“Sonya, trust no one but Ty, and I mean no one. People are coming for you that will try to use you. I’m fine. Please don’t try to find me. It will only put us both in more danger. Concentrate on the missing women. They are the ones who need your help. Take the contents of the box I left you to the Yee Naaldlooshii. It will gain you an audience with Hok’ee, one of their elders, who may give you information in exchange for it.” Her voice sounded tired, but strong and defiant—all of which were pretty normal for her and revealed nothing to me.

  I snorted. “Thanks, Mother dearest, vague as fuck. As always,” I growled.

  The message repeated in an eerie echo that made me feel farther away from my mother than ever. Once her voice stopped, the device vibrated again. A little pop came from inside, and suddenly it became blistering hot.

  “Ow!” I dropped it onto the desk and put my burning finger in my mouth. “Did that thing just self-destruct?” I asked, in awe. Letting out an angry cronk, Gripp glided down from the rafters onto the desk and pecked at the device.

  “Einstein must have made it,” Ty said, giving it a poke to move it away from Gripp.

  Just in case, I swept the box into my lap and put an arm between the device and Gripp. “It’s not going to explode, is it?”

  At that Ty gave me a weak smile. “I do not think so. Einstein is more about subtlety than being flashy.”

  Gripp hopped over my arm, and I let him. He quickly set to attacking the thing with both beak and talons. Under other circumstances I would have smiled at his protectiveness. While he was distracted, I opened the little box my mother left for me. On a bed of yellowed tissue lay a crescent moon fashioned out of obsidian hanging on an expensive looking golden chain. A sob tore from me right before my legs started to give out. My box of childhood treasures fell from my other hand, nature’s gems tumbling all over the leaf-strewn floor. Before my knees could hit the ground, Ty caught me and pulled me up against his chest, supporting me. Making bird sounds of curious concern, Gripp hopped to the edge of the desk and peered down at us.

  “She never took this off, not even when she was on a really bad bender. It was my grandmother’s,” I said in a voice as tiny as I felt.

  “And she wants you to give it to this Hok’ee person?” Ty asked in a voice so gentle it seemed as if he feared I might blow apart like ancient porcelain.

  “It means something, something important, and I don’t know what. Dammit!” I drove the side of my left fist into the wall next to us. The old wood disintegrated.

  Hands on my shoulders, Ty turned me to him. “We will figure it out, I promise. She said she is all right. Do you believe her?”

  Letting out a long, shuddering breath, I nodded. “I guess I have to since she didn’t tell me where she was going.”

  “Maybe she went to see the Yee Naaldlooshii,” Ty suggested.

  While I wanted to let myself believe that, the psychoanalyst in me knew going down that rabbit hole would only be a false sense of comfort. She wasn’t going there, or she wouldn’t have given me the necklace. But Ty was doing his best to comfort me, and I didn’t want to take that away from him.

  “Yeah, maybe. Now I just need to find out where they’re located, and the best way to approach them.”

  Ty pulled out his phone. “I can help with their location. The other part, I am afraid, is going to be your department.”

  Tucking the necklace into my pocket and my box of childhood treasures under my arm, I rose. “I know exactly who to ask.”

  I hated to drag her back into this, but I had to talk to Yazhi again.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Grinding my teeth and trying not to prick a lip with my fangs, I threw my tent in the back of my Jeep. Before I could shut the tailgate, Ty tossed his overnight bag in. From the porch of my small cabin, Yazhi gave a thrust of her head in acknowledgement before retreating inside.

  “Seriously, Ty, you don’t need to come with me. I’m a big girl. I can handle myself. And Gripp will keep an eye on me,” I said for at least the third time.

  I was more than half tempted to see if I could beat him into the vehicle, start it up, and speed away before he could get in. Considering my complete lack of grace, the odds weren’t good. Chances were I would trip on a piece of gravel and go sprawling, adding injury to insult. As if to prove me right, Ty suddenly appeared before me in a flash, hands on my arms. The gentle look on his face undid my anger a little, along with the enticing way he rubbed my arms.

