Fred chuckled. “You’re too easy, Gracie.”

  “In that case, have fun shovelling shit and swallowing flies. I’m going to get an ice cream.” Grace turned on her heel and stalked out of the stables.

  She was glad their relationship had returned to the easy banter she remembered from her childhood. Even her mother had seemed to have changed now that she was on the mend—and staying in Targangil. All in all, her regular human-orientated life was going great. It was the supernatural one that was in tatters.

  Her father hadn’t spoken about what he’d seen the night of her accident, not since she’d gotten home from the hospital. Madden had lured him and her brother into the bush, and in turn, lured her into following them…all to become bait in his revenge against Lawson.

  Fred and Brad had definitely seen a black panther attacking one of the cows in the darkness, but she’d convinced them they’d been mistaken. At least she believed she had. It didn’t matter, anyway. There wouldn’t be any more big cat sightings in the Kosciuszko National Park. Ever. Full stop. Please don’t come again.

  It was best she never brought it up, so they didn’t talk about that night. At all.

  Outside, Grace lingered in the shade of the stable and smiled when she spotted the horses in the paddock.

  Kunama, the silver mare, caught sight of her and wandered towards the fence, her nostrils flaring.

  “Hey, girl,” Grace murmured, holding out her hand. “It’s been a while. Wanna go for a ride later?”

  The mare pressed her velvety nose into her palm, took one sniff, and reared her head, her eyes rolling.

  Grace jerked back from the fence, startled by the horse’s unusual reaction, and stared in confusion as Kunama trotted away, flicking her tail back and forth. She rejoined Fortune on the far side of the paddock and even seemed to nudge the other horses farther away.

  Despite the radiating heat, she shivered and glanced over her shoulder towards the stables. Her dad was still inside, busy with mucky hay and none the wiser.

  Lawson said he was bitten, like a full chomp on his shoulder, but Madden hadn’t done that to her. He’d pinned her with his claws.

  But what if…? She shook her head, dislodging the terrified voice in the back of her mind. It’d been almost six weeks since that night. If she was going to…you know…it would’ve already happened.

  She watched the horses across the paddock, her brow furrowing. Maybe she still carried some of the scent. Eau de Chat Noir, or whatever it was in French.

  Besides, Lawson was an arse for leaving like he did, but he’d never go if he knew there was a chance of her turning. Because if she was like him, then the evil Colonel Winslow would be on her case, too.

  “It’s not possible,” she said aloud, vowing to try with the horses tomorrow. “It’s just not.”

  Turning away, Grace went back to the Jimny and slid behind the wheel. Flipping down the visor, she caught her reflection in the tiny mirror and scowled.

  She looked exactly the same as always.

  CHAPTER 4

  Brad’s ute smelled like something had curled up and died under the front seats.

  Grace sat in the passenger seat and wrinkled her nose, her brother none the wiser to his need for one of those dangly, pine-scented air freshener trees. Maybe she should get him one next time she was in town.

  “You’re really gunna love the hotel,” he was saying. “Marnie’s done a real good job bringing it up to snuff. They even got another star added.”

  “I don’t think there’s a hotel star rating board,” Grace said. “It’s probably not like getting a Michelin star.”

  “Yes, there is,” he argued. “The Tourism Board sends out inspectors and everything. That’s government, you know.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Bloody oath! If there wasn’t, anyone could say they’re five stars and get away with it. Do you want to stay in a three-star hotel with a stained mattress pretending they’re posh?”

  “I guess you’re right,” she said with a chuckle.

  Ahead, a large parking lot opened to one side, and the road split into two lanes that fed through several toll booths. There was a fee to get into the national park, but since Brad was on the payroll, he had a permanent pass stuck in the windscreen of his ute.

  He pulled up at the booth and waved at the woman inside. She wore the same beige uniform of NSW Parks that her father did, and when she saw Brad, she smiled.

  “G’day Sue,” he called. “Busy today?”

