Page 15 of Mitchell’s Untamed Mate (More Than Human #2)

“ M orning.”

Mitchell nodded to Peterson as he rolled out of his tent and stretched with a low groan. Peterson scratched his belly and looked around. Tracy was boiling water for their drinks and had laid out a selection of breakfast bars. From the glum expression on Peterson’s face, he wasn’t overly enthusiastic about their morning meal.

“Coffee?” Peterson asked with a hopeful expression.

“Almost ready,” Tracy responded.

“Did you find anything last night?” Mitchell asked.

Peterson shook his head. “No, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t someone out there.”

Mitchell nodded. “It could have been my imagination.”

“It wasn’t.”

They all turned when Van appeared out of his tent. His face was grim and his eyes barely contained his fury.

“What is it?” Tracy asked in a voice filled with concern.

Van opened his clenched fist and held it out. A tiny silver disk lay in the center of his palm. Mitchell didn’t know what it was, but from Van’s furious expression, Tracy’s shocked hiss, and Peterson’s low, intense curse, it must not be good.

“What is that?” he asked, picking it up and turning it over in his hand.

“A tracking device,” Peterson and Van growled at the same time.

“Where was it?” Tracy asked.

Van nodded toward the tent. “In my pack. I was digging around for a pain reliever I dropped and felt a cut in the lining of my bag. I pulled this out.”

Van took the disk out of his hand and flipped it over. Mitchell could see a tiny set of numbers etched into the metal.

“Who could have put it there? Can those numbers tell you?” Mitchell asked, motioning to the disk.

Van’s eyes glittered with fury. “Oh, I know who the disk belongs to… and the only person who could have put it there,” he growled.

“You don’t think—” Peterson asked, his eyes filled with concern.

“Who?” Tracy murmured.

Van’s lips pinched into a stern line as he stared down at the disk. He walked over to the firepit and dropped the disk in the remains of the cold fire. Mitchell’s concern grew when he saw the other man struggling for control.

“Lorne,” Van finally answered.

Tracy walked over to Van and laid her hand on his arm. Whoever this man Lorne was, he must mean a lot to Van. It was clear the other man was extremely upset. Memories of his feelings of betrayal when Jace attacked him when they were kids flashed through his mind.

“Who is Lorne?” he asked.

“Van’s younger brother,” Peterson murmured.

His frown deepened. “Why would your brother betray you?”

Van looked up from where he was staring at the pile of ash, shook his head, and began buttoning his shirt. Tracy looked back and forth between them before she sighed.

“We can’t know for sure. The only thing we do know is that it is a tracker and whoever put it there knows where we are,” she said.

Mitchell grinned. “Well, it won't be a problem. I told you we humans have learned to listen to our guts. We are heading in the opposite direction of my people. I would like to check all our bags to make sure there aren’t more of these silver disks. Once we know that there aren’t, I will start heading us in the right direction.”

Peterson laughed. “Damn. I really wish we could see the culprit’s face when they realize we are onto them.”

“I will,” Van stated.

Mitchell looked at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ll be here when whoever is following us arrives. Peterson, you and Tracy head out with Mitchell. Get to his people as fast as you safely can,” Van instructed.

“What about you?” Tracy asked with concern. “Whoever’s following us is dangerous. They already killed one person.”

“She’s right, Van. We don’t know how many are following us. I think Tracy and Mitchell should go ahead. We could at least give the idiots following us a run for their money and lead them away,” Peterson said.

Van cursed under his breath. “I don’t like this. I don’t want to leave them without backup,” he hissed, running his hands through his hair.

Tracy squeezed his arm. “I don’t like it either, but maybe we can use this to our advantage. I go with Mitchell while you and Peterson find out who is behind this. Like Mitchell said, he led us in the opposite direction. I have the satellite phone. I won’t use it unless it’s an emergency, because if... if Lorne is working with whoever is behind this, he could track the call. I need you both to make sure that if and when I do call, we can get everyone safely out.”

