Page 11 of Mitchell’s Untamed Mate (More Than Human #2)

S nickers greeted them when they entered the atrium nearly forty-five minutes later. Tracy ignored the grins of her aunts and uncles. She wasn’t quite as successful when it came to her dad’s raised eyebrow. Her face heated and she made a detour towards the table of food and beverages that Martha had set up.

“Mitchell, I don’t have much time, but I’ve conveyed what happened to Lena, Art, and Ty. Tracy, you’ll need to contact your friends. I know you’ve worked with Van and Peterson for years. I would trust them before I’d trust anyone else,” Michaela said.

He nodded. “I can’t make any promises until I talk to the others.”

Michaela waved her hand. “You’ll convince them.”

“How do you know?” he asked.

Michaela lifted a delicate eyebrow and glanced at Tracy before returning her attention to him. “Because you’re a good leader… and you have some foot in the game. Now, as much as I’d love to gorge myself on more of Martha’s wonderful cooking, I need to leave. I have a meeting with my cabinet members this evening.”

Ty snickered at the disgruntled expression on Michaela’s face. “Don’t bite anyone’s head off.”

Michaela rose, picked up her gloves, and playfully slapped Ty’s shoulder with them. “Now where’s the fun in that? Art, I’ll call you later… or better yet, call me if you need anything. The less I know, the better it might be. This way I can deny everything and the reporters won’t smell a lie.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Art said, rising.

Mitchell speculatively watched Michaela and Art as they exited the room arm-in-arm, chatting as if everything that had happened today was normal. He turned his attention back to Tracy. She was filling a plate with food. The rumbling in his stomach served as a reminder that he had not eaten since the last bite he had at the facility where they had taken him.

“Here you go,” Tracy said, holding out a plate.

He took the plate. It was warm, smooth, and made from a sturdy glass-like material. The table was filled with enough food to feed his clan. Silver containers with small fires under them kept the food hot.

He filled his plate with baked fish, potatoes, an assortment of vegetables, small sandwiches filled with mystery things, fresh fruit, and stuffed pastries with white fluffy stuff on top. His eyes roamed over the plate, trying to decide what he was going to eat first. It all looked and smelled delicious.

“You can come back as much as you want. Martha will be thrilled,” Tracy murmured.

He looked at his plate, at the table, then back at her. “There is enough food on this table alone to feed my village. I don’t think I’ve ever had this much food on my plate before.”

Tracy’s eyes grew dark with emotion, and a shimmer of tears made them glisten. He hadn’t said that to make her feel bad. It was a fact.

“Hopefully, after you’ve talked to them, your people will never have to feel hungry again,” she said.

His attention lingered on the table. He couldn’t help but imagine what the others would say if they saw this house and the food. Guilt made him look down at his laden plate.

“Mitchell.”

He looked up when Ella called out his name. She gave him an understanding smile and motioned for him to sit next to her. He walked over, placed his plate on the table, and slid onto the cushioned chair. A plump woman with a pleasant smile came over and poured water into one stemmed glass and juice into another.

“Would you like coffee or tea?”

“No, thank you,” he replied.

He blinked when he noticed the woman’s distinctive yellow-gold eyes, small button nose, and the wisps of white hair feathering out along her temples. She gave him a brilliant smile that was reflected in her eyes. There was a genuine warmth to her that reminded him of Anna.

“If you need or want anything special, you let me know,” Martha instructed.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Martha. That will be all for now. Can you make sure we aren’t interrupted?” Art requested.

“Yes, sir. No one will bother you unless the mansion is on fire,” Martha vowed.

“That only happens when you let me and Ty in the kitchen,” Tracy snorted.

“Hey, speak for yourself. It was your brilliant idea to put the pizza in the toaster oven on broil,” Ty protested.

Lena sighed and shook her head at him. “Tracy is good at one thing—boiling water. Even then, she tends to get distracted. She's burned up more than one of Martha’s prized pots.”

Art chuckled. “Martha does get a little twitchy whenever Tracy enters the kitchen.”

“Thanks for bringing this up again, bro,” Tracy muttered, buttering a scone and popping it into her mouth.

“The meals she cooked were good,” Mitchell defended, looking at the group.

Ty laughed. “Let me guess, the freeze-dried meals where all you had to do was boil the water?”

“I’d like to see you do any better,” she scoffed.

Mitchell listened to the cheerful banter between Tracy and her brother as he polished the food off his plate. He didn’t miss the way Tracy kept adding more. Every time he would clear a spot, she would add a pastry, roll, or delicate baked egg in a crust to his plate. He finally placed his hand over hers when his stomach felt like it would explode if he ate another bite.

Art cleared his throat and sat back. A hush fell around the table and the mood turned more serious. Lena reached over and curled her fingers around her husband’s hand and gave him a smile of encouragement.

“Mitchell, I believe you've heard about the temporary compound that's ready for you,” Art began.

