Real Men Hunt: Real Men Shift Read online

  The wolf whined and reached over to lick her cheek.

  “I know. It’s depressing as hell. But judging by how pissed off their mayor was, I don’t see how they’ll ever trust me again. So, I ask you again, why bother? Might as well just pack up and head on down the road to lick my wounds.”

  At that, the wolf pulled himself out from under her, causing her head to drop to the grass. As she leaned up on her elbows, he sat a short distance away, staring at her intensely. Almost like he was trying to tell her something. When she moved closer to him, he took two steps back and sat again, that same almost-disappointed look on his face.

  “Hey, was it something I said?” She tried to scoot closer again, but again he shimmied away, always leveling that hard look on her.

  She squirmed under his scrutiny until it became uncomfortable. If he’d been human, she might have thought he was judging her for thinking of walking away from the fight with her father. Obviously her subconscious was working overtime.

  “Hey, after the past twenty-four hours, I’ve earned the right to feel discouraged,” she whined defensively.

  The wolf remained motionless, his gaze burning her with shame.

  “Fine, you’re right, okay? I know that. Duh! I’m not going to give up just because I’ve had a bad day full of drama. If those protestors leave in the morning, fuck ‘em. And fuck the Sorens too. Fuck anyone who doesn’t think I can stop my father from spreading his evil greed across these beautiful, pristine woods.”

  Determination buzzed through her, energizing her with newfound resolve. She didn’t need anyone’s help. And maybe if Warren—er, the entire Soren village—maybe if they saw how hard she was working to thwart her dad, they might start to trust her again. Sitting upright, she grinned at her wolfy friend.

  “They can question my motivations all they want. I’m still going to do everything in my power to stop him, to keep these woods wild. First things first, though. I need to get back and finish my platform. Then I’ll go file that injunction first thing tomorrow. After that, it’s just a waiting game, so I suppose I’ll lie around on my… treehouse.”

  An image of Warren pounding nails into the platform popped into her head unbidden. His smile, his toned but not bulging biceps, his gentle and generous nature. She’d never met anyone quite like him. Maybe one day he could forgive her. If not, she’d survive, but life might be just that much duller.

  Pulling herself to her feet, Persia planted her hands on her hips, a la Wonder Woman, and grinned down at the wolf. “Mark my words, friend. I won’t come down out of that tree until I hear Wolf Woods will remain wild.”

  He barked his approval and then trotted off in the opposite direction from camp, as if that was what he’d been waiting to hear all along.

  Chapter Eleven

  Warren sat on the treehouse platform, the last rays of the orange sunset warming the muscles of his bare chest and arms as he affixed a low railing. The little treehouse was shaping up to look like a proper, serviceable stand with enough room for a couple of people to lie down comfortably. He wiped the sweat from his brow and stared down at the camp, finding a familiar redheaded figure trudging across the clearing toward his tree.

  Right on time.

  Nobody would ever know, but Warren had probably set a record for how fast a wolf could run clear across the woods back to the camp via a roundabout loop. He’d jumped into his work pants as he headed for Persia’s chosen tree but didn’t bother with his shirt. Once he’d learned she liked the way he looked without it, he wondered if he could go his whole life shirtless just to impress her. Probably not, but building her treehouse was a perfect excuse.

  None of the other protestors had tried to stop him from getting back to work, but they’d all been far too busy discussing the latest gossip about Persia to bother joining him. He’d barely caught his breath before he heard her progress through the woods. Quickly moving the rudimentary railing into place, he started nailing like mad until she came into view.

  Stopping at the base of the tree, she looked up with wide-eyed surprise. “Warren?”

  Her voice sounded like a whisper of hope on a cold, dark night. It broke his heart.

  “Hey, what took you so long, Red? Figured I’d have a condo up here by the time you decided to help out.”

  A sea bass couldn’t have done a better impression of a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing with nothing coming out except a few little squeaks. With a confused shake of her head, she tied a loose rope to the handle of her small toolbox and pulled on the other end of the rope.

  “I’m coming up!” she called after he grabbed the toolbox. She ignored the suspicious, angry and hurt looks from the others as she climbed into her harness, which he’d deliberately left on the ground for her.

  When she reached the tree limb, he extended a hand to hoist her onto the platform with him. Her eyes locked onto his broad, glistening torso and he pretended not to notice. He couldn’t stop a smile from playing at his lips, though, so he quickly turned back to the railing before she caught him.

  “I didn’t want to broadcast this conversation by shouting up at you, but what are you doing here? Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad, but after what happened earlier, I didn’t think anyone from your village would be interested in helping me anymore.”

  He shrugged as he hammered a nail into the railing. “Have to admit I’m not a fan of being lied to.” When she opened to her mouth to protest, he held up a hand to stop her. “Yeah, yeah, you didn’t lie. I’ll rephrase, counselor. I don’t appreciate you keeping such a big secret from me… us.”

  Because mates don’t keep secrets, he thought, but managed swallow the words. They had a lot of ground to cover before they could be so open with each other. They’d get there, he knew it in his soul, he just needed to remain patient.

