Boarlander Silverback (Boarlander Bears #3)(4)

“But if we were friends, maybe they wouldn’t want to pull that trigger,” Bash murmured. “I like friends. Not enemies. Me and Emerson got a cub comin’. Don’t want no danger.”

Kirk smiled and gripped Bash’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. She and your cub are safe. She’s got all our protection.”

“Not mine,” Clinton said lightly. He ripped the cord of his chainsaw and went to work cutting a wedge from a tree.

Kirk shook his head. Bullshit. Clinton would throw himself in front of a moving train if it would save Audrey and Emerson from hurt. He just didn’t want to admit he cared about them or anyone else.

Kirk made it a safe distance away and pulled the cord of his own chainsaw. His arm hurt with the motion, and for the hundredth time, he remembered the look on Alison’s face when she’d realized she shot him. Sad, disappointed, and so damned beautiful.

He didn’t give a shit about her partner, Finn Brackeen, but Alison had drawn his animal straight up when she’d held her ground at his charge. She was brave, and under that tough-woman exterior, she harbored a surprising submissiveness that made no sense to him.

All of his first impressions of her had been wrong, and now he wanted to know more. Wanted to know everything. That was terrifying.

Being part of Kong’s family group had stifled his urge to choose a mate. Being under a more dominant silverback did that. But being around the Boarlanders was changing everything. Logging season was almost over, and he would go back to the Lowlanders. He balked against the idea, but it would be best. The woman he was unsettlingly interested in could be the most dangerous decision he could make for the Boarlanders.

And they deserved better.





Chapter Three


“Damon Daye has put off a meeting with us for two weeks now,” Alison said into the phone.

Porter had been the one who’d gotten her off desk work and into this job. Sure, it was a crappy gig, but it was better than pushing papers all day. At least she was out on the streets again…er…the forest.

“Well, push the issue because you have to build up some kind of rapport with these people.” The way he had said “people” grated on her nerves, like they were animals instead. Understandable since she’d come here thinking the same thing, but after two encounters with some of the shifters of Damon’s mountains, now she wasn’t so sure.

“Porter, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be doing here,” she admitted. “Brackeen and I have been told so little, and he seems fine with that, but I want clearer boundaries on this job.”

“So, you’re bored.”

She laughed and leaned on the kitchen counter of her cabin, crossed one arm under her elbow as she held the cell phone closer. “Well, it’s a different pace here than in Chicago, that’s for sure.”

“Enjoy the sunshine and fresh air, Holman.”

“Is this to help with the problems I had before? Is this like a rest and relaxation job? Because I have to tell you, the rest of the world seems to have its prejudices with the shifters, but Saratoga seems pretty docile. Pro-shifter, in fact. The shifters don’t have a single late permit, certificate, damned speeding ticket. They’re clean, Porter, and from what I can tell, they are just up here trying to live their lives. So that’s it, right? Send me on this bullshit job to give me some time to get over what happened?” She would rather log roll in poison ivy than talk about what had taken her from active duty, but she had so many questions about what the higher-ups wanted her doing out here, and Porter had been a slippery little bugger with his answers lately.

“Up there trying to live their lives—except for Damon killing an entire secret branch of the damned government. The Breck Crew outed that shit, Holman. Outed a top secret group to the public, and it looks bad for everyone who even smells of IESA. But that doesn’t negate the fact that Damon played hungry dragon with actual living people.”

“Yeah, I know. I get it. Justice and all.” But was it justice if they were just defending themselves? Because she’d defended herself, and everyone on the force had said that was okay and she shouldn’t feel guilt. But there seemed to be a double standard with shifters because of the animal’s that resided within them.

“Eye on the prize, Holman. Don’t go all sympathizer on me. You’re there to keep peace, for them and for humans.”

“Okay, I know. I’m the point of contact between the outside world and them.”

“Exactly. You’ll do great, and eventually you’ll come back, and we’ll get you back on the streets.”

Back on the streets—that statement held a terrifying combination of words. Back undercover, he meant. Back in the darkness. Back where no one could save her fast enough when things went bad. Back to being alone with real monsters. She closed her eyes against the memories that scratched at her mind, begging for a replay. Not here, not now. Not ever if she could help it.

The throaty rumble of a car sounded outside. Probably a groupie wanting to get up into the mountains for a picture with a shifter. The shifters had a massive fan base here. “I have to go. I have to check someone in.” And sadly, it would be the most exciting thing that happened all day.

“Head down, focus on that endgame,” Porter said. “Babysit those shifters and then get back to normal life.”