~Tatum's P.O.V.~
The Tavern had closed an hour earlier, as Tatum walked Kasumi to the door, he smiled at the disgruntled look on her face. Although she'd won the first chess game last week, he had recouped and is now ahead and games. But so far, she'd stymied him in another way - he still had no idea why she'd come to Cold Creek. Nonetheless he thoroughly enjoyed the verbal sparring. The little human had a key mind and a delightfully wry sense of humor.
After opening the door he let her out into the night. "Are you sure--"
"You always ask me that. I can walk myself home, thank you very much."
"As you wish." Despite his better judgment, he moved closer, noting the first faint whiff of female arousal and the dusky rose color that tinged her cheek. 'Why does this feisty human have to be so appealing?' With an effort, he stepped back and smiled down into eyes the amber brown of sherried Scottish whiskey. "Having witnessed you in a fight, I should be more concerned for your opponents."
"Now you're talking smart." As she left, she touched her fingertips to her temple in a jaunty salute.
'A salute?' Uneasiness raised his hackles. Danain stayed far away from anything to do with the military. After all, if the government ever learned of their existence, the probable outcome would be genocide for the shifters.
As Tatum watched the human cross the parking lot, he smiled. The way her round ass moved in those tight jeans... truly, a less Marine-like movement he couldn't imagine. He'd like to bend her over, and take her hips in a hard grip. Arousal purred to life inside him.
He took a deep slow breath to calm himself and scented Tavic. A short moment later his brother appeared, deterring to the edge of the parking lot to speak with Kasumi. They chatted briefly, and then Tavic ran a finger down her long hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. The scent of interest and arousal - from both of them - drifted down wind to Tatum.
'That is damned odd.' Shifters weren't interested in humans anymore than a dog wanted to breed with a cat. Even if that wasn't true, Danain couldn't afford to get involved with a human.
By the time Tavic approached, Tatum still hadn't figured out what to say. How can he lecture his brother when he himself felt the same. "She is a pretty human, isn't she?"
Tavic turned, his eyes on Kasumi's slim figure disappearing into the darkness of night. "Way too pretty. And a sore trial to my restraint. Why does she have to smell so damn good." His upper lip lifted as he scented the air. "Smells like she's testing your control too, eh, brawd? Ashame she's human, it's been a while since we shared."
"It has." Nothing felt as right as pleasing a woman with his littermate beside him.
As Tatum flicked off the last lights in the bar, Tavic strolled down the hallway and unlocked the heavy portal door.
The small sitting room was tidy enough. Tavic fingered the long gashes on the one couch. "Who clawed this up?"
"Rebecca's daughter, Linda, when she shifted early. Brawd, am I getting old or are our children entering initial transfer younger these days?"
"According to the news, puberty arrives earlier for humans; apparently Danain aren't any different." Tavic paused, and then grinned. "But yes, you are getting old."
"Bugger you." Tatum said mildly as he opened the closet door.
Tavic stepped in. Behind the hanging garments, he pressed two panels at once, moved his hands, and pressed two more. At the almost inaudible click, he shouldered open the door to the cave with a grunt of effort. No human would be able to open it by themself.
Tatum followed, breathing in the cold, damp air that smelled of dirt and minerals. Downstairs in the cave, he stripped and tucked his clothing into the carved out niches. The urgency, the need to transfer, tightened within him. With a sigh of relief, he opened the portal within his mind. Wildness blew into his soul like the wind through an open door. Magic coursed across his skin, sank deep into his bones, tingling, changing him. He let himself fall forward landing on his paws.
Tavic was still undressing, as easy going in this as he is with all things. Tatum yawned, curling his lip back exposing his fangs in a not-so-subtle hint.
His brother only grinned. "With your type A personality, you're probably going to have a heart attack before you're seventy."
As air wafted into the cave from the three tunnels, Tatum caught the scent of a rabbit and the tip of his tail twitched. With an effort, he kept his mind from sinking too deeply into the wildness. They had things to do before they could hunt. Finally Tavic shifted, and shoved his broader golden furred head into Tatum's narrower shoulders, 'typical Tavic affection.' Tatum thought, as the love he had for his brother mingled with the feline acceptance of a litterment.
Tavic's body was a fair bit bigger than Tatum's, yet Tatum was built for speed, but that never stopped him. Tatum rose on his hind legs, grabbing Tavic with his front paws. They tussled until, with his distinctive chirp of enjoyment, Tavic sprang down the left tunnel. Tatum followed, then took the lead as they ran up the mountain to one of the few roads in their forest domain. It was unmarred by tracks; no vehicle or person has passed through here since the last rain. They moved to check the next road.
