Page 10

“Well, it’s no longer just a guess,”

Ryan commented dryly, his voice coming out so soft Trey barely heard him, even with his shifter hearing.

“Nope,”

Ulkna muttered from next to him.

Crouched behind a number of boulders, Trey watched with the group as silhouettes moved beyond the thick fabric tent siding. They appeared to be putting items into storage crates or bags. It was tough to tell.

What was obvious, however, were the three trail mounts tied to a make-shift high-line someone had strung between that tent and another. They each were kitted out with packhorse rigging, clearly waiting for whatever crates or bags the pair in the tent were filling.

“Hurry up, Mark,”

one of the men urged.

“I wanna be out of here within the hour.”

“Keep your voice down, Perry,”

the second man ordered, his voice quite a bit softer.

“Don’t want the guard to hear you.”

The first man, Perry, scoffed.

“Don’t worry about Barny. Guy’s half deaf.”

His tone turned amused as he continued.

“When one of the other grad students asked him about it, Barny laughed it off, saying he’d gone to too many rock concerts in his twenties.”

The men’s conversation turned to the artifacts they were packing up, and Trey turned to stare at Reagan in shock.

“Tell me that’s not Mark’s voice.”

Reagan appeared just as shell-shocked.

“I-I just don’t believe it.”

Whether or not his nephew believed it became a moot point when Mark strode out of the tent, followed by another man. They each held the end of a crate, holding the pair between them. Mark led the way to the horses, approaching Shirley first—the calmest of the trio.

They placed the first crate on the left side of the rig, where Mark strapped it into place. Then, with each man holding onto the rig’s X-bar to keep the uneven load from sliding, they lifted the second crate. After strapping that one down on the second side, Mark adjusted the straps.

Trey imagined he was checking for tightness and balance. Once Mark seemed satisfied, they headed back into the tent.

“Time to call the police,”

Reagan insisted. He pulled out his cell phone, turned it on, and cussed under his breath.

“No service.”

“They may be using a signal jammer, just in case the guard does catch onto their activities.”

Ryan scowled as he muttered.

“I noticed ski masks hanging out of their back pockets, so they’re prepared to cover their faces.”

“I’ll take it up,”

Payson offered, tugging off the jeans he’d donned—as had all the shifters.

“I’m fastest.”

“Yeah, but they’re our missing horses. Our responsibility,”

Reagan declared, indicating between him and Trey.

“The cops are going to want to talk to me.”

He must have noticed Payson’s dubious expression, for his tone turned mutinous.

“I can call the guys and find out if the cop that was supposed to arrive is still there.”

Before Payson could counter, Sam stated.

“Okay. I’ll carry you up. Payson, you can accompany us.”

He lowered his voice to a whisper as he focused on Ryan and ordered.

“Stall them if they look like they’re getting ready to make their getaway.”

Ryan nodded. “Will do.”

Leaning over, he pecked a kiss on the big beta’s lips.

“Be careful.”

Sam scoffed.

“I have the easy job.”

As he shoved off his jeans, he looked around at everyone.

“You all be careful.”

Then Sam and Payson disappeared up the trail, Reagan following. As soon as they were out of sight, Trey heard the faint sounds of bones snapping and muscles popping, telling him they’d shifted. Once the noises faded, Trey heard Reagan mutter.

“Shit, you’re a big bull.”

Trey wasn’t the only one who chuckled softly.

Rueben grinned broadly as he shoved their clothes into his backpack.

“He is a damn big bull.”

They grew silent again as they watched the would-be robbers exit the tent, carrying another pair of crates.

“Using your horses was a great idea,”

Perry praised, grinning.

“With everyone off today and tomorrow, we can be in and out without even having to pass Barny.”

A chuckle escaped him as he continued.

“No one will be the wiser for two days.”

“Yup.”

Mark smirked, his expression smug.

“I’ll tuck the crates in the back of the hay loft until things die down. Then we’ll fence them and make a fortune.”

With a sneer curling his lips, Mark grumbled.

“No more dealing with shitty tourists and their inane chatter and stupidity.”

Trey gaped, shocked to hear Mark’s words. The wrangler had always seemed so happy and friendly. With a ready smile and calm manner, he’d helped many a customer.

“Uh, so how are you going to cover up the fact that we used the trail business’s horses?”

Perry asked curiously as he helped them strap the crates to Pixie, the second mare.