  “Yeah. Had quite a few cars in this morning,” she replied, leaning down to see who else was in the car.

  “That’s my sister, Grace,” he told her. “We’re headed up to Perisher for lunch.”

  Grace waved. “Hi.”

  Sue smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Any closures today?” Brad leaned his arm on the rolled-down window. “We were thinking about heading up to Charlotte’s Pass or maybe hike the Porcupine later on.”

  “No closures, though a busload headed up to the Pass just before. And the bushfire risk was increased this morning.”

  “So, the usual?”

  Her smile widened. “The usual.”

  “All right. I’ll probably see you on the way back down.”

  “Enjoy.”

  As they drove away, Grace raised her eyebrows. “Does Marnie know you flirt with every woman you see?”

  “I wasn’t flirting.”

  “Then what do you call it?”

  “I’m not supposed to use my pass when I’m not working,” he said, swatting her. “Being nice gets me free entry.”

  “Sure, Romeo.” She laughed and shook her head, turning her attention to the bush on either side of the road.

  “Damn, it’s dry out there.”

  Grace nodded, her gaze sliding over the thick undergrowth and leaf litter coating the rugged ground. It clung around the base of boulders and trees, creating a seven-thousand-square-kilometre tinderbox.

  “Didn’t Dad say he was working on clearing?” she wondered.

  “Only ‘cos the fire service has their hands full with other stuff. They’re just maintaining the campgrounds, because there ain’t enough hands for all of that.” He gestured to the sweeping peaks rising on either side of the road.

  She said nothing, thinking that people only had so much power over nature. It stirred up memories of Lawson and his struggle with his inner animal, because that’s what he had to become now. A memory. He wasn’t coming back, and she had to get to know Marnie and her extra star. Marnie, her sister-in-law. Marnie, her brother’s wife.

  She sighed and put him out of her mind. It was a forcible shove, because a month wasn’t nearly enough time to forget the guy with supernatural shapeshifting powers.

  “You good?” Brad asked, mistaking her depression as residual pain from her ‘accident.’

  “Yeah. It’s just… Your ute stinks.”

  He laughed and hit a button on his door. The passenger side window began sliding down. “Get some fresh mountain air in ya, then.”

  The white lines painted on the asphalt turned to bright yellow as they climbed higher, signs warning of ice and snow appearing at various intervals as the turns became sharper. They passed the large, and empty, four-lane pull-off where vehicles had to put snow chains on their tyres, and turned around another bend where the forest gave way to open sky.

  When people said alpine, it instantly brought forth images of jagged peaks covered in snow, ancient glaciers, ski chalets, and Switzerland. The Australian Alps were kind of trying to be like that, but not really. As with everything else in the country, the mountains were unique unto themselves.

  The peaks rolled lazily out of the landscape, rising in waves, covered in rounded granite boulders, coated with a thick layer of springy, emerald tussock grass and russet-coloured bracken. Once the tall eucalyptus forests that clung to the valleys gave way to the thinning atmosphere, the snow gums took over.

  When Grace spotted the first of the trees, she understood why Diana was so intent on saving them. Their trunks were twisted and snake-like, the bark taking on the appearance of a rich watercolour painting—all beige, cool grey, butter, and lavender. Stubby round leaves clung on for dear life as the unrelenting wind shaped their coiled and squat growth patterns.

  Then they turned another sweeping corner and arrived at Perisher.

  It’d been so long since Grace had been up this far, she’d forgotten how open it was to the sky, despite the ski lifts cutting into the slopes to the far right of the car.

  Large, open parking lots spread on either side of the road, and chalet-style buildings clumped together in a small, makeshift township. It felt rather like a ghost town in the blazing sun, but come winter, when this would be covered in brilliant snow, it’d be full of life. Annoying, can’t find a parking spot, thumping music, and swooshing skis, kind of life.

  There was no doubt Perisher was beautiful in the dead of winter, but Grace much preferred the serenity of summer…just not the hot part of it.