  “I like to think I’m a good judge of character,” he continued, glancing over his shoulder and catching her gaze skimming his back. Her fair skin stood no chance of hiding her embarrassment. “I’m certain you had your reasons for hiding your connection to McNish, but some people in my pa—” He covered the near-slip with a fake sneeze and continued. “Some people in my village don’t exactly see it that way. They wonder how dedicated you are to your cause.”

  Pink turned to red in her cheeks, mottling along her neck and down her chest, where it disappeared under her shirt. The sadness in her eyes as they dropped to inspect the toes of her boots wrenched his gut.

  “Not me,” he quickly added, “or I wouldn’t be here right now. But you have to understand that my people have been burned by strangers too often. That’s hard for us to shake, Red.”

  Instead of arguing, she looked thoughtful for a moment and then met his eyes without a shred of defensiveness. “Your chicken farm plan is solid. That was some quick thinking that my father should have jumped at. Anyone else in the same position would have. Then again, maybe if anyone else but me had presented it, he would have.”

  Warren rolled back onto his ass, taking a much-needed break from being all sweaty and manly for her. “Maybe he’ll see the light.”

  “Maybe.” Though her tone held zero hope of that happening. “But that’s not really his style. Railroading people is though. I think that’s what really revs his engines, forcing people into positions where they have no other choice. And maybe I inherited that gene because I’ve already got all the paperwork ready to file first thing in the morning. It’ll take time for the injunction to be granted, but I have no doubt it will. In the meantime…”

  Warren grinned and patted the platform. “Home sweet home.”

  Persia grinned back, those dimples going all the way to China. “Exactly.”

  For the first time, she glanced around the platform, her gaze zeroing in on a pile of goods he’d dragged up the tree. A dark red eyebrow shot up and her blue-and-brown gaze turned on him with a questioning look.

  “What?” He feigned innocence.

  “What’s that?”

  “Hmm?”
He glanced over his shoulder, as if he didn’t know full well what she was talking about. “Just some food and a couple of sleeping bags.”

  “And why are there two?”

  “One for each of us.” He shrugged one shoulder and went back to nailing down the railing. “There. Low enough we won’t roll off in the middle of the night. It’s also big enough to sleep two comfortably.”

  “Whoa whoa whoa, slow your roll, Paul Bunyan.” She shook her head. “What makes you think I’m letting you sleep on the same platform as me?”

  He didn’t really care if it pissed her off. No mate of his would sleep in a tree alone surrounded by randy hippies. Not gonna happen. “I told you I’d help you build a treehouse, Red. I never said anything about letting you sleep in one on your own.”

  “Excuse me? Who are you to let me do anything?”

  “Listen, I don’t really get the point of all this anyway, but if you’re determined to sleep in a wall-less tree fort, the least I can do is give you a camping buddy. Me!”

  A battle raged inside her, that much he could tell. Her pretty pink lips worked as if she was trying to form words, but the scent coming off her betrayed her arousal.

  “You think I can’t take care of myself?” she sniped, narrowing her gaze at him.

  “I don’t recall ever saying that.”

  “You thought it.”

  “Conjecture, counselor.” He flashed her a sly smile.

  She huffed her frustration. “Point is, I don’t need anyone babysitting me.”

  “Who said anything about babysitting? I’m just here as your muscle, which you haven’t seemed to mind so far, from what I can tell.”

  The color in her cheeks flamed, and Warren sensed a shift in her scent that told him he might not have crossed a line, but he had at least toed it.

  “What the hell is that supposed to—”

  Her volume had grown to the point Warren almost missed a sound that seemed out of place. Scooting close to her, he covered her mouth with his big palm. Obviously, she thought he was trying to stop her arguing, judging by the fire in her eyes, but one cautious finger to his lips stilled her. Then he pointed to the ground, where the sound of someone or something barreling through the trees echoed through the woods.

  Then came the shouts and more leaves rustling until a few of the protestors ran toward their chosen trees. Several sheriff deputies chased after them, pulling them away from their half-finished projects before they could get a couple feet off the ground.

  “You’re under arrest for trespassing, you tree-hugging asshole!” a younger deputy shouted a little too eagerly as he pushed Leaf’s face into the forest floor.

  Warren released a stunned Persia as the scene repeated itself a few more times, until the deputies escorted the last of the protestors from the woods. More shouting and arguing rippled through the air from the direction of the campsite, which could only mean one thing. Every last protestor was being evicted. Not just evicted but arrested.

  The effort was far too coordinated and far too violent for Warren’s taste. It reeked of McNish’s doing. The proud members of the Tremble PD were as honest as the day was long, which explained why the county cops had swooped in. McNish had probably greased the county Sheriff’s palm to get the job done.

  Warren and Persia had dropped low and lain on their stomachs, peering over the edge of their treehouse during the commotion. They remained silent and motionless as they watched the raid, instinctively knowing they were far more valuable to the cause if they remained in the tree than if they came down and allowed themselves to be arrested. That would serve no one but McNish.

  The sound of the last Sheriff’s cruiser driving off grew faint, and then silence overtook the woods at the same point the darkness of night engulfed them. Warren was about to say something when Persia shook her head. They waited a full five minutes before she finally sat up and rested her back against the tree trunk.