“Yes. Tracy said it was—” He paused, searching for a way to agree without giving away his people’s location. Shaking his head, he realized that it was a moot point. They already had a general location thanks to Ella… and Mitchell. “She said it was near my people.”

“It’s in the Park’s protected region. There was an old lodge surrounded by cabins back at the turn of the century. It was closed down nearly forty years ago after the lodge burned down. It’s off the beaten trail, near Mt. Seal. The cabins have been maintained enough that it won’t take much to fix them up. There’s a road that leads to a few trailheads, but there’s nothing else along that stretch. This makes it easy to shut that area down,” Ty shared.

“I don’t know where this Mt. Seal is located,” Mitchell confessed.

“Tracy, could you please get the maps while we clear the table?” her father requested.

Tracy nodded, rising as her brother, Ella, and their mother cleared the table, stacking the dirty dishes on a nearby serving cart. Art lifted the carafes of coffee and tea. Mitchell retrieved his glass of water before Ella could whisk it away.

“The old lodge area works well because the infrastructure is already available. It’s remote, but not too remote to transport supplies in and out. There is always work being done on the Park, so it shouldn’t attract any attention,” Art explained.

Mitchell nodded, listening as the older shifter described how a fence had been erected around the perimeter already and the cabins had been refurbished along with raised canvas tents that would help with lodging, storing, dining, and medical care. His mind swirled with all the information Art was conveying.

It was obvious those involved had thought through what would be needed. Ella slid back onto the chair to the right of him while Tracy returned with the maps and spread them across the table on his left. He shot Ella a surprised look when she cupped his hand.

“They asked me to help with the planning. I picked this location for a reason,” she murmured, glancing at Art under her eyelashes.

“This is Mt. Seal. It’s in the northwest corner of Lake Otterman,” Tracy explained, tracing her finger on the map to show the spot.

Mitchell swallowed as he stared at the detailed map. The large swath of green was surrounded by tiny dots indicating shifter towns. All doubt about the viability of the humans remaining hidden disintegrated. If he took this map back to his clan, they would see there was no hope.

His gaze connected with Tracy’s and he knew that wasn’t true. There was hope. It just came in a different form. Survival would necessitate that he and the remaining humans adapt, accept change, and move ahead.

“I will speak to my people,” he said, looking around the group at the table.

“I could go with you—” Ella said.

“No!”

Mitchell looked up, startled at Ty’s harsh denial. The other man’s face flushed. Ty’s eyes were locked on Ella’s and he was shaking his head. Mitchell frowned and his eyes narrowed at the man’s heated refusal.

“You have to remember this isn’t just about us anymore,” Ty said, his voice softer and filled with concern. “You’ve been sick.”

“I’m not sick. I’m pregnant. There’s a difference,” Ella scoffed.

“You can have children with?—”

This time, it was Mitchell’s face that flushed when all attention focused on him. He had never contemplated that a shifter and a human could procreate together. He looked at Tracy. Her face turned a touch rosy, but her eyes twinkled with mischief.

“If you need a lesson in the shifters-and-the-bees, I’ll be happy to show you,” she teased.

“Jeez, Tracy. Get a room,” Ty muttered.

She raised an eyebrow at her twin. “Why should you be the only one to get one, bro?”

“Knock it off, you two,” Lena chided.

“Sorry, mom,” Tracy muttered.

“Sorry,” Ty echoed, ruining the apology when he stuck his tongue out at Tracy.

Lena gave both of her children a disapproving glare. “I would love to say they aren’t always like this… but I would be lying.”

“No no, I understand how… the shifters-and-the-bees work. I just never thought about it,” he confessed.

“I agree with Ty on this one, Ella," Art said. "I think it would be safer for you to remain here. There are still threats as news of human existence continues to spread. I think Tracy and Mitchell should be the ones to go. Tracy, you should have Van and Peterson set up a team to help you, just to be on the safe side.”

“I agree,” Lena replied, her tone indicating some qualms, “though I do have some reservations about the extent of the team's involvement. With her background in the field, Tracy brings a wealth of experience, and her gender provides her with a non-threatening presence. While I like the concept of Van and Peterson there at a distance for backup, I think it would be more suitable for Tracy to be the sole shifter point-of-contact with the humans until Mitchell talks to the others.”

Ty nodded in agreement. “I like that plan.”

“Michaela has ordered the SBSI to maintain a secure perimeter around the Park,” Art added.

“I was wondering why they were there,” Tracy huffed, sitting back and folding her arms.

“Be glad they were. An unknown assailant tranquilized Mitchell and it was only chance that the SBSI was able to take him to safety instead of his attacker taking him for who knows what reason."

Tracy's eyes widened and she held Mitchell's hand.

"The truck belonged to the wolverine shifter who set the trap that caught Ella,” Art said.

“He’s dead,” she replied.