  Brad pulled off the main road and into the driveway of the Perisher Valley Lodge.

  Her gaze slid over the gold lettering on the sign. “I wonder why they called it Perisher?”

  “It’s some pretty wild country out here,” Brad said. “Back in the day, I guess it was tough going.”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  Australia was still a wide, open country with little human habitation in vast swathes of inland territories. The climate didn’t allow for much population growth too far from the coast, so she couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like when European settlers first came through here—hot, dry, unpredictable weather with fires and floods—but that was another can of worms entirely.

  “Here we are.” The hand break ratcheted on as Brad parked in a spot near the main entrance.

  As Grace got out, she looked up at the building and made an appreciative face. “Nice.”

  The Lodge was clad in slate grey stone with wooden eaves, giving it a Swiss chalet vibe. Behind the main building, the rest of the hotel spread out like a pair of eagle wings, and farther up the slope, she spotted several private chalets.

  Inside, it was just as fancy. The foyer was dominated by both a large reception and a gaping fireplace bigger than any she’d ever seen before. As it was a bazillion degrees outside, the hearth had been laid with decorative logs, and the mantle had already been decorated with a large Christmas wreath and garland made of gum leaves and native flowers—golden wattle and banksias. Totally worth that extra star.

  “Grace!” Marnie’s voice echoed through the foyer as she came towards them. She grinned as she spread her arms wide, her silk blouse glistening like water as she moved.

  Leaning in for the obligatory hug, Grace got a whiff of her expensive perfume and grimaced. She was never a girly girl, and after working in a male-heavy industry in the city, she’d never quite gotten the whole ‘kiss on the cheek’ thing—nor the attraction to fancy handbags or high heels.

  “I’m so glad you could make it,” Marnie went on. “Welcome to the Perisher Valley Lodge. We’ve got a table set aside for you in the restaurant.”

  “What? Don’t I get a hello?” Brad declared with a pout.

  “Of course, sweetie.” She kissed him on the lips and threaded her arm through his. “I’m going to have to apologise…”

  Her brother groaned. “You have to work?”

  “Apparently, there’s always a crisis. Today’s is with the linen delivery that decided to get lost somewhere between here and Jindabyne. I tell you, that truck better be dangling off a cliff someplace…”

  Grace shrugged. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure we can catch up another time.”

  “Yes!” Marnie practically jumped on the spot in excitement. “I wanted to talk to you about the wedding. How do you feel about purple?”

  She froze, her eyes widening like a frightened animal. “The colour?”

  Brad stepped away from his fiancée and grasped Grace’s shoulders, turning her towards the elevators. “There’s a table waiting for us, you said?”

  “Yes. They’re expecting you.” Marnie waved as they made a hasty exit towards the hallway.

  As they passed the elevators and entered the equally fancy restaurant, Grace said, “Did you just save me from bridesmaid duty?”

  “I know how you feel about dresses.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  They were seated at a quiet table by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the slopes. Ski lifts snaked ever upwards, looking strange without all the snow to accompany them.

  A waiter came by and gave them a pair of menus and rattled off something about wine, but Brad waved him away, asking for beer instead. He was such a bloke.

  Opening the menu, Grace paused over the steak selection, her stomach squirming. She usually went for chicken or salmon, because red meat was always so expensive, but…

  “Are you ready to order?” The waiter had returned.

  “Steak. The ten ounce,” she blurted. “Medium.”

  “And you, sir?”

  Brad shrugged. “I’ll have the same.”

  The waiter took their menus, slid them under his arm, and strode away.

  “That’s a huge chunk of steak,” Brad said, raising his eyebrows.

  “So? I’m hungry, and I’m not paying.”

  “Way to work the system.” He chuckled, amused at her bluntness. “You’ve always been a chicken nugget kind of person.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What can I say? I’m branching out.”

  “More like branching upwards.”