The waning moon had risen in the black sky before they reached the most distant road. After this, they could hunt, and Tatum's anticipation rose when his ears caught the scrabble of a shrew in the brush.
Overhead the moon slid out of the clouds, illuminating fresh tire tracks. Tatum's claws unsheathed as anger welled inside him. Although occasionally owned by a lumber company, this Forest belonged to the Danain. With an effort, he fought his way free of emotions, for now.
Tavic's large muscular shoulder thudded into his, and Tatum heard a harshly suppressed snarl as his brother spotted the tracks.
Tatum padded silently into the forest, moving parallel to the road with Tavic on his tail. The ruts continued for another mile. Near a small clearing he caught the scent of humans and the cacophony of odors that accompany them: deodorant, shaving lotion, leather, laundry soap, bathing soap. He paused to letting his nose filter the information.
'Two men.' From The Faint stench of dung and urine, they only arrived a few hours ago. 'No fire.' A cold camp implied that they didn't want to be found. He flicked his ear to Tavic, and his littermate turned, slinking silently to the right of the camp, Tatum moved left.
Sitting with his back against a pine tree, the human on watch held a shotgun across his knees. The older man snored in his sleeping bag, black hair poking out through the top. Metal gleamed in the moonlight showing a pile of animal traps for large animals. Rage welled inside Tatum like molten lava. This was his mountain; they were hunting his people.
'Why? What did they know?'
He went deep inside himself and pulled power to draw on a Cosantir's awareness of his territory. Dev, Rosie, Angie, Toby... seven Danain total roamed the mountains right now. He needed to drive the intruders away and destroy their traps. But carefully... very carefully.
Having Tavic arrest them for trespass and illegal trapping could end up far worse if the hunters questioned how the sheriff found them in miles of wilderness. Danain survived by not drawing any attention.
Tavic appeared from the underbrush, anger obvious in his tight muscles and yellow glowing eyes. A tingle, a blur, and he was in human form, hidden from the camp behind brush and trees. Tatum followed suit.
"S'pose you're not going to let me rip their guts out." Tavic growled.
"Regretfully no." Tatum fought his own need to shred the hunters into little pieces. "They might have been hired to set traps without knowing why. Any other ideas?"
"Actually, yes." Tavic leaded against a cedar and scratched his back on the trunk. "I saw Toby's spoor. Fresh."
'Toby?' Taking a break from his construction company, the shifter was enjoying his vacation in animal form. "Spook them out of their camp?"
Tavic's face had an innocent expression that his friends knew to distrust. "Every hunter knows how troublesome bears are, especially ones that have learned how to scavenge. Why, I've heard Bears think any container are filled with goodies."
Tatum's gaze rested on the big cooler... undoubtedly filled with food. Then his gaze drifted to the packs and boxes scattered across the clearing, feeling the harsh scratch of stubble. The night was getting old.
He moved his mind to a Cosantir's awareness. Toby was very close. "You have a wicked soul, brawd."
~Tavic's P.O.V.~
A cougar snarled nearby.
From the shadows, Tavic watched as the man with the shotgun startle, hitting his head on the tree trunk he'd been leaning on.
When the underbrush rustled, Tavic grinned. Tatum must be rubbing up against every bush in the area. A loud snarl, even closer.
The guard jumped to his feet. The second guard frantically scrambled out of a sleeping bag and snapped up the tranquilizer gun. The two moved out of the clearing quickly and quietly.
Ten minutes later, Toby rampaged through the empty camp. The big bear enjoyed himself, clawing open boxes and backpacks and leaving litter strewn everywhere. Behaving exactly like a normal hungry bear.
Toby had saved the best for last - the three-foot-long ice chest. The bear clawed the cooler open, gouging the hard plastic. After a few slurping noises, Toby straightened. Half of a massive salami jutted from his jaws like a cigar.
Voices approached and Tavic stiffened, ready in his position. The hunters were returning, grumbling all the way. Tatum managed to lead them a far distance away before loseing them.
"Hey! Hey, dammit!" The first man stepped into the clearing, holding the thirty-aught-six like he knew how to use it. "Someone trashed our camp!"
'Get the hell out of there, Toby.'
Toby rose to his full height and let out a roar that halted the hunter's in their tracks barely long enough for Tavic to put a rock fall between the bear and the hunters. A shotgun blasted, echoing through the mountains. Sparks shot off granite.
Without speaking, one man moved to check Toby's trail while the other hung back, rifle poised on his shoulder.
From his advantage point, Tavic's gut tightened as he looked down and watched the way the pair functioned. The quickness of their response, even the hand signals they used, pointed to military experience. And Landon had been tortured. The threat to Danain might be deadlier than anyone had realized.