“Stop!” Zander yelled.
He shoved Rae aside and dove for the rope, coming up with his hands full of long, cool reptile.
Rae shifted back down from half beast to her human form faster than Zander had seen anyone shift before. The big shirt she was sleeping in hadn’t even had a chance to tear. Her eyes were wide, pale gray, her black eyebrows streaks in all the white. “What the hell is that?” she cried.
Zander turned the snake around to face him, looking into its startled reptile eyes. “Hey, buddy, I’ve been looking for you. I bet you were sleeping in the bed, weren’t you?”
“Zander.”
Color flooded Rae’s face again, her cheeks brilliant scarlet. She was disheveled, hair coming out of her braid, her sweatshirt not too loose to cling to the soft curves of woman beneath.
Zander let his gaze drift over her a moment before he lifted the creature coiling around his arm. “It’s just Jake. Jake the Snake. He’s harmless.”
“He tried to get into bed with me!”
Zander didn’t blame him. “Jake likes to be warm. He’s not poisonous or anything.”
Rae waved her hands. “Why do you have a snake? On a boat?”
Zander shrugged. “He cuddled up to me one night a couple months ago when I was camping out. He didn’t want to leave me. I think he was someone’s pet that got lost or dumped. I give him the run of the place and he keeps the vermin under control.”
Rae planted both hands on top of her head, her black hair leaking around her fingers. “You couldn’t have warned me?”
“I thought I’d lost him when I was last in port. I guess he followed me back on board. Follows me everywhere.”
Rae’s hands now covered her face until they drifted down, revealing her red-rimmed, tear-dampened eyes. “Well, he can’t sleep with me.”
Zander carefully lowered Jake into the pocket of his duster. “No problem. He’ll sleep with me.”
Rae glared at him with her fists on her hips, a storm in her eyes. The shirt covered her to her thighs—below that her bare legs were firm and strong, her cute toes curling on the floor.
What the hell was the Shifters’ problem with her being a Guardian? If the last thing Zander saw in his life was the beautiful, fiery Rae coming to send him to the Summerland, that would be fine with him. What a way to go.
Zander didn’t like the spark in his blood as he watched her chest move in her agitated breath. He made himself turn from her. “Go to bed. Long day tomorrow.”
“It’s not that I’m afraid of snakes,” she said behind him. “I’m just not used to them in bed with me. Most of the ones we get near our Shiftertown are rattlers. I’ve learned to be cautious.”
“I understand, Little Wolf. Cautious is good.” Zander sent her a grin over his shoulder that brought her glare back. He loved that.
“Just go,” Rae said tightly.
Zander went out the door. As soon as he closed it, he heard Rae bang her way across the cabin and slap home the bolt, locking him out.
He laughed softly as he returned to the wheelhouse. As though a lock could keep out a snake. Or a polar bear. Sweet Little Wolf had a lot to learn.
* * *
Crash!
Rae peeled open her eyes as something slammed against the door of her bedroom. She jumped, then cursed as her head hit a low ceiling.
Where the hell was she? Rae looked around in panic, the only light coming from two minuscule windows at the top of the room. She saw polished wooden walls and ceiling, a bed that was wider at the foot than the head, and a sliding door that rattled as something else banged into it.
Memories zoomed back—the long ride in the speedboat, her dizziness climbing aboard the fishing vessel, her first dismayed glimpse of the Shifter called Zander. Eating sandwiches with him in the cramped cabin, his bulk somehow comforting, crawling into bed and leaping out again when a snake’s cold nose touched her arm.
Rae bunched the covers over her chest. What other creatures did Zander have hidden on this tub? Which one was turning over all the crap in the main cabin?
Clatter. Thunk. Thud!
Rae scrambled on hands and knees to the edge of the bed and carefully eased the door open a crack.
Zander’s black duster coat swung into her view, followed by a white braid strung with blue beads. He came up with an armful of stuff and dumped it into an open crate.
Rae shoved the door all the way back. “What are you doing?”
Zander looked up without surprise and dropped a couple pots and pans into the box with a loud clank. “Cleaning up. What’s it look like?”
“Right now?”