  “It’s a sliding scale of poshness.”

  They talked about work for a bit—about her first shift back at Brumbies, and the roadworks starting up on the Snowy Mountains highway to repair some of the damage from the recent rains. She noticed Brad’s gaze linger on the still pink and flaky gash every time she lifted her left arm.

  “Last year we did a stretch up near Yarrangobilly,” Brad was saying as their lunch was delivered. “We had so much trouble with the brumbies. They came in every night and knocked over the signage and shit all over the freshly laid asphalt. It was a nightmare. Horse turds everywhere.”

  “They probably didn’t like their peace disturbed,” she guessed.

  “Bold things for an introduced species.” His gaze lowered and she jerked her arm back against her stomach. “Uh, Gracie…”

  She blinked and attempted a smile. “Hmm?”

  “Are you all right? I mean…” He nodded at her arm.

  “Oh.” She blinked, the taste of meat thick on her tongue. “I’m fine. All healed. I just need a bit of moisturiser to smooth out the new skin. Sorbolene.”

  Brad narrowed his eyes.

  “What? You got a vendetta against sorbolene cream?”

  He shook his head and sighed. “Dad may have bought it, but I’m not so sure.”

  Grace’s hands tightened around her knife and fork. “Bought what?”

  “I know what I saw, and it wasn’t a shadow,” he hissed. “And I think you know it, too.”

  His accusation was true, but she still felt her anger rise hotter than she’d ever felt it before. Her spine tingled as if her imaginary hackles were rising and her jaw tightened.

  “What I know,” she said, her voice barely above a murmur, “is that you went out into the bush in the dark, waving a gun. You could’ve shot Dad. Dad could’ve shot you.”

  “Mum said you took Dad’s rifle. Told her and Marnie to stay in the house.”

  “I thought you arseholes were having a mental break! Ranting about black panthers? That’s a bloody joint hallucination if I ever saw one.”

  “You think I was hallucinating?” Brad scoffed and leaned back in his chair.

  “There isn’t any other explanation.”

  “What about old Henry Murdoch?”

  “Someone should really call the health department to investigate. Or better yet, get Parks onto it because someone’s illegally dumping some nasty chemicals in the bush.”

  His face had turned a deep shade of red as he stared at her. He had nothing to say to that, so maybe he was thinking twice about getting his nose stuck into the same dangerous business Lawson was trying to save her from. There was no way for him to know, but gaslighting him was the only tactic she could think of to throw him off the scent.

  “It’s strange…” he said after a tense moment, “that after you fell down that cliff face, Lawson was able to carry you out.”

  “It’s not strange,” she retorted. “He has training in those kinds of things. He’s ex-army.”

  “C’mon, Grace. He didn’t even come to see you in the hospital! He left without a word.”

  “He’s…” she hissed and rested the urge to stab her steak. “I’m sure he had his reasons.”

  “You’re defending him? Really?”

  “You’re the one who brought it up and ruined a perfectly good lunch.”

  “It was obvious there was something going on between you two,” he spat. “Then he not only goes and breaks your heart, but he let you go out in the wilderness, in the dark, with a bloody gun. Sound familiar? If he was still here, I’d shoot the bastard.”

  “He didn’t let me do anything. I was going, with or without him.”

  “You’re such a hypocrite.”

  “I really hate you right now.” The plates rattled as she threw down her cutlery.

  A tense silence opened between them.

  “You’re my little sister,” Brad finally said. “I’m always going to defend you.” He ran his hands over his face. “I just got you back, Gracie…”

  She fought back tears as his words sank in. He was right about all of it—about the panther, about Lawson, about… Brad couldn’t know about the shapeshifters. Things were bad enough, and if the secret spread even to one more person, there was no telling what would happen.

  Hell, there was a body buried somewhere in the mountains. A body with a bullet from her father’s gun.

  “Grace. I—”

  “I want to go home.”

  “But you haven’t finished—”

  “I said, I want to go home.”