Van nodded. “I’ll let Ty and your folks know what is going on as soon as I can. Tracy—” He paused and looked back at Mitchell with regret. “You two be careful.”

“No one wants to piss off a grizzly bear. We’ll be fine,” she promised.

“You’d better be,” Van muttered, pulling her into his arms. “If Lorne is involved, I’ll find out and deal with it.”

Tracy leaned back and studied his face. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

“I won’t, but he better tell me the damn truth,” Van muttered.

“We’d better get moving. Mitchell, I condensed our stuff down to one pack. We figured it would be better if one of us was in our wolf form. I can’t carry two packs. Do you think you can carry the extra supplies?” Peterson asked.

“Yes. You... you’ve checked it to make sure it is safe?” he asked.

Peterson nodded. “It’s clean.”

He took Peterson’s backpack and set it down at his feet. Peterson murmured words of encouragement to Tracy before he nodded to Van, and seconds later, the two men disappeared back down the rocky face. He turned when Tracy touched his arm.

“Everything will be alright,” she murmured.

He nodded. “Let’s get moving. It will take us two days to get to my clan if we maintain a brisk pace.”

He stowed his gear into the backpack Peterson had left before slinging it over his shoulders and strapping it on. Tracy partially covered the remains of their firepit. They wanted whoever was following them to think they didn’t know about the tracking device—at least until Van and Peterson could catch up with them.

Scanning the area, he searched for anything that might seem unusual. Tracy paused beside him, sniffing the air. He looked down at her when she squeezed his fingers.

“All good?” she asked.

“Yes. Let’s get moving. I’d like to put as much distance as possible between us and whoever is out there,” he replied.

Unable to resist, he bent and kissed her hard on the lips. She stared back at him, and the expression in her eyes warmed his soul and sent a sense of resolve through him. He would fight to keep her.

But at what cost? he couldn’t help but silently wonder as they set off at a brisk pace.

The Nightsky Estate:

Talon stared down at the satellite image. This report differed from the others he normally received. This one he had pulled himself.

Who else would know about this and why would they want to access them now? he wondered.

With a fleet of satellites in orbit, the division of SBSI had an unparalleled ability to track and monitor rogue shifter operations around the world. Only a select few personnel at the SBSI possessed the necessary security clearance to access these particular satellites. Since the discovery of the human female, he had requested the NSKY85 meticulously scan the Olympic National Park region.

The data report revealed that an unauthorized user had gained access to the server housing the satellite images using the security clearance of an analyst who had tragically passed away in a car accident two years prior.

The image had captured the blurred images of a caravan of people moving in single file along a ridgeline. Glancing at the time/date stamp, it revealed that it had been four days since the event. The group was moving northwest toward Huber Glacier Pass, heading toward the heart of Mount Olympus.

The group’s direction puzzled him. Usually at this time of year, there were thick layers of snow on the mountain. Even on the hottest summer days, the higher elevations could be blanketed in unexpected snow. There was little food or shelter that he was aware of at that altitude.

He absentmindedly tapped his fingers on the smooth, polished cherry wood desk in his grandfather’s study, pondering his next move as he stared out the window at the manicured rear gardens. The order consisted of only a handful of Collectors, only a select few entrusted with their important task. Stretched far and wide across the globe, they were descendants as he was, honor bound by their duty to find and safeguard humans. While he held the position of leader, they all carried out their tasks independently. Their Collectors’ gatherings were infrequent, occurring only once a year or when something of great importance was unearthed.

A chime alerted him that the cameras at the front gate had been activated. He turned toward the monitor behind him and watched as the guard stepped out. His lips curved when he noticed two additional cars pull up behind the first. He rose from his chair at the same time his cellphone buzzed. He answered it with a smile.

“Yes, they have arrived,” he said.