“It’s nine in the morning. Yesterday, you wanted me to clean up.”
“You’re not cleaning. You’re just dumping.”
Zander gave her a black stare. “You could get your lazy ass up and help. This isn’t a bed-and-breakfast.”
Rae yanked the door closed. She’d kept her clothes with her on the bed, along with the small duffel bag she’d hastily packed when Eoin announced they were leaving Shiftertown. She slid into a tank top and jeans, reached for her sweater from yesterday to pull on, then opened the door to climb off the bed and tug on her boots.
Zander had done a good job, she had to admit. The floor was clear all the way to the cabin door, the cabinets shut, the benches and stove empty. Zander dumped the last load into his crate and stowed it in the cupboard beneath the bed Rae had just been sleeping in.
The difference in the place was remarkable. The cabin, as she’d observed, had been clean, just messy. Now she could see gleaming, sealed wood, polished brass, the crisp black of the bench cushions, the flood of light through the open windows.
“Nice,” she said admiringly.
“Glad you like it. There’s food in the fridge. Fix breakfast and we’ll have it up on deck.”
Rae’s eyes widened. “Excuse me? You expect me to make breakfast for you?”
Zander swung back to her, his eyes holding irritation. “I told you, I’m not running a free hostel. I know you aren’t happy to be here, but I wasn’t asked if I was okay if they dumped you on me. We both have to suck it up. I cleaned up so you’d stop whining—now you can make me breakfast in return. I’m not your daddy, or even your sugar daddy. I’m your trainer. Got it?”
Rae raised her hands. “All right, all right. Got it.”
“Good.” Zander swung away and strode for the door. “Go light on the carbs.” He slammed himself out and was gone.
Rae listened to his boots clump on the deck above, then she heaved a sigh.
He was right—they were both stuck with each other. She either had to make the best of it or jump overboard.
Although . . . Rae ran through an idea as she brought out eggs and a rasher of bacon, fished a frying pan out of a cupboard, and started cooking.
* * *
Zander, sitting cross-legged in the sunshine on the stern deck, downed the mess of eggs and bacon, seasoned with spices he’d had in his cupboard, and drank the coffee Rae had made. The coffee was seriously good, as was the breakfast, but he decided not to tell Rae that. She needed to be a little edgy. Training to be a Guardian wasn’t going to be easy on her—hell, it wasn’t going to be easy on him.
“Zander, I was thinking.”
Rae’s tone caught his attention. Zander dropped his fork to his empty plate, set the plate on the deck, and picked up the coffee. Fresh wind blew across the stern to set the wisps of hair around Rae’s face dancing, and sun glared off the water. The clouds that had gathered last night had ended in a squall way off to the southeast, while Zander’s boat remained in the clear.
Rae sat on the deck, her back to the wall of the pilot house. Her eyes in shadow became the darkest gray, like the sea in a storm. She had a lithe but strong body—he bet she was a formidable wolf.
“Thinking is dangerous,” Zander answered when she didn’t go on.
Rae flicked her eyes to his. No submission there. In spite of having been orphaned and
abandoned then raised by Felines, Rae was not afraid to pin him with her gaze. She should be—Zander was pretty high in dominance. He’d guess she was an alpha, born of alphas, even if she didn’t know it.
“You don’t actually have to train me, you know,” Rae was saying. “You can drop me off somewhere and I can . . . I don’t know. Find an apartment. Get a job. Hide my Collar. Live. Who has to know?”
Zander rested his elbows on his knees. He caught the sharpness in her voice, the restlessness, the anger. The same kinds of emotions had flowed through him all his life.
While he agreed with her, he shook his head. “It’s not that easy. Anyone looking at you is going to figure out you’re Shifter. I’ve never worn a Collar but it makes no difference. You told me I scream Shifter, and so do you. My neighbors have always been cool and didn’t turn me in. Alaskans are laid-back. They have enough to deal with fighting the weather to worry about much else.”
“So, they’ll be cool with me too, then,” Rae said. She peered at Zander closely. “You don’t want to train me. I don’t want to be here. Why do we have to do what all the Shifters want? They’d be happy if I disappeared. I didn’t ask to be a Guardian. You didn’t ask to be a healer. I say screw it and let’s just live our lives.” She finished, her body tight, her chest rising swiftly.
