it's not sharp. It hasn't been in there for hours."

Gil flashed his light around the growing darkness. "The question is,  where did it go? I didn't feel like hunting for it by myself."

Smart of him. Bowman had no wish to encounter the thing again, but it  was a danger, and he needed to deal with it. "I'll have to go wolf," he  said.

"No, let me," Kenzie said quickly.

"No." Bowman turned to face her, catching her golden eyes in the dark. "I need you as backup."

Kenzie glared at him, and Bowman gazed steadily back at her, willing her  not to argue. Kenzie's chest, under a tight sweatshirt and fleece-lined  jacket, rose with her breath. Her eyes held wicked sparks that he  loved, flashing in fear and anger. She was trying to protect him.

He wanted to kiss her right now. More than kiss her-he wanted to lean  her back on the hood of the car and take her mouth, tasting her  strength. He wanted this woman with his entire body, and with every  thought he had, every day.

"All right," Kenzie said, still angry. "But if you break your leg again, don't come crying to me."

"I never cry."

Kenzie shrugged, but her body was stiff. "I know. You're the big, bad alpha. You just bitch and moan until we want to gag you."

Bowman let the fantasy of Kenzie tying him down and working a gag  between his lips flit through his mind. Then he shoved it aside. He'd  never get this problem solved if he didn't calm down.

Without another word, Bowman slid off his leather jacket and laid it on  the hood of Gil's car. He didn't bother to find a place to hide or ask  Gil to turn his back; he simply started shedding clothes.

Kenzie caught the shirt and T-shirt he threw off, making sure they got  folded up all nice. She was like that, going domestic in the most  incongruous places and making snide remarks about the messiness of  males.

She also looked her fill as Bowman toed off his boots and slid out of  his jeans and underwear, the cold air biting his ass. It was getting  colder by the minute, but Kenzie's gaze dropping to his cock made his  body roasting hot.

Gil was pretending to fix something on his flashlight, not looking at  the stark-naked male next to him. Kenzie, on the other hand, didn't have  a problem watching, a satisfied gleam in her eyes.

But enough. Time to finish this.

Bowman shifted as quickly as he could to wolf and dropped to all fours.  The world took on the curves he saw in wolf form-at the same time,  outlines were sharp, colors muted. His sense of smell nearly overwhelmed  him, especially with leftover monster stink, and his pricked ears heard  plenty in the darkness.

Kenzie's scent came to him even over the stronger smell, pure female  goodness. Gil Ramirez contained the too-salty scent of human, overlaid  with a subtler scent Bowman couldn't place.

Hmm. He didn't have time at the moment to find out what was up with that, but he realized that Gil was more than he seemed.

Scents of the night-air, cold, coming snow, small sleeping animals-were  hideously tainted by whatever had been in that truck. Bowman's nose  wrinkled, and he couldn't stop his growl.

"I know." Kenzie's voice, though she spoke softly, was loud to his sensitive ears. "It's awful."

Everything inside Bowman didn't want to approach the truck, but he knew  he had to hunt this threat. Noiselessly, he padded toward the  eighteen-wheeler, leaving the light and Kenzie behind.

The truck waited, inert, its polished black glinting where Gil's  flashlight brushed it. The truck was an inanimate object, Bowman knew,  but it seemed to crouch in the shadows as though lying in wait.

Bowman heard Kenzie coming behind him, ignoring Gil's admonition to be  careful. Kenzie knew what she was doing. He padded into the arena,  pausing at the edge to listen, sniff, assess.

No one was in or around the truck. His nose told him that. Whoever the  human driver or drivers had been, they were long gone. The beast wasn't  in it either. So why was Bowman so reluctant to go any closer?

He shut off every human thought running through his head and let himself  be guided by instinct alone. That didn't work well, though, because  every instinct of his wolf told him to leave that truck the hell alone.  Take Kenzie, take Ryan, leave the area, and hole up in a wild place with  them, and to hell with the human world.

The weight of his Collar around his neck stopped him. There were no wild  spaces for them anymore. They had to try to make it in captivity, to  build strength until the time was right for them to be free again. That  was the whole point of agreeing to move to Shiftertowns.                       
       
           



       

The Collar, however, sparked once as Bowman forced his wolf feet forward. It sensed his rising need to fight.

The truck loomed. Bowman made himself sniff its perimeter, but that told him nothing new.

He sat down, waiting for the other two, and looked up at Kenzie when she  stopped beside him, her hip pressing his flank. The intimacy and peace  of simply touching her flowed into him, quieting the sparks in his  Collar, the jangle of his nerves. She stroked the top of Bowman's head,  giving him a nod of understanding.

When they'd first become mated, Bowman had told Kenzie never to pet him when he was in wolf form. He wasn't a frigging dog.

So Kenzie, of course, made sure to pet his head at least once every time  he went wolf. She did it again now, smoothing between his ears,  scratching behind them. He'd never, ever tell her how much he liked  that.

"We need to open it up," Kenzie said to Gil.

She stroked Bowman's head one more time before she joined Gil, who had thoughtfully brought along a large set of bolt cutters.

Gil, who had the advantage of a weaker sense of smell, went right up to  the truck. Bowman knew he could smell just fine, though, because he  said, "Sheew," as he broke open the door.

The stench that wafted out made all three of them back up rapidly. The  monster wasn't inside, but there was no doubt it had been confined in  the truck for some time. It had done what all animals do, judging from  the wetness on the floor-repeatedly.

"Wait," Kenzie said. She put her hand on Gil's arm, a familiar gesture  that any other time might have made Bowman slam Gil into the nearest  wall. "Flash the light in the corner again."

Gil, happy to oblige, did. "Is that blood?"

"Sure is," Kenzie said. "Kind of a lot of it."

"Did it kill someone?" Gil asked. His dark face had gone a shade lighter, and the lantern swayed.

"I don't think so," Kenzie answered. "I'm willing to bet that blood  belongs to the monster. Bowman must have hurt it more than he thought."