Art nodded. “I know. Michaela told me. This is why it is important that we take care of this matter as soon as possible and why you shouldn’t be alone.”

“Mitchell, when would you like to return to your people?” Lena asked.

Mitchell studied the group of faces, each one filled with curiosity and anticipation. Once again, the weight of his responsibilities pressed down on him like a heavy burden. As he glanced in Ella’s direction, he couldn’t help but notice the changes. Her face and body had transformed since he last saw her, becoming more rounded and healthy-looking. The once fragile thinness, the result of perpetual hunger, had vanished. In its place was a youthful, energetic woman who looked happy.

“Tomorrow. We leave tomorrow.”

Lorne Timberwolf stared out of the window on the second floor of the Bearclaw, Redfoot, and Timberwolf Security Services office. The office, located in the historic part of Seattle, was a satellite branch. The creak of the old wood plank floors warned him someone was coming down the hall.

The office was sparse, since they seldom spent much time there. It consisted of three interconnecting main rooms and a bathroom. The reception area where he was standing held an old wooden oak desk, two comfy dark-brown faux leather armchairs, a small refrigerator with refreshments, and some paintings of the area a hundred years ago.

The second room to his left was a corner office with a couch, desk, and bookshelves with law books. There was a small bathroom with a sink, toilet, and shower connected to it. The last room was a conference room. The only thing in it was a long oval table and eight chairs.

The conference room had a connecting door to the rest of the offices located on the second floor. They were empty, and used primarily for storage for the restaurant and shops that took up the first floor. The third floor housed apartments. He had a corner unit, but didn’t go there much.

He turned when the door opened. He masked his feelings of discontent behind the easy facade that he reserved for the outside world. His brother entered and shot him a grin.

“I’m glad you’re here. When you didn’t answer your phone, I was afraid you had done one of your disappearing acts,” Van greeted.

“My phone was dead,” he lied.

Van shook his head. “One of these days you need to get it together, little brother.”

Lorne shrugged. “My charger died and I didn’t realize it. What’s up?”

Van walked over to the small refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. He held it up as an offer. Lorne shook his head. Van shrugged, popped the top, and took a deep gulp before wiping his hand across his mouth. Lorne waited with growing frustration as his brother took his time answering his question.

“Tracy called. We have a major security job and are going to need everyone we can get,” Van said, sliding into one of the padded armchairs near the window.

“You couldn’t have called?” he asked before he remembered that Van had.

Van lifted an eyebrow. “I tried, remember. It doesn’t matter. The decision was made that we only notify the team in person.”

Lorne scowled at his brother. If he was trying to be as equivocal as possible, he was doing a fantastic job. He leaned his hip against the desk, folded his arms, and waited.

“Now that I have your undivided attention, I need you to pack your stuff and be prepared for a long-term security post,” Van stated.

“Doing what?”

Van shot him a grin. “Guarding humans at a new compound being constructed.”

Lorne stiffened. “Humans? As in more than Ella?”

Van nodded. “Yeah. From what we know at the moment, there are around thirty of them. They’ve been living for centuries in the forests. With development closing in, they are slowly losing their privacy. The compound is a temporary one to help them transition. They’ll be moved to a larger, more secure location when it is finished.”

Lorne frowned. “So, the plan is to round the humans up and put them in cages? That doesn’t sound like much fun.”

“Not cages. A large, secured village where they can thrive without fear of some asshole shifter trying to use them as an exotic pet. They’re dying out. If we don’t do something to help them, they will be the last ones,” Van said, his voice dropping on the last part.

Lorne looked out the window. Heavy gray skies and a light drizzle mirrored his mood. Guilt weighed on his shoulders, but he couldn’t show it. If there was one thing he was good at, it was hiding his emotions.

“When and where do I need to be?” he asked, looking back at his brother.

Van was studying his face. “By Friday. We still need to finalize a few things.” He straightened when Van rose from the chair. “I’ve got to make a few more contacts. Make sure you keep your phone on. Peterson and I will be out of touch for a few days. I told Ty to contact you if anything came up.”

Lorne frowned. “What about Tracy?”

Van gave him a crooked smile. “Tracy’s doing what Tracy does best.”

Lorne’s frown deepened. “What’s that?”

“Hunting humans. We’ll hopefully be back by Friday. If not, Ty will let you know where you need to report.”

Lorne followed his brother to the door. He watched as his brother exited the office and headed down the empty corridor to the stairs at the far end. He slowly shut the heavy wooden door, looking at the frosted glass it contained as he did so, the simple signage of Bearclaw, Redfoot, and Timberwolf.

Slipping his hand into his pocket, he pulled out his phone. Brushing his finger across the screen, he opened the photos folder and selected an untitled album. Pain, regret, and a sliver of hope washed through him as he brushed the image of the smiling face with his thumb. He closed his eyes.

“Soon,” he murmured.