The wheezing breath of his grandfather’s chuckle confirmed what he suspected. The old shifter had been watching from his bedroom window. His grandfather’s delighted laugh warmed his heart.

“I’m coming down. Don’t start without me,” his grandfather ordered.

Talon opened his mouth to protest before he sighed. This was a lifelong dream of his grandfather’s. He couldn’t deny the old shifter this opportunity to participate in such a historic event.

“We will be in the den,” he answered.

“Good. Charles, I don’t want the black jacket and tie. I’m not going to my funeral, you damn hoot owl. I want my red evening coat with the striped tie. Yes… yes, that one. It does not look like a?—”

Talon shook his head in wry amusement. A smile played on his lips as his grandfather disconnected their call. Talon had known Charles, his grandfather’s faithful manservant, since he was a boy. Charles’s demeanor was a unique blend of saint-like patience and the no-nonsense attitude of a bouncer. Whenever his grandfather would rage, Charles would retaliate by giving the old shifter a taste of his own medicine. He had lost count of the number of times his grandfather had fired Charles, the stout, old barn owl, only to rehire him before he even reached the front door.

He exited the study and descended the stairs. He motioned for Olive, Charles’ mate, to open the door, which she did as a group of men stepped into the outside foyer.

“Greetings, Xavier.”

He shook hands with his Asian counterpart. Xavier bowed his head in greeting. Xavier Li, dressed in a black suit and crisp white shirt, represented the Asian Order of the Guardians. His olive complexion and exotic looks reflected his owl. Not much was known about the Andaman Masked Owl. Xavier preferred it that way.

“Greetings, Talon. I see you ordered a nice rain shower for us,” Xavier commented in a dry tone.

“My apologies for the weather. It would appear the Goddess enjoys it whenever you visit,” he replied. “Mateo,” he greeted.

“Talon, it is good to see you. I agree with Xavier, though. A little more sunshine would have been appreciated. This makes me feel like I never left home,” Mateo chuckled.

Mateo Marquis represented the South American Species regions. Much of the area was rainforest or high desert. Dressed more casually than the rest, Mateo preferred comfort over style in his tan slacks, white long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his shirt opened far enough to tease the females with the dark hair that covered his chest. Mateo was the playboy of the lot with his dancing brown eyes and infectious grin.

“Ah, Olive. You have grown more beautiful since I last saw you. Have you left that ungrateful lout of a husband yet?” he murmured, catching Olive’s fingers and bending to give the back of her hand a kiss.

“That ungrateful lout will pull your tail feathers out if you aren’t careful,” Olive replied, swatting at Mateo as he danced away with a laugh. “I’ll go get the refreshments ready, if that will do, sir.”

“Yes, please, Olive,” Talon said.

“Talon, it is good to see you again. Is it true?” Juliette Natnel inquired.

Juliette’s dark face was highlighted by darker spots and framed by cream-colored hair. Dark, sooty-eyelashes rimmed her almond-shaped eyes. Standing almost as tall as he did at just over six foot, she was slender with a muscular build. An Itombwe owl from the African regions, Juliette was one of the few of her kind that remained from the time of the Great War. Her species had been persecuted for protecting the humans. Most of the Itombwe had been hunted down and murdered after the war, with only a few escaping deep into the rainforests of the Congo where the gorilla shifters had protected them.

“Yes.”

Her breath of surprise and the slight shimmer of tears were quickly masked by the serene expression she always wore. He knew how much finding a living human meant to her. It was a validation of all the sacrifices her species had made centuries before.

“Talon,” Miles greeted with a firm handshake.

“Miles.”

Miles Todd represented the Australian Species. He and Miles sized each other up. They were a lot alike—which frequently made these meetings tense. Neither one of them was a follower, and when the group had voted to make Talon the Collector in charge instead of Miles, the tension had risen another notch.

“It would appear you’ve been promoted again,” Miles said with a sardonic twist of his lips at the slight jab.

