Grif (Tales of the Were - Redstone Clan) (8 page)

“Get inside, Lindsey.” He put one hand around her waist, guiding her toward the back door of the house while he scanned the woods and tried to reacquire the scent.

“What?”

He couldn’t resist. He looked down at her and damn him if he wasn’t tempted to take her back down to the ground and fuck her like there was no tomorrow. But he couldn’t.

If he gave into temptation, the predator he believed was out there might catch them unawares and then there really would be no tomorrow. She’d be dead. He’d be dead. No more passion. No more pleasure. No more anything.

He leaned down and kissed her. Just a quick kiss to try to wipe some of the hurt off her face.

“I’m sorry, kitten,” he whispered. He couldn’t explain the danger he sensed on the wind. She would never understand his instincts or why he trusted them so greatly. Hell, he didn’t even understand why he was reacting so violently to such a small hint of threat.

Still… something was telling him to take this seriously and he’d learned over the years to trust that sixth sense gifted to him by the cougar that shared his soul. It might not make sense now, but in time, he’d bet understanding would come, as it had in the past.

“But—”

Bless her, she wanted to argue. Grif picked her up bodily, knowing she wasn’t about to move to safety under her own steam. She didn’t understand the imperative that was riding him. The
knowing
. Danger was out there, stalking them and he had to keep her safe.

He walked briskly through the backyard and up to the back door, pausing only briefly to open it with the hand that was under her legs. He bustled her through the door, depositing her on her feet just inside the small kitchen.

“What was all that about?”

Grif thought fast. He had to come up with some kind of explanation for what, to her, must seem like utterly bizarre behavior. Telling her the truth was out. What else could he say that might sound plausible?

“I’m sorry, Lindsey.” He ran one hand through his hair in frustration. “This is happening too fast.” It wasn’t. He’d wanted to jump her bones from the moment he first caught sight of her—but maybe she’d buy it. “There have been some things happening in my life lately that make me want to take things slow. It’s been a rough couple of months.” That was closer to the truth. Life had been shit for months. The only bright spot had been Lindsey and his undeniable attraction to her.

Before meeting Lindsey, Grif was almost afraid his dick didn’t work anymore. It hadn’t been interested in a female in far too long, which wasn’t exactly normal for an Alpha male in the prime of his life. He would’ve worried—if he’d had time to worry about himself during all the upheavals of the past few months.

Lindsey eyed him suspiciously, but she seemed to be willing to listen to his lame excuses.

“After the tragedy of losing my sister... And then my mom’s murder... And poor Belinda. I’m sorry. I worry about any female that gets mixed up with me.” Now that was true. Truer than he liked to admit.

Lindsey seemed to cave. She stepped close and put her arms around his middle, giving him a squeeze. His arms went around her out of reflex, and he basked in the hug of affection and sympathy she gave him.

“It’s okay. I think I understand.” She drew away and he had to fight to let her go.

She patted his chest in a comforting way before leaving his embrace completely. Her smile was still a touch confused, but he read acceptance of his ridiculous excuse in her stance. She was letting him go.

It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done in his life, walking away from her. Forget that.
He
was hard. And wanting. Desperate for her. But the cougar in his soul needed to protect and defend. It needed to stalk the stalker and discover what was waiting out in the darkness of the forest…watching.

Until the cougar’s curiosity was satisfied, the man couldn’t get satisfaction either. Grif sighed and left with a few last words of farewell. He had his phone out even before he heard her lock the door behind him. He needed help to keep his woman safe, and he knew just who to call to get it. Not the local wolves. No, this was a job for family.

“Steve, I’m glad I got you,” Grif said into his phone as the call was picked up on the other end. “I need some help out here in Wyoming. It may be nothing, but I could swear I’ve caught the faint scent of Jackie’s killer in the wind. It’s happened more than once.”

“I’m on my way,” his brother, Steve, replied without hestation. “How much backup do you need?”

“Let’s keep this informal for now. Who else can you spare to come out here?” All four of Grif’s younger brothers were supposed to be running different aspects of the family business and Clan while Grif was away, but he wasn’t really clear on just who was doing what. He’d just trusted them to get the job done.

