Guardian's Mate

The fragrance of brimstone bothered Zander most of all. The back part of his brain sifted through confusion—that particular scent and cold combination meant someone had opened a gateway to Faerie, which meant this camp was on a ley line.

But the ferals were Shifters. And the humans were human, not half Fae, not half anything. Zander would have smelled that—Tiger would have known it instantly.

Why the hell would Shifters be popping in and out of Faerie? No wonder Carson hadn’t been able to track the ferals back when they’d attacked him and his wife. No wonder the Idaho Shiftertown leader and his trackers hadn’t found them either. The ferals hadn’t gone to ground; they’d gone to another world. Why? And why had they come back to hole up here?

Questions to ponder later. The main issue at hand was how were Zander and friends going to survive?

The ferals attacked, roaring their triumph. Carson took a few down with his tranq gun and also his pistol, but he would run out of ammunition soon. Mason and Broderick turned and fought hard alongside Zander but their Collars were shocking them, which would wear them down sooner or later. Then there was Rae, vulnerable, with the Sword of the Guardian to protect.

Zander, Eoin, and Dylan had been stupid and arrogant to come up here, sure they could take down a small nest of ferals and their new human friends without much effort. They were paying for that arrogance now—this would be a battle to the death, a bloodbath.

As Zander clawed, pummeled, bit, fought, one thought was foremost in his brain. Get Rae to safety. Protect the mate.

Rae snarled as two ferals came at her. She took one step back, burst into her half-beast form, and went at them with the samurai sword.

Damn, she was sexy. Her lithe body dodged and moved as she fought with athleticism. She made a fine warrior—Zander’s samurai friend would be proud. He noted with interest that Rae’s half-wolf form handled the sword better than did her human body, a split second before he barreled into the ferals she fought and tore them away from her.

Rae glared at him with wolf-sharp eyes. “What the hell? I had them!”

She didn’t have the Shifter who leapt at her now, a leopard with a too-crazed look in his eyes. Zander sent him flying with one swat of his paw, and Broderick ripped into him, Broderick’s Collar sparking.

Zander took the moment of relative calm to shift to human, his skin covered with blood, scratches, and bite marks. One of his braids had come unraveled, the beads in it scattered on the ground. “Get back to the shore!” he shouted at his squad. “Protect the Guardian. They can’t get the sword.”

“It’s broken,” Rae yelled. “What does it matter?”

Zander rounded on her, the snarl in his throat holding near-feral fierceness. “Get the hell down to the beach, Little Wolf. I’m not losing you. Carson, take her.”

Carson didn’t want to. He wanted to kill feral Shifters. Zander saw in his eyes his terrible need for vengeance, to gut those who’d hurt his wife. He couldn’t save Vivian, but he could kill those responsible. That was all he’d lived for these past two years.

Zander faced him. “Don’t let what happened to Viv happen to Rae. Please.”

Carson’s fury matched Zander’s. His face was dark with anger, his eyes fiery. The savage instinct that lurked inside humans as well as Shifters gripped him hard.

Zander said nothing more, only pinned Carson with a stare. They only had a few seconds before Zander would have to simply pick up Rae and Carson both and run down the hill with them.

Carson hated Zander at that moment, Zander saw in his eyes. Carson didn’t want to make a choice. He wanted to fight until all the Shifters were dead and then go back to grieving.

Carson glanced at Rae, who hadn’t said a word. She’d shifted to human as well, her clothes torn from the change to her half beast, and waited. She understood exactly what Zander was doing.

Carson’s jaw clenched. He threw Zander a look of killing rage but turned away, slung the tranq rifle over his shoulder, and said, “Come on, Rae.”

Zander’s relief was short-lived. Broderick and Mason were backing toward him, fighting for their lives against at least a dozen ferals. Zander shifted back to bear to help them. He roared at Carson, who grabbed Rae’s hand and ran with her toward the path that led down to the shore.

There was nothing to do but retreat. The crazed thing inside Zander wanted to dive into the middle of the ferals and not stop until all were dead at his feet. The tiny spark of sanity he had left told him it would be a last stand. He’d go down swinging, but he’d go down. If he did, he’d be no help to Rae, to Shifters who were hurt in this battle, to anyone.

Zander slashed and ripped, then turned and ran, herding Mason and Broderick before him.

Carson had Rae halfway down the trail. Feral Shifters surged to either side of them, the faster Felines sprinting ahead to cut them off. Carson and Rae were forced to veer straight into the woods along rocky cliffs and keep running.

Too many were coming. Zander waited until Mason and Broderick had caught up to Carson and Rae, then he turned to face the ferals, planted his feet, and roared—the giant, earth-shaking roar of the polar bear.

The front line of Shifters hesitated. They were a motley bunch, wolves and Felines with ragged coats, hatred in their eyes, claws ragged, gums black with disease. Yet they were fighting together, organized, popping in and out of Faerie like they owned the place.

They looked at Zander, Zander looked at them, and then the ferals attacked.

I tried, Rae, was Zander’s last coherent thought before a dozen feral Shifters were on him.

* * *

Rae heard Zander roaring. She broke from Carson and started back up the hill, roots and rocks clutching at her boots.

Carson was right behind her, hand closing on her arm. “What the hell are you doing?”

Rae shook him off. Broderick and Mason cut in front of her, blocking her way up the hill.

“We’ll go back and help him,” Broderick said, breathless. “Zander’s strong and the Guardian’s sword needs to be protected. Go!”

“Fuck the sword!” Rae snarled. “The stupid sword is not more important than Zander. Than any Shifter.” She unslung the Sword of the Guardian from her back and dropped it to the ground. “Take it. I don’t want it anymore.”

She pushed around them and sprinted up the hill, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. Behind her she heard Broderick growl. “I’m not touching that bloody thing.”