“Yes. As have we all,” he countered.

Miles lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t reply. Talon acknowledged he would need Miles’ support, just as he would need that of the others. Miles was fierce in battle. The thin scar under his left eye and another along his neck proof of that. It wasn’t easy living among shifters who were more pirate than civilized.

Australia had been the place where any shifter who had an issue with authority relocated after the Great War—and there had been a lot of them. While the Australia shifters were among the brightest and most innovative when it came to technology, they still had issues when it came to playing nice with others. Miles, a Greater Sooty Owl shifter, had earned every one of the salt strands in his pepper dark hair.

Hell, if I had to deal with those damn croc-shifters, I’d have lost all mine! he mused.

“Move it, Miles,” Sofia Petska demanded, playfully poking Miles in the side.

Miles whipped around, grasping Sofia’s wrist so quickly the Boreal owl screeched. Miles smiled and lifted her wrist to his lips, kissing her frantically pounding pulse. Sofia shot him a wicked smile in return.

“No worries, Sofia. It’s just dangerous to pop an Aussie,” he murmured.

“Yes, well, if the Aussie wants to keep his jewels, he might want to let go of the Canadian,” she purred.

Miles’ gaze dropped to Sofia’s other hand. He grimaced and slowly released her when she pressed the small knife in her hand against his penis. He stepped away with a grin and lifted his hands.

“I won’t even tell you how much that arouses me,” Mateo said.

Sofia turned the knife on Mateo. “Do I need to trim a few feathers, Mattie?”

Mateo laughed and winked. “I was talking about seeing Miles with his hands up, love.”

Miles shot Mateo at knowing glare. “Coward.”

“Alright, children,” Danielle Moss chided affectionately as she stepped forward and kissed him on both cheeks. “Hello, Talon.”

“Welcome, Danielle,” he said, returning her kisses with ones of his own. “You had a pleasant flight, I hope.”

“As much as I could with Miles,” she mused.

“That was a bit out of the way for you, wasn’t it?” he asked, looking at her with surprise.

She shook her head. “I was visiting for a conference when we received your message. No sense in wasting a good plane, even if it means spending more time with?—”

“Ah, love, you do know I’m still standing here, right?” Miles dryly commented.

Danielle smiled serenely over her shoulder. “Yes, love. I do know.”

Mateo slapped Miles on the shoulder and grinned. “I’m feeling the burn, mate. I think the ladies are on to us.”

“I need a drink,” Miles replied, stepping away.

“Follow me. Olive will have set up refreshments. If anyone needs to refresh themselves, you know where your rooms are. Charles will bring your luggage up after he helps my grandfather downstairs.”

The ping of an elevator opening sounded right on cue. Charles exited the elevator backwards, guiding his grandfather’s wheelchair. Thaddeus was grumbling out instructions that faded when he saw the group standing in the foyer. A large smile smoothed out the wrinkles lining his face.

“Finally. This is what we have been waiting for. Charles, the den, please,” Thaddeus instructed with an impatient wave of his hand.

“I’ll take him, Charles,” Sofia offered. “Thaddeus, you are as handsome as ever.”

Thaddeus chuckled like a little boy. “Sofia, have you put that knife I sent you to good use on Mateo yet?”

Sofia leaned down. “As a matter of fact, I tested it out on Miles just before you arrived. Mateo will be next if he isn’t careful. Thank you for that delightful memory,” she teased.

Thaddeus chuckled and patted her hand. “Anytime. Now, let’s get this meeting underway.”

Talon smiled when the others chuckled at his grandfather’s enthusiasm. The news of humans existing had given his grandfather a new lease on life. His color was better, his eyes clear and sharp, and there was an excitement in Thaddeus he hadn’t seen in years.

“Grandfather, I think it only fitting that you call the meeting to order,” he said.

Thaddeus looked up at him with shining eyes. “Thank you, my boy. Thank you.”