“I’ll ask Matt. Bob’s going to have to take on my work. Matt just finished the Wallace Towers job. As for Mag,” Steve sighed. “He’s been more away than here lately.”

“All right. You and Matt. As soon as you can.”

“We’ll be on the next possible flight. Meanwhile, watch your back, bro. Timmons is dangerous. Just hang tight until we get there.”

“I know, Steve.” Grif shook his head. “It might be nothing…”

“But it might not.” Steve’s voice was very firm over the satellite connection. “Don’t take chances.”

“Hey, I called you, didn’t I?” Grif tried to inject a little humor into a situation that could very well be prove to be deadly.

Timmons had killed their sister. He’d evaded the best trackers Grif could hire for months now. He was both skilled and treacherous—a very bad combination.

“I’m glad you called. We’ll be there shortly.” Steve’s voice was solid and reassuring.

Of all the brothers, Grif and Steve were probably closest, not only in age, but in temperament and experience. They’d both served in Army Special Forces and had trained in ways, and with weapons, the other brothers had not. All in all, Grif was relieved that both Steve and Matt, their youngest brother, were on their way.

Once out of sight of Lindsey’s house, Grif loped into the woods, on the trail of the elusive scent, but it was lost. Could he have imagined it? Was he losing his mind? This was not the first time he thought he had scented Bill Timmons’ unique brand of evil, but every time he searched for the trail, the scent soon disappeared. It was entirely possible he was imagining things. He hated to think what that could mean to his sanity.

One thing was sure, he definitely needed backup. If he was losing it, someone would need to look after Belinda. If he wasn’t losing it and Timmons really was somewhere nearby, he would need help protecting the women. Not only did he have to take care of his little sister, but now Lindsey, regardless of her humanity, was under his protection as well. He refused to let either one of them down.

Steeling his resolve, he headed for the cabin at a lope. His brothers were already on their way. As far as he was concerned after this last scare, the sooner his brothers got here, the better.

Chapter Five

 

When the cougar reappeared the next night as Lindsey was finishing up the sweat lodge in the backyard, she took it as a good sign.

“Welcome back, Spirit Guide,” she said aloud to the cat. “I’ve decided that’s what you must be. It’s as good an explanation as any, I guess.”

The cat just sat, watching her for a moment, and if she had to name the expression on his face, she’d call it amusement. But perhaps that was just her imagination. Cats were pretty inscrutable. Even the big ones.

He started to move around the ceremonial building she’d put together out of tree limbs and other greenery, as if inspecting her craftsmanship. She watched as he moved around the perimeter, sniffing here and there, then moving back to look at the whole.

“Grandpa told me how to do this, but except for that one time, I never saw it in person.” She stood back from her somewhat lopsided creation. “How does it look?”

The mountain lion made a noise low in his throat that she had no way of interpreting.

“I’ll take that as approval.” She smiled and crawled inside the small structure, dragging some of the extra provisions she thought she might need later. Clean towels in a closed basket, jugs of water and fire-starting tools all went in and she took a moment to set things up to her liking.

She shouldn’t have been surprised when the cat followed her inside, taking up a position across the ring of stones she’d made for the fire she would start later and just watching her.

“I’m getting this ready for tonight. Grandpa gave me very specific instructions. Tonight is the full moon. I’m going to start this fire at sundown and begin the ceremony he taught me before he died.” She sat back on her haunches and surveyed the small environment she’d created. “It’s been a long time coming, but maybe after tonight, if I do this right, he can finally be at peace.”

A silent tear rolled down her cheek, but she brushed it away, smiling.

“No time for the sentimental stuff now.” She worked her way out of the small building. “I’ve got to get ready. And hope those werewolves leave me be long enough to get through this.”

 

Grif followed her out of the small building, puzzled but willing to see where her actions might lead. He knew he’d bought her some time from the Alpha of the wolf Pack, so she’d probably have the time tonight to complete whatever odd ritual her shaman grandfather had committed her to do. But he knew he had to be there, watching over her. If she got into any kind of trouble, he would be there to drag her out of it.