Zander ran his thumb around the bottom of his coffee cup. One of his braids brushed his wrist, the beads cool. “Let me ask you something, Little Wolf. If you came across a Shifter lying dead, or dying, too far gone to be saved, would you step over him and leave him there? Pull out your cell phone and call someone else to deal with it? Let him wait in pain and fear until another Guardian comes—if one ever does? It’s not death Shifters fear; it’s their souls lingering in this world for the Fae to steal. I heard what happened to your Guardian—Daragh? Wasn’t that his name? Heard the whole story from Broderick down in Austin. When Daragh died, there was no new Guardian to dust him right away and the Fae snatched him quick as anything. Knowing shit like that, would you walk away from a dying Shifter? Tell him sorry, you didn’t want to be Chosen?”
Rae’s eyes flashed. “Don’t talk about Daragh.”
The sudden flare was interesting. So she’d had a jones for the old Guardian, had she? Huh. And then Daragh had gotten himself murdered. Zander’s heart squeezed in sympathy. Poor Little Wolf.
“Maybe we should talk about Daragh,” he said. “Sounds like you knew him pretty well. Would he want you to walk away? Get a job in Anchorage, hide the sword, forget about it?”
Rae deflated a notch but remained defiant. “Probably not.”
Zander turned the coffee cup in his hands. “When I figured out I was a healer, I didn’t want to be one. I wanted to hide out, to tell people to leave me the hell alone. But it got slammed into me that I couldn’t walk away from a Shifter who needed me. Could I really let a woman die bringing in her cubs and leave them motherless? No, I couldn’t. I had to heal her and deal with the pain that comes from working my gift. Like I said, we both have to suck it up.”
Rae made a show of looking around at the empty water. “You are hiding out and telling people to leave you the hell alone.”
Zander shook his head. “Appearances are deceiving. Shifters can reach me if they really need me. But I learned that I’m not a bottomless pit. I get totally drained and have to recharge or I’m no good to anybody. A Shifter has to seriously need me and make the effort to track me down. If I didn’t make it difficult, I’d be healing every paper cut until I was too drained to help a Shifter who truly needed saving. I give my gift freely but I have to protect it as well.”
She listened closely, leaning toward him a little bit. “You mean, you pick and choose who you heal?”
“No.” The word was sharp. “I didn’t say that. I mean they really have to be desperate. Desperate enough to figure out how to find me. There are other Shifters with lesser healing abilities who can help, and Shifters heal up pretty good naturally. You know that. I’m what you’d call the last hope.”
More staring, a pucker between her brows. “My dad found you easily enough.”
“That’s because of Kendrick,” Zander said, suppressing a growl. “And Dylan. Kendrick’s a white tiger who leads a bunch of un-Collared Shifters down in Texas, and Dylan kind of runs South Texas. I owe them, so they feel free to call on me when they want me.”
Rae went silent as though digesting his words. Zander wished he knew what she was thinking, what thoughts were dancing behind her pretty face. But he wasn’t a telepath, wasn’t really an empath, wasn’t even that good at reading body language. Polar bears liked to be alone, so he hadn’t had much practice understanding other Shifters.
“You don’t need to train me to use the sword,” Rae said, returning to her previous argument. “How often do we get into sword fights these days? It’s not like we’re still battling the Fae or fighting in the Middle Ages.”
“You’d be surprised,” Zander said. “What you’ll be using the sword for mostly is sending Shifters to dust.”
“Exactly.” Her eyes sparkled in triumph. “The sword is perpetually sharp, I’m told. All I have to do is put the point over the Shifter’s heart and press down. Easy.”
Rae spoke with confidence but Zander saw the shudder run through her. She was terrified of that part of being Guardian and he fully understood that fear. Zander’s job was to heal—when he was successful, the Shifter lived to embrace his or her cubs another day. When Rae was successful, it would mean the Shifter was dead, gone to the Summerland.
