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As he raced into the Bitterroot territory, Parker remembered one of his mother's favorite aphorisms, usually pronounced at a late hour after his stepdad had hit her. Parker would ask her why they didn't leave his stepdad right away, and she'd say, "Because, son, no good decisions were made at this hour."
What had struck him back then, though, was if not at that midnight hour, then when? When would she make a good decision?
And what struck him now was that this decision to run after Kayla—this was a good decision.
The pine needles slipped beneath his scrambling paws. Despite the fast pace, he kept alert for the sounds of anyone else—patrols, people looking for Brown and Blond, or even Kayla making her way to him.
He hoped she was okay. She had to be okay.
He would fucking kill Sloan if he hurt her.
Headlights came around a bend in the drive. He skidded to a stop and hunkered down so his belly lay flat against the ground. The car's windows were lowered. Two people sat up front, neither of them talking. One person sat in back, his face slightly illuminated by a phone screen. One of the people in the front was that Rhiannon chick—the disappearing leopard shifter. The men, Parker didn't recognize.
Once the car's taillights were out of sight, Parker continued down the drive. He stopped when he reached a circular driveway that looped in front of a large house. It was a fucking mansion, out in the middle of nowhere. Ugly as hell, too. And that was in the dark. In the light of day, he guessed it would be even uglier. Parker would take the little cabins at the Ring of Fire over this, any day.
Nothing moved, nothing made a sound. The shadows around the house were still, the lights off.
He couldn't wait any longer. Shifting into his human form, he stalked, naked, up to the front door. The handle was cool in his hand. Gently, ever so gently, he turned it.
It was well-oiled and made no sound. He eased open the door and stepped inside.
Moonlight came in through the rear windows that looked into the back yard, so Parker's eyes didn't need to adjust. He sniffed the air, searching for that bubble gum scent of his mate.
There, near steps leading to the second floor. It was faint, but she'd gone that way at some point. Parker started forward. On a little table next to the steps rested a phone—Kayla's. He growled under his breath, because no way would she have left her phone there voluntarily.
Just as he reached the second-floor landing, he heard a toilet flushing. Before Parker could find a spot to hide, a man stepped out of a room. His dark eyebrows shot up in surprise at Parker. "Who the hell are you—"
Parker jammed his fist into the guy's throat. The guy stumbled back, clutching his neck, and Parker shoved him into the bathroom. The guy was breathing, so Parker opened drawers until he found the washcloths. He stuffed one in the guy's mouth, then yanked the shower curtain down and tied the guy up. It wouldn't hold him for long, but long enough for Parker to find Kayla, he hoped.
The guy glowered at him and made muffled noises. Parker flipped on the bathroom fan to drown out some of the sounds, then stepped out, making sure to lock the door before pulling it shut.
He looked down the hall. Fuck, this was a big-ass house. Kayla was close, though—he just knew it. So he started down the hall. He'd try every door until he found her.
One door after the next. He opened each one. Most of the rooms were empty, which was a relief. One showed him a sleeping couple, their naked limbs twined around each other.
He paused with his hand on the next doorknob. There was no sound behind him, but he sensed something. Turning, he saw a large wolf stalking toward him, teeth bared.
The wolf snarled and hunched to leap at him. Parker held up his hands—there was no defense, no time to shift into his tiger. It would be impossible to fight off an animal like this hulking wolf while he was in his human form, but damned if Parker wouldn't try.
The scent in the air told him this wolf was Sloan. It had to be—this was the scent that surrounded Kayla when she'd returned from her other trips here.
"I knew I didn't like you," Parker said.
The wolf lunged forward. Parker sidestepped, and the wolf got his shoulder instead of his throat. His teeth just grazed him, but murderous intent shone in the wolf's eyes.
This wolf intended to kill Parker and he wasn't going to miss next time.
The hallway seemed to tilt, and Parker felt himself stumbling to the side. He grabbed a door jamb to keep his balance. Looking down, he saw that his shoulder was bleeding—badly. He'd thought the wolf had just grazed him, but he must have torn through something important.
The nearest room was the one with two people in it. If Parker went in there, he'd have two of Bronson's people to fight. Likely, the snarls of the wolf had already woken them. There wasn't much time. He'd fight this wolf as a man and fuck whatever low chances of survival he had. He'd survive, because he had to help Kayla.
Parker had never been afraid of a fight before, and he wouldn't be afraid now.
But the stakes had never been so high.
He struggled to his feet and advanced on the wolf, a rumbling growl vibrating from his chest. The sleeve of his shirt was soaked through with blood. The wolf poised to charge again. As soon as he lunged, Parker held up his uninjured arm and knocked the wolf aside.
The door behind him opened. Fuck.
Before the first person could walk all the way out, Parker grabbed the edge of the door and yanked it hard, surprising the guy coming through. Then he spun and punched him in the jaw.