“I mean, surely they’ve noticed them gone by now.”

Mark laughed derisively.

“Those guys are such gullible fools.”

Trey scowled.

“Asshole,”

Ulkna hissed.

Agreeing, Trey nodded, gritting his teeth in irritation.

“Uh, o-okay.”

Perry didn’t seem to know what to do with that answer.

As Mark led the way back into the tent, obviously preparing to get the last of their crates, he stated belligerently.

“I’ll take the horses and release them close to the paddocks. They’ll either wander back on their own, or I’ll pretend to find them.”

With a shrug before disappearing back inside, Mark continued speaking, his voice carrying through the canvas.

“I’ll convince the guys that the gate must have been left open, or they jimmied it loose, and they wandered away. Just lost horses, not stolen.”

Trey growled low in his throat upon hearing Mark’s plans.

“No way is he getting away with this,”

he declared angrily, self-righteous anger surging through him.

“Nope.”

Ulkna squeezed his forearm encouragingly.

“We’re gonna stop ’em.”

His mate glanced toward the trail Sam and the others had disappeared up.

“That’s why the guys are calling the cops.”

Before they could say more, the pair brought out a third set of crates. They approached Glen, but the gelding didn’t seem too keen on being a pack horse and kept side-stepping and shimmying away. It took several minutes for Mark to get the animal settled enough for him to be able to lift and tie them into place.

Glen was a great trail mount, but evidently, this was something new, and he wasn’t too keen on it.

Trey smiled as an idea formed.

A great trail horse.

“I have an idea,”

Trey whispered, glancing around the group. Seeing their questioning expressions, he explained.

“To slow them down. To give the cops time to get here.”

Trey had no idea how long that would take, and he certainly didn’t want this pair to be able to make it to their trailer and get away.

Not gonna happen.

“What did you have in mind?”

Ulkna massaged his palm soothingly.

Trey pointed at the horses.

“They’re trained to follow the horse in front of them. They know me.”

Indicating the others, he told them.

“If you guys can give us a distraction, I can lead them along one of the hiking trails to a cave I know about. Ulkna can ride me to make certain they follow. Although they really shouldn’t give us much trouble til we want to lead them into the cave.”

Pointing off to the left, Trey indicated where he planned to head.

“We’ll hide out there until the cops get here and arrest them.”

After the guys exchanged looks, Trey was surprised when their attention fell on Ryan instead of Ulkna, considering his mate was the shifter there. Except, then he remembered that Ryan was the beta’s mate.

While he’s human, these guys must consider him to be the boss in the guy’s stead.

Huh. That certainly wouldn’t have happened in my old herd.

After a second, Ryan nodded. “Okay.”

He swept his gaze over the area, then pointed at an escarpment fifty feet up.

“Give me a sec to climb up there.”

Ryan indicated the direction Barny should be in.

“Hunter, Reuben, head into those rocks over that way and make some noise. Toss some rocks or do something to get attention. Pretend to be lost hikers or whatever comes to mind.”

Reuben grinned broadly and gave Ryan a thumbs up.

“We got this.”

Hunter didn’t look so certain, but he still nodded gamely.

Grimacing, Trey suddenly realized just how dangerous this could be, and he began second-guessing himself. He had no right to put these strangers in such a position for his nephew’s livelihood, the herd he worked with, and sort of considered family pets, and after hearing Mark’s comments, his wounded pride. Before Trey could attempt to call it off, Ryan slung the strap of his rifle case over his shoulder and ran off, his footsteps silent even on the rocks.

“Shit,”

Trey mumbled uncomfortably.

“Maybe we should just wait a little longer.”

Surely the cops wouldn’t be too much longer, right?

Ulkna rubbed his back, teasing his fingertips along his bare spine.

“Don’t worry, babe.”

Leaning over, he pecked a kiss to Trey’s temple.

“These guys know what they’re doing.”

“Yep.”

Reuben drew a handgun from the backpack and winked at him.

“We’re good.”

Focusing on Hunter, he ordered.

“Stay here, man. I got this.”

Hunter hesitated. Then he nodded, and Reuben slipped away.

“Uh.”

Trey didn’t know how to respond.

Snorting, Ulkna bumped his shoulder with his own.

“These guys have taken on plenty worse than these amateur criminals.”

Patting his shoulder, Hunter smiled.

“It’s fine.”