  “I know. That is part of what I love about you. It is me I am worried about,” he said.

  Face scrunching up in puzzlement, I asked, “What?”

  “I will be out of my mind with worry. I will not be able to focus.”

  A long, somewhat harsh breath pushed out between my receding fangs. “But you have classes to teach.”

  “Kids looking for an easy credit to add to their degree requirements.”

  “You don’t believe that.” I called him out, hearing it in his tone, seeing it in the tense lines around his horrible poker face.

  He started to play with my long hair, twirling it through his fingers. “It is true about some of them. But it is also true that I will not be able to focus while you are away.”

  “I can’t take you from your career, from what you love to do,” I argued.

  Arms going around me, he pulled me against his body. “I love being with you, Sonya. More than I love teaching, more than I love anything. And honestly, teaching a watered down version of history that excludes our kind wears me down.”

  My will, along with my argument, started to crumble. I gave it one last try. “But you love history. You love teaching it to the next generation so they don’t repeat the mistakes of the past. Your words. What you do is just as important as what I do. My words.”

  His eyes widened, filling with surprise and something else—joy. He bent down and kissed me, slow and sweet. Head leaned against mine, he sighed deeply. “You are amazing, Sonya Michaelson. I am the luckiest man on all the nine worlds.”

  Laughter bubbled from me. “I don’t know about that.”

  “I do,” he said. “I will make you a deal.”

  I pulled back enough to meet his gaze again, relaxing into his arms. “I’m listening.”

  “I will keep teaching, but I will transition to mostly online classes so I can teach on the road. We’ll get an RV or maybe a camper van so I can have a space to work.”

  Gaping at him like a fish, I stared at his beautiful blue eyes.

  He went on. “I have already told the TA I will be out for a long weekend starting today, so I am covered for this trip. Just think about it. A camper van with a roof rack on top for Gripp to perch on and a little kitchen and bed inside for us.”

  “You’ve actually put a lot of thought into this. But will you be happy teaching online classes?” I pressed.

  Trailing his hands over my hair, he gazed into my eyes. “Yes, if it means I get to help you. I can do research on the newly bitten you come across that need your help. I can contact the council and coordinate a verndari for them. I can locate their families, loved ones, and help determine if they can or should return to their old lives after going through the verða.” Deep in his blue eyes lay a vulnerability I hadn’t noticed before.

  It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how deep his need to be a part of the seeking, a part of my life, truly was. And here I’d been pushing him away because I thought it was all about him thinking I wasn’t capable.

  I hadn’t realized I’d hesitated until he quickly added, “Let me help. Let me be useful, please.”

  Sighing, I stroked one side of his clean-shaven face. “You are more than useful. You are necessary. But your work is important too, so I don’t want you to shove it aside for me.”

  One hand went up, thumb tucked in like a scout, while the other went to his chest. “I will not. Cross my heart.”

  The temptation to rise up on my toes and kiss his pouty lips was almost too much. But I wasn’t quite ready to let go of my indignation just yet. “We are listening to blues the whole time, and I will likely be singing at the top of my lungs.”

  “These terms are agreeable. You have a great voice, after all.”

  Rolling my eyes, I made my way to the driver’s side and got in. By the time I got my seat belt on, he was settling into the passenger seat and Gripp had perched on the back seat. Despite my fierce need for independence, I couldn’t lie to myself. I was glad they were both coming along.

  Though it was only around ten hours from our home in northern Montana to the place in Wyoming Yazhi had told me the Yee Naaldlooshii lived, we decided to stop halfway and camp. Being completely beat due to driving from Washington to Montana earlier in the day, I didn’t have it in me to keep going. Apparently werewolf constitution could only help so much.

  Ty directed me to a place to camp in the Custer Gallatin National Forest just north of the Wyoming border. It meant a slight detour from the highway, but I was happy for it. The Jeep needed to get her tires dirty as much as I needed to stop hearing the endless drone of rubber on asphalt. Gravel turned to dirt, which eventually turned into overgrown two track hedged in by encroaching trees threatening to reclaim the uneven, often rutted-out road.