  “Well, shit,” she breathed, looking stunned, as far as he could tell in the dim light. “I can’t believe my father did that. You know he was responsible for this. R, right?”

  “I figured,” Warren replied, leaning back next to her.

  “I also can’t believe none of them ratted us out. They knew we were up here, but they didn’t say anything. Even after all the terrible things I said to them.”

  “Maybe those circle-jerkers like you more than you realize.” He absently pulled out their sleeping bags.

  She stared at him with a confused expression when he handed over hers. “H-how did you know about…” she started.

  Oh shit. She’d spilled her guts to his wolf not him. A good offense was always the best defense, he decided.

  “You’re not as hard to read as you think, Red.”

  She seemed to buy it. “Guess not. Not a great trait for a lawyer, huh? Should we go bail them out?”

  “Only if you’re sure the Sheriff has the slightest inkling to set them free before all of this blows over in your dad’s favor, which I can guarantee he doesn’t.” He was grim as he rolled out his sleeping bag.

  She watched him with incredulity for a moment before responding. “You’ve got to be kidding me with that.”

  He grinned as he sat on the relative cushiness of the sleeping bag and pulled a bag of potato chips from the food stores he’d brought up. “Here’s the way I see it, Red. You’re not going to give up your advantage of leaving this tree. I’m not leaving you up here alone. Which means we’re gonna be here for a while. Might as well get comfy.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Persia’s legs dangled off the edge of the platform as she watched the embers of a few dying campfires flicker into oblivion. Just like her protest. A few minutes either way, and she would have found herself in the back of a squad car, just like Leaf and Summer and all the rest. Her father would be pissed she hadn’t been tossed behind bars for the night, or longer, if he could somehow have managed it. Nothing made him happier than teaching her a lesson.

  “How bad are the local cops?” She glanced back at Warren, who’d managed to find his shirt, much to her bitter disappointment.

  Warren’s big hand dragged through his mop of sandy hair, slicking back the part that was still damp from his sweat. When it was dry, his hair seemed pretty straight, only curling at the nape of his neck and temples when he’d been working hard. Darkness had fallen so heavily in the canopy of the woods she couldn’t make out those kinds of details very well, and suddenly she wished for a lantern.

  Spinning around, she focused on the silhouette of a nearby tree, trying to not think about the way her body reacted every time he came into view. Hell, every time she even thought about him. No stranger to animal attraction, Persia had never been so irresistibly drawn to anyone before. It was almost as if he was a bonfire and she was a hapless moth. With a firm head shake, she reminded herself—just as she had many times over the last day—she was there to do a job, not a local boy.

  “The town cops are good guys,” he finally answered, “but those county jerks…”

  “So, they’re evil?”

  Warren snorted. “I’d say ‘evil adjacent.’ From what I’ve heard, your dad’s had the sheriff and some of his deputies in his pocket for a while now.”

  “That sounds right,” Persia sighed. “My dad has always used money to grease the wheels of what he calls progress. No matter where he goes, he manages to sniff out the people in charge who are most susceptible to taking bribes and breaking their oaths. It’s like his superpower.”

  “Dirtbag,” Warren sneered, then quickly added, “No offense.”

  Persia shook her mane of red hair. “You’re joking, right? He’s been a cold shadow looming over me since the day I was born. I think ‘dirtbag’ is too good for him.”

  Anger was herbal tea compared to the fury that pulsed through her veins at this latest salvo by good old Daddy Dearest. He’d gone too far this time. Eh, who was she kidding? He’d gone too far many times, but this was the last straw. Jumping
to her feet, she grabbed her harness and strapped in.

  “Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Warren’s voice was full of alarm.

  Persia clipped the carabiner to her harness and gave it a good tug. “Duh, I’m going to bail them out. I can’t just sit up here and twiddle my thumbs while they rot in some nasty backwater cells. No offense.”

  He didn’t seem to hear the accidental insult as he scrambled to his feet and grabbed her belaying line. “Like hell!”

  “I can’t just sit here!” she fired back.

  Warren let his eyelids fall shut as he took a deep breath, giving her the chance to take in the sharp line of his nose, the light stubble on his cheeks, the way his lips pressed together when she frustrated him. Damn, that would be heaven to see every day.

  “Listen to me, Persia.” He softened his tone and slipped his hand down to cover hers. It took all of her concentration to focus on his words after that. “We already talked about this. You can’t risk getting arrested. If you go down there and some errant deputy is stationed out there somewhere, you’ll join everyone else behind bars. Their sacrifice will mean nothing. You can’t save Wolf Woods from a jail cell.”

  “I know, but it feels like I’m hiding up here instead of facing my dad head on.”

  Warren gently unclipped her from the harness and helped her out of it before she really knew what he was doing. All she knew was that his body was so close to hers, his knuckles skimming random spots on her body and causing her brain to spin around inside her skull like a top.

  “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you have to pick your battles wisely. Getting your pals out of jail may seem important, but they didn’t rat you out for a reason. Even if they were angry with you, they knew you’re the only person who has a snowball’s chance in a Georgia summer of winning against your father.”