Zander set his coffee cup on the deck beside him. “So tell me, Little Wolf. Where is a Shifter’s heart?”
Rae blinked, startled. “What?”
“Say I’m a dying Shifter and you need to find my heart. Where is it?”
Zander pulled his duster all the way open and leaned back, exposing the large plane of his chest. “If you miss, all you do is prolong the Shifter’s agony. He’s dying and you just shoved a big sword between his ribs.” He spread his arms. “Where is it, sweetheart? Come here and put your hand over my heart.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Shit, he was right.
Rae had never thought about it before. What happened if she drove the sword all the way through a Shifter and missed? He’d be pinned to the ground with a sword, bleeding, dying, in horrific pain, and it would be her fault.
Rae swallowed. She put aside her empty plate and scrambled to her feet.
Zander leaned back against the gunwale, his long legs in stained jeans crossed at the ankles. He had his arms spread, a thick black sweater stretching across his broad chest.
His dark eyes glittered like the translucent black stones called Apache tears that Eoin had told her was obsidian heated into glass. Those eyes held the look of a man who’d seen it all, experienced pain no one could understand. So much pain that he’d hidden in the middle of the cold Pacific, growling when anyone crossed into his territory.
Zander said nothing as Rae took a few staggering steps to him. His look wasn’t arrogant—although he was arrogant. He was waiting to see what she’d do.
Rae absently wiped her hand on her jeans, fearing to smear bacon grease on him. She halted, her foot an inch from his thigh.
Rae didn’t have to lean far to him. She moved her hand toward his chest, saw it shaking, and tried to make it stop.
Didn’t work. Whether he noticed her trembling or not, Zander’s gaze never left her face. Rae gingerly rested her palm on his chest, on the rough wool of his black sweater.
The warmth of him came through the fabric, heating her like a furnace. How a man living in this open, unending cold space could have so much heat in him she didn’t know. She felt his breath moving his chest, a vibrancy that sparked through her and made her heart pump.
Rae drew a breath and spread her fingers, pressing her hand more surely to his sweater. The solidness of him threatened to rob her of the breath she’d just sucked in. Zander’s chest rose sharply, his warmth increasing.
r /> Rae made herself meet his eyes. This close, his gaze was powerful. Zander was an alpha, she could tell, even though he had no one to be alpha over. He claimed to be under obligation to Kendrick and Dylan, but as she studied him, Rae understood that Zander chose to be obligated. No one could coerce this man to do anything.
“There?” Zander rumbled when Rae said nothing.
The deep timbre of his voice vibrated up her arm. Rae resisted the urge to snatch her hand away and made herself keep her fingers still. His heart beat swiftly beneath her palm.
“There,” she answered, nodding.
Zander’s expression didn’t change. He closed strong fingers around her wrist and moved her hand a few inches to her right. “There.”
The heartbeat strengthened, his life’s blood pumping. Rae’s cheeks went scalding hot.
Zander’s eyes stayed on her and Rae realized her fingers still rested on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, absorbing his warmth. Her face burning hotter, she yanked her hand away. “All right, so I need a few lessons in anatomy.”
“One or two,” Zander rumbled. “If you’d stuck the sword into me there, I’d be screaming and flopping around. You need to get it right the first time, Little Wolf.”
“Will you stop calling me that?”
“Nope.” Zander heaved himself off the deck, rising to his full height. “You’re smaller than me and you’re a wolf.”
He bent to lift his empty plate and mug, giving Rae a terrific view of his backside, and headed for the ladder down to the cabin.
“How about if I call you Big-Ass Bear?”
Zander glanced behind him, amused. “If it makes you feel better. I’ve been called worse.”
“Yeah, I bet you have,” was all Rae could think of to say.
Zander shook his head and took himself down the ladder, balancing plate, cup, and himself with an ease Felines would envy.
Stupid comeback, Rae told herself. Was that the best I could do? But it was hard to think around the growling, arrogant . . . Big-Ass Bear.
Of course, his ass wasn’t big. It was tight and firm under those jeans, just like the rest of him. He was a conceited pain in the butt, though that didn’t mean Rae couldn’t appreciate a hard-bodied man when she saw one.