  “That is what I have been longing to see,” Ty said.

  The contentment on his face—all relaxed and without stress lines—warmed me better than a shot of Fireball. “What?”

  “That carefree smile.”

  Said smile grew wider. “Well, there’s no road like a Jeep road. And it has been way too long since I’ve been on one for fun rather than to hunt a newly bitten,” I said.

  “So we are going to have fun?” he asked with a crooked smile of his own.

  I shifted into 4Lo and turned up what looked like a wide game trail hill. “Oh yeah,” I promised.

  After an hour of climbing around, a lot of bouncing, and even more laughing, we finally found a suitable camping spot deep in the forest. Dusk cast the long shadows of pine trees across the small meadow we’d chosen by the time we got our tent up. While Ty gathered wood, I gathered the largest rocks I could find and arranged them around a bare spot of dirt that would serve as our firepit for the night. I put them just so, leaving an alcove where coals would build up with two rocks turned at just the right angles to span a small cooking grate over—the way Dad had taught me.

  Soon we had a roaring fire going, coals gathered, and dinner cooking. As the orange and pink hues of sunset painted the sky above the treetops, Ty and I sat in the tiny hiking chairs I kept in the Jeep, drank our Pacific Northwest microbrewery beers, and ate. Listening to him chat about how, unbeknownst to the world, shifters had helped shape the outcome of World War II, I found the weight of the world easing from my shoulders. It would come crushing back down, I had no doubt of that. But for now, at least, I could breathe and almost think everything might turn out okay.

  The shadows stretched out and became darkness. Ty soon fell silent, and we sat and listened to the bats as they came out to hunt. I grinned up at their little shapes as they darted about the night canopy, enjoying the sounds they made. It made me think of synergy, of the balance of life. Gripp chattered in his odd bird speak, not mimicking them so much as warning them from the sounds of it. They steered well clear of him.

  “You like bats,” Ty observed.

  “I do. Dad used to take me hiking to this huge bat cave. He taught me how important they are for pollination, especially of things that only bloom at night. I loved the idea of that,” I said.

  He lifted my hand and kissed the back of it. The tender act struck me fast and deep in a way I hadn’t expected. Heat raced from where his lips had branded me, on a fast track straight to my inner labia. While the would-have-been psychologist in me knew it was because of a fascination with old-fashioned gentlemen, the woman in me just straight up melted. I set my half-empty beer down on a rock and stood.

  One of Ty’s brows rose as I grabbed his hand and tugged him to his feet. “Where are we going?”

  I cast a look at the camping chair. “Somewhere more…sturdy.”

  A few feet away, I found a downed log that I pushed him onto and then promptly straddled him. When I settled on his lap, I felt the wonderful pressure of his arousal against the heat of my sex. The feel of him, so ready, pulled a moan from me that his hungry lips swallowed as they met mine.

  A weird sort of gurgling croak came from the branches above us. It repeated twice more. It was a sound I was becoming accustomed to—Gripp. Breaking our kiss, I glared up into the tree.

  “Seriously? Are you mocking us or egging us on? Privacy, Gripp,” I said.

  Laughter rumbled from Ty. “Does it matter?”

  I shrugged. The way he licked his lips in anticipation drew me back in.

  His arms wrapped around me, finding their way up under my hair so he could cup the back of my head. Such gentleness made me growl. I didn’t want gentle. I wanted hard and fast. I didn’t want to be treated like a fragile doll. Weaving my fingers into his own hair, I tugged a little as I thrust my tongue farther into his mouth. His grip on me tightened, and he groan-growled into my mouth. The sexy sound made me grind my pelvis against his erection.

  Our frenzied kiss became almost desperate. He groped me heavily as he worked his hands down my body to the hem of my shirt. Not about to be outdone, I shifted my attention to the buttons of his shirt. Damn, of all days, why did he have to wear a fancy shirt today? I’d only gotten three buttons undone by the time he was pulling my T-shirt up over my head. Before he could get to my bra, I took the sides of his shirt in my hands and tore it open. Buttons flew off into the night.