The guy fell, unconscious. The man who'd been behind him gave a little shriek, then backed up. He lugged the guy into the bedroom along with him, then pulled the door shut. Parker heard the lock click into place.
A rumbling growl brought his attention back to the wolf. It poised to leap again. Parker was ready to knock the asshole aside once more.
Then the wolf's gaze flicked past Parker.
Parker wasn't going to fall for that trick. He kept his eyes on his enemy. But another wolf's scent reached his nose—a familiar wolf, a wolf he loved. Kayla. Her scent was threaded with fear and rage.
He couldn't help it. He turned to see her, he needed to know that she was okay. She kept her belly to the floor, her eyes lowered in submission.
"Kayla," Parker whispered. "It's okay."
Danger still waited, so Parker quickly turned back to the threat. It was too late—the wolf was already taking the opportunity of Parker's distraction. Claws scrabbled on the hardwood floor. The wolf leaped. Parker held up his arm to protect his neck and waited for the impact.
None came. Because instead of cowering submissively on the floor, Kayla rose up and met the wolf in the air. The two snarled and grappled. Parker stood again, looking for an opportunity to help.
But he wasn't needed, because a moment later, Kayla stood over the other wolf, blood coating her muzzle.
The other wolf, Sloan, was dead. Blood coated his neck and was seeping into his fur.
Kayla shifted into her human form, turned around, and vomited.
Parker stepped over to her, using the wall for support. "Kayla."
She spun back to face him. Fire shone in her golden-brown eyes. "Let's get out of here."
"Yeah." He followed her down the hall.
Over her shoulder, she said, "Bronson left with Dodd. I don't know who else is here tonight, so let's hurry."
"Rhiannon's with him, too, I think." He stumbled alongside her down the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing.
"You're gonna make it fine," she said, touching his arm.
He nodded. Hell yes, he would make it. It would be a bit of a walk to the truck, but he'd make it—they both would. "Do you want to grab some clothes?"
"There is nothing in this house I'd willingly wear," she said. "I'd rather drive home naked."
Parker couldn't help his smile. "As much as I'd like to see that, I have extra clothes in my truck."
Kayla stopped at the base of the stairs and grabbed her phone.
They left the dead wolf behind them and walked to Parker's truck.
Parker guessed there would be hell to pay for killing one of Bronson's men, but there hadn't been an alternative. "We need to text Jameson, let him know we're on our way home."
Nodding, Kayla sent a quick text. "He's already responding...he says they're an hour away and they'll wait until we meet them."
Her eyes filled with tears. Quickly, she wiped them away.
"Hey," Parker said, stopping so she would, too. He put his uninjured arm around her. "Hey, it's okay, you can cry. You've been through a lot."
"It isn't that," she said. "It's just that Jameson, you, everyone in the RCC. You guys have my back."
"Of course we do," Parker said. "You're my mate, and you belong with us all in the clan."
She sniffled and pressed her head against his shoulder for a moment before they moved on.
When they reached the truck, Parker didn't get inside it. Instead, he veered toward the trees.
"Where are you going?" Kayla asked.
"Just over here for a second."
She followed him and gasped when she saw the cougar standing over two of Bronson's men. "That's not a shifter," she said.
"No."
"You're back," the cougar said, "with your mate. Good hunting."
"Thank you," Parker responded.
"The skinny one was getting restless so I stood on him until he slept. They'll wake soon."
"I'm surprised you didn't kill them, feast on their flesh," Parker said.
"Distasteful," the cougar said. "Their stench would remain with me for days. I'd rather not."
"We'll be long gone before they wake," Parker said. "You're welcome to join us."
The cougar gave him a disdainful look. "Your territory to the west is too crowded. I will find another territory, and a mate of my own."
Parker was feeling faint, so he bid the cougar farewell and walked back to the truck.
"Sometime, I'm going to ask you what that was about," Kayla said. "It looked like you were talking to that mountain lion."
With a grin, Parker said, "I was."
She shook her head and was about to press the issue, but Parker swayed on his feet.
"You need to shift into your tiger," Kayla said, sounding worried.
"I'll shift when we get home."
"Don't be ridiculous."
He held out his arms. "Can't drive as a tiger, Kayla."
"I'll drive," she said, climbing into the truck and sitting behind the wheel. "Get in the back."
"You're sure?" he asked.
She nodded. "I'll go slow, but I'll get us home."
He liked the sound of that. He came up beside her and kissed her, hard. She tasted like blood, like victory, and in seconds they were both panting.
“There are some clothes under the seat,” he said. “Unless you want to drive home naked.”
She laughed and grabbed an old shirt of his, then put it on.
Parker stepped back and let his tiger take over. Much better. He could already feel his body mending. After hopping into the truck bed, he leaned against the rear window so he could watch his strong, kickass mate take them home.