Page 5 of Shifter Mate Magic

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Trevor Hammond didn’t think of himself as a violent man, but at that moment, with the woman his bear insisted was his true mate leaving him in a dwindling dust cloud, he wanted to go back behind the store and kick more drunk-coyote ass.

He could not have screwed up the first meeting with his mate any more if he’d tried. If he was honest, he had to admit he’d doubted he’d ever find a mate, considering his bear was one of a kind. Aunt Straya, who had raised him, had always told him to trust in the moon goddess, and be ready, but who would ever expect to run into his entirely human mate in an all-night truck stop known for its shifter customers?

He’d tracked a tantalizing smell and almost bowled her over with his carelessness. Then her overwhelmingly nuanced and fascinating scent had lit up every cell in his body. Mate, his bear had growled, then ordered him to lick her and claim her right there in the lunch-meat aisle. His human side pointed out she was likely already mated, since she was pregnant and carrying the daughter of some sort of feline shifter. His bear countered that she didn’t have a mate bond or smell mated, and no shifter would willingly leave his pregnant mate unprotected. And while he was arguing with himself, and hadn’t even gotten out a coherent sentence, the tall, diffident woman had left him.

And to top it off, instead of going after her, he’d retreated to the back alley to get control of himself and come up with an approach that wouldn’t scare the life out of her. Because the second and third things he’d finally noticed were the sour taste of her fear and the submissive body language. Someone had conditioned his proud, strong, stunningly beautiful mate into outward displays of obeisance. He’d paced off his anger in the alley behind the dumpsters while racking his brain for something better to say to her than “Wanna see my truck?”

To his shame, he hadn’t immediately noticed that the problem in the alley involved her. Shifters often went out back to scuffle. Otto, the owner, fined or banned anyone who disturbed the peace inside, and no one wanted to be gored or stomped by an oversized, pissed-off Texas-longhorn bull shifter.

All it took was for a woman’s voice to shout “No” for his bear to take control and shift. Thank the goddess his magic took care of his clothes. His bear had recognized what his human part should have, the presence of his mate. He bounded toward the trouble in time to see her use a magic weapon on the attacker, and another coyote joining the attack.

He roared his rage and brought the fight to them. Two drunks were no match for a mad bear defending his mate. They were lucky he hadn’t maimed or killed them. He’d managed to gain enough control to warn his bear that the deaths would scare his mate even more than she already was. And then he’d had to let her ride off on her motorcycle alone, or he’d be as bad as the mangy coyotes.

The only good things that came out of their first meeting were that he now knew her name, he’d found out she really was unmated despite being pregnant with a shifter baby, and she’d taken his card.

But he could feel in the depths of his soul, through the potential connection already forming between them, she was in deadly trouble and needed his help. Which she wouldn’t take, because she didn’t know or trust him, and she deeply disliked shifters.

He couldn’t say he was fond of them, either, at that moment. Humans with shifter-mate potential were meant to be wooed and cherished, since they helped ensure the longevity and genetic diversity of all shifter species, even whatever kind of bear his was. Jackie was so much more than the door prize for lame-ass wolf wannabes, or the catnip play toy of whatever lowlife feline had gotten her pregnant and abandoned her.

He went back into the truck stop long enough to warn them about the naked numbskulls out back and buy extra food, then he climbed into the cab of his rig and pulled out his Nebraska maps. He’d worked long hours to pay off the bank loan on his truck six months before. And since it also served as his home, he’d been using his more recent profits to trick it out with improvements and creature comforts.

The best investment had been the built-in cellular phone, which paid for itself in making him much faster at responding to hauling opportunities and notifying shippers about delays. Rural coverage was nonexistent, but big cities were putting up cell towers every day. Now he was doubly thankful, because it was his only mundane-world connection to Jackie.

He didn’t know how to use his spotty magic to tell him anything about her, other than it felt like she was headed due east, probably on Interstate 80 toward Nebraska. Now he wished he’d practiced with his magic more diligently, like his aunt had nagged him about, instead of only using it for small tricks to win bar bets.

His half-load was furniture, and wasn’t due for three days, but it was bad for business to drive due east when his destination was supposed to be north. He figured he could be one day late, but then he’d have to give up the load to someone else. There would always be another load, but there might never be another mate.

He drove to the I-80 entrance ramp and headed toward Nebraska. Night fell fast once he got beyond the city lights of Cheyenne, and past the stench of the refineries east of town. He had no idea how humans tolerated it, except that in Wyoming, oil was gold.

Every motorcycle he saw made his bear surge forward, but the rider was never the brown jacket and flaming-skull helmet he was looking for. He wished he’d asked where she was going. Motorcycles traveled faster than his truck but took a lot more active attention. Truckers drove long hours, but bikers fatigued more quickly. He hadn’t missed the faint shadows under her beautiful brown eyes.

He usually listened to music while he drove, but he was too worried about Jackie, and too worried about horrible possibilities. For the first time in his thirty-six years, he had something to lose that meant more to him than anything, and it terrified him. Maybe she and the father of her baby hadn’t parted willingly, and he was searching for her to claim her as his mate. Maybe whatever she was running from was more than one bear could handle. Maybe he’d make a rotten mate because he was so very young compared to other shifters, who lived centuries. Maybe she’d never get over her prejudice against shifters.

The ringing of his cellular phone nearly made him leap out of his seat. He reduced his speed and pulled into the right lane, then answered the call using the hands-free speakers he and an electrician friend had rigged.

“Trevor, what are you doing?”

“Aunt Straya? Are you okay?” She disliked phones in general, and only used them for emergencies.

“That’s what I called to ask you.”Cellular phones were a modern miracle, but they made everyone sound like they were in the bottom of a well.“Auris came pounding on my door, wailing about signs and portents. I thought she’d been sampling the fairy moondew again, but she’s sober as a judge.”No one knew what Auris was running from, and she was more than a bit of a drama queen, but his aunt didn’t discriminate against the lost and unwanted who found their way into her woods.

“What did she say?” asked Trevor.

“That you and your mate need to find sanctuary before the full moon, or your blood will paint the canyons. What’s this about a mate, and why do I have to hear it from Auris?”To his aunt, the news about a mate would be much more important than the threat on his life.

He suppressed a frustrated noise. “It’s complicated.” He told her about the disastrous first meeting and what little he knew.

“You always did pick the hardest path up the mountain.”Trevor rolled his eyes. He preferred peace and quiet, but the fates seemed to have other plans for him.“Best you get yourself and your woman to Kotoyeesinay as soon as you can. Ask for sanctuary the moment you cross the glade’s border. The elves will hear you.”

“I will.”

“Bring her here, afterward. I want to meet the woman who has your measure.”

Trevor gave an audible growl. “I will not. You’ll show her your photo album, and she’ll laugh at me the rest of my life.”

“You need laughter. Drive safe.”As usual, when his aunt was done talking, she simply hung up.