  “Hey, I liked that shirt,” he said, laughter lacing his voice.

  I nipped at his lower lip before giving him a smile. “I’ll buy you new buttons and sew them on myself.”

  “Really? You sew?” He didn’t sound judgy, just surprised.

  “I do, pretty good even.” Having a mother who was constantly in and out of rehab during my teen years meant a very limited amount of new school clothes. I’d quickly learned to sew so I could make things last longer, take hems out, and even created a few of my own clothes from material—which used to be cheaper than buying new clothes.

  Ty stroked the side of my face. “You went a bit dark there for a moment. Are you all right?”

  Turning my head, I captured one of the fingers in my mouth and sucked. He gasped and let out a curse in Icelandic. I grabbed his hand and started to move it down my body. “Let me show you where you can put that.”

  Despite the material of our shorts between us, I felt his cock jump in response.

  The feel of his damp fingers trailing over my stomach made me bite my lip against a moan. His heart stuttered as if the thought of going down my pants was more than he could handle.

  No. It didn’t stutter. I heard another heartbeat belonging to a large creature. It sounded far away, but it was approaching.

  I pulled back from him and turned to look into the darkness of the forest. My wolf eyes took over the moment I thought of needing them, using the dim light in a way that enhanced everything. As I leaned back from Ty, something small flew between us. There was no way it had been Gripp—it was too small, hummingbird sized if anything. Not to mention, it didn’t crash into either of us in a graceless heap. So definitely not Gripp.

  “What the—”

  Grabbing my arm, Ty pulled me down onto his chest. “Get down!” he whispered harshly.

  He rolled us off the log, ending up on top of me. My gaze focused in on feathers sticking out of a dead branch that thrust up from the log—a branch that hadn’t been far from my head. The feathers adorned the end of a short black dart.

  Closing my eyes, I focused on my hearing. I heard not just one additional heartbeat, but four. “There are four of them. Two near the Jeep, one by the big oak ahead of us and to the left, another ahead and to the right.” It dawned on me that if we were going to continue getting attacked, maybe I needed to learn the whole clock location thing military people used.

  “Stay down,” he whispered.

  Oh no, he did not…

  I might not be the best fighter, but I wasn’t helpless. Reaching out with my power, I searched for the pressure front that would bring a storm to me. Clear skies and mild weather made it impossible to find. I searched farther, trying to pull it to me like a magnet. Far off in the distance, miles away at least, I finally felt what I needed. But at that distance, I had no idea how long it would take to reach me.

  Fast enough to practically break the sound barrier, Ty leaped off me and darted into the darkness. Part stubbornness and part concern for him made me spring up into a crouch, claws extended. Following commands was not—nor would ever be—my thing. With a low growl that I hoped sounded menacing, I stalked out around the log, doing my best to keep trees between myself and the heartbeats that didn’t belong to Ty. A resounding “thunk” in the tree beside my shoulder made me flinch. Another feathered dart stuck deep into the bark. I ducked and spun in the direction it had come from. Cronking like a harbinger of death, Gripp dove from the tree and attacked the dart.

  Skin smacked hard against skin. Someone that wasn’t Ty cried out in pain. A canine yelp split the night. It definitely wasn’t Ty either. That didn’t comfort me. He was still in danger. Next to my Jeep, Ty fought in a blur of limbs with two canine shapes. They moved too fast for me to tell what they were, but it didn’t matter. They were a threat. In my peripheral, I saw a waist-high shape shoot out of the underbrush toward me not more than ten feet away. Dammit, I’d gotten distracted!

  I dodged. Claws raked the air inches from where my abdomen had been a millisecond before. The scent of fox filled my nose.

  “Really?” The angry word came out more of a growl than anything else.

  The fox jumped for me. Rolling onto my back, I grabbed hold of it, planted my feet on its stomach, and kicked out. It went flying. A loud thump and yelp told me it met with something solid. I popped back up to my feet and spun to face the downed fox. All that training with Ty was paying off at least a little.