Maybe he was her Spirit Guide, in an odd sort of way, he considered. He was watching over her in his fur. She was a small human woman, way out here alone, and attempting a purification ceremony that could be dangerous to large, healthy men. She needed someone to watch over her.

And he’d appointed himself her guardian. He’d come back tonight and sit with her, making sure she took care with her health. But he had some things to do first back at the cabin, namely getting Belinda to agree not to go anywhere tonight. She was roaming alone more and more and he didn’t like it. She was too little and there were predators out there who didn’t care if she was
were
or just a regular little cat. He didn’t want to lose her too. So he’d tie her down if he had to, or at worst, he’d see if the local wolf Pack would let her run with them tonight.

The moon was full tonight, so they’d all be running. Maybe there were some werewolf cubs who wouldn’t mind a werecat in their midst too much. She’d enjoy the challenge and she could always sprint up a tree if they got too rough with her.

That thought in mind, Grif left Lindsey and headed at some speed for the cabin. He had a lot to do before sunset, when he would return to watch over the little human woman who meant far too much to him.

 

At sunset, Lindsey entered the small sweat lodge she’d managed to construct. She was dressed ceremonially, in beaded buckskin that she’d made herself. The outfit had layers so that as the heat started to build in the small building, she could take off the shirt and long, split skirt that kept her warm and still be somewhat covered in a soft leather bikini-type outfit. It wasn’t very traditional, but it was functional and her grandfather said it didn’t so much matter what style she wore, so much as that it was hand made, by her own hand, of natural materials.

So she’d arrived at this rather unorthodox, but highly functional attire. Besides, no one would see her. Only the Great Spirit and It didn’t care what you wore, or so her grandfather had told her. It only cared what was in your heart.

She shouldn’t have been surprised, she thought later, when she entered the dim building to find the mountain lion already there, waiting for her. He sat stoically, across the ring that would hold the fire, staring at her in that very solemn way he had about him. His eyes were a gorgeous, bright golden light that tracked her movements. She’d never realized how a cougar’s eyes glowed before, and it was almost mesmerizing.

“Good evening, my friend. Have you come to keep me company on my vision quest?” She sat across the fire pit and started working to get the blaze going. It was easy enough, since she’d preset everything earlier in the day. All she needed to do was light it up and wait until it caught, heating everything in the small building.

The cat didn’t shy away from the fire. He just sat there, silently, watching all. The thought crossed her mind again that this cat was unlike any cat she’d ever seen, but that only confirmed in her mind that he was sent to be her Spirit Guide. He was a mystical cat, that was for sure, but she felt no threat from him. He was there to protect her, as he’d already proved, and she felt safe in his presence.

She began the ceremony, as her grandfather had taught her. It wasn’t anything like the ceremonies she had witnessed as a child when she’d visited her grandfather and attended tribal gatherings. No, this was completely unique. A shaman’s secret, passed down in her grandfather’s lineage, now to her. She was the last of the line. The last one left who might possibly have the power to restore the balance her grandfather had unknowingly disturbed.

He hadn’t been able to tell her what the outcome of the ceremony might be. He only knew, if she had the power, and the Great Spirit favored her, the wrong would be righted and the balance would be restored. Exactly how that would happen remained a mystery.

She was willing to risk whatever the Great Spirit might demand of her if it meant completing this work, entrusted to her by her grandfather. He’d impressed upon her the fact that this work was bigger than herself. Bigger than just their lives. It was a monumental thing that needed her selfless act to repair.

She began thinking of the chant she would perform and started to feel the heat from the fire as it warmed the stones. Normally there would be a fire pit outside to heat the stones, but since she was doing this alone, she’d had to compromise on the design. There was a chimney of sorts in the roof of her hut and though it did let some of the heat escape along with the smoke, it allowed her to breathe fresh air. She’d also created an intricate design with rocks around and over the fire that she put into use now. She would add water to the stones, creating steam, without dousing the fire. She was sort of proud of the design she’d come up with and was happy when it worked just like she’d hoped.

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