Reminding himself that they could have said no, after all, Trey nodded. “Okay.”

Ulkna pointed toward the trail behind them.

“Looks like they’re about done with Glen. Why don’t you head a bit farther away and shift?”

Trey nodded. Knowing they didn’t want to draw attention with the noise of his change, he crept away. When he felt he was far enough, he quickly shifted. After shaking out his mane and tail, Trey moved closer, peering between the rocks.

Catching sight of him, Ulkna skulked to his side. He quickly fitted him with the halter and lead rope.

“For appearances’ sake,”

he whispered. Then...they waited.

It didn’t take long.

As soon as Mark disappeared back into the tent, Perry on his heels, a scratching noise filled the air.

The silhouettes of the men froze.

After a few heartbeats, Perry hissed.

“What’s that?”

With the quiet only broken by the scuffle of hooves on stone, the creak of harnesses, and the rustle of tarps, neither man moved. Finally, Mark grumbled.

“Who gives a shit.”

His form reached out and smacked Perry’s.

“We need to clean up and wipe down any metallic surfaces we could’ve touched. No fingerprints or hoof prints.”

Mark started moving. “Hurry.”

Before Mark had taken two steps, the sound of scratching sounded once more, louder that time. They both froze again.

That time, the noise was followed up by a low hissing voice that Trey barely recognized as Reuben.

“I know what you boys are doing in there.”

He chuckled—soft, low, and mean-sounding.

“I got pictures, thieves.”

“Shit,”

Mark snarled. “Get him.”

Mark charged out of the tent, Perry on his heels.

To Trey’s shock, he spotted a gun in Mark’s hand. The sound of feet scrambling over rocks, accompanied by laughter, filled the air. The wrangler sprinted around the tent and out of sight, his conspirator following.

“Come on,”

Ulkna urged, jumping over the rock they’d been hiding behind. He rushed past where Hunter was hiding, and the human swiftly followed. Seeing the pair rushing toward the horses jerked Trey out of his shock, and he darted around a rock and trotted after them.

The noise drew the horses’ attention. They lifted their heads and looked at them. Shirley nickered at him, and after a second, Pixie whinnied her own greeting.

“At least they’re happy to see us,”

Hunter muttered as he began untying Shirley.

“I think they’re greeting Trey.”

Ulkna crossed to Pixie.

Trey stopped next to Glen, hoping his presence would keep the still-unsettled gelding calm. It seemed to work a little too well. His fellow mount neighed loudly before bumping his nose into Trey’s side.

“Hey, that asshole’s a distraction,”

Mark hollered. A second later, his voice rang out again.

“Back to the horses.”

“Shit,”

Hunter hissed, tossing Shirley’s lead rope over her back, copying what Ulkna had done to Pixie. Eyeing Trey’s mate, who was untying Glen, he asked.

“What do we do?”

Ulkna handed Glen’s rope to Hunter.

“Just stay calm. We’ll be fine.”

Then...Ulkna’s body appeared to sink on himself. His clothes tumbled to the ground. A few seconds later, a long, slender coral snake slithered from amidst the fabric and disappeared into the rocks.

“Hold it right there, asshole,”

Mark shouted, stalking toward them.

“Tie them back up, or you’re a dead man.”

Trey eased a step forward, doing his best to shield Hunter.

Even as Hunter reached up as if to retie Glen, Mark screamed and jumped into the air, kicking his leg wildly.

“What are you doing?”

Perry cried, finally appearing from around the tent.

“Snake,”

Mark cried, aiming the gun at the ground and firing.

“Snake bit me.”

A loud shot rang out, and dirt puffed from the ground at Perry’s feet.

“Drop the gun,”

Ryan ordered loudly.

Instead of doing as ordered, Mark lifted his weapon as if to search out Ryan.

He didn’t get the chance.

Rueben lunged from around the opposite side of the tent and tackled Mark. In a swift move, he disarmed the man, laid him out on his stomach, and rested a knee on his spine to hold him in place. With his own gun in hand, Rueben pointed it at Perry...who slowly lifted his hands in surrender.

“I got’em,”

Rueben claimed.

“Come on down, Ryan.”

Without taking his gaze off of the thieves, he hollered.

“You good, Hunter?”

“Yup,”

Hunter replied, patting Trey’s neck as he grinned.

“Good timing, man.”

A smirk curved the redhead’s lips. “’Course.”