His Tainted Mate (Alaskan Tails #3)

Chapter 3

RAB

The private plane carrying Rab from the Scottish Highlands to Tasmania landed as the morning sun cast a golden hue over the city of Hobart and its beautiful harbor along the River Derwent. Rab disembarked and was grateful to see a familiar face standing just outside the secure area of the airport. As they drove out to the clinic where Trudi was being treated, Hamish handed a photograph to Rab, who had to hide his reaction. Not only did the image evoke a bout of dizziness and disorientation, but he also recognized her as the woman who had been haunting his dreams and fantasies.

It was as if the photographer had reached into Rab’s mind—or perhaps his memory of a past life—and taken a picture showing her eyes, her smile, and her voluptuous curves. If he closed his eyes, he could almost swear he could detect her scent, and he wondered if he would be able to trace her path, despite the distance between Hobart and Cradle Mountain being formidable. Cradle Mountain lay on the other side of Tasmania, and the rugged terrain that lay between would have been a challenging journey. If, however, Trudi was certain of her sister’s end point, Rab was inclined to use a plane from which he could skydive into the wilderness that surrounded the mountain.

They entered Trudi’s room. She looked far worse than Rab had thought she would, but he could detect no hint of death surrounding her.

“How is she?” he asked Hamish.

“Holding her own. She made me promise to give the serum time to work.”

Rab laid his hand on Hamish’s shoulder. “You’ve got time, brother. I do not smell the taint of death near her.”

“Thank you, Rab. I was almost afraid to ask you that.”

One of the things that Rab possessed was a unique ability to smell the aura of death as it approached an individual. There had been more than one occasion that his ability to do so had told the medics who was in the most need or allowed a clan member’s family to gather close and be there when the person passed from this plane of existence to another.

“Keep a close eye on her and act while she still has strength to transition easily. I’m going to arrange for a plane to take me north to Cradle Mountain. It’ll be faster and easier.”

“From my understanding, there’s no real good place to land close to the mountain.”

Rab grinned at him. “I wasn’t planning on the plane landing. I’ll just hop out and glide my way down to the ground.”

“You’re a crazy sonofabitch,” said Hamish.

“You’re just figuring that out now?” quipped Rab. “I’m going to take this picture with me. Tell Trudi I’ll bring her sister home.”

“Thanks for coming.”

“It is my honor to do so. Take care of Trudi and leave the rest to me.”

Rab left Hamish and headed for the small private airport where there was a plane waiting to take him across the island. Once they were in the Cradle Mountain wilderness area, Rab would parachute into the area with provisions and set about finding the wayward Tasmanian devil.

Later, the roar of the plane’s engines filled the cabin, a deafening sound that seemed to vibrate through every fiber of Rab’s being. The small aircraft shuddered as it climbed higher, the world outside the windows shrinking until the landscape below was nothing but a patchwork quilt of greens, browns, and blues. Rab’s heart pounded in his chest, a mix of adrenaline and anticipation coursing through his veins. This wasn’t his first jump, but the thrill of it never diminished.

The pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom, letting Rab know they were over the designated area and he should prepare to send out the parachute with his provisions and then follow it down. Rab took a deep breath, steadying himself. He checked his gear one last time, ensuring everything was secure, and then sent it with his pack and supplies through the open door and waited for the safety line to release the provisions.

Then he re-checked that his parachute was packed correctly, the ripcord was in place, and that his altimeter was strapped to his wrist.

“Go on green,” the pilot said.

Rab nodded, feeling the plane’s vibrations through the soles of his boots. The open door to the aircraft allowed the cold air to fill the cabin, mingling with the scent of oil and metal. The noise had intensified, the howl of the wind outside mingling with the engine’s roar. Rab’s pulse quickened as he approached the open door, the void beyond beckoning.

He stepped to the edge, peering out into the vast expanse of sky. The ground was a dizzying distance below, the curvature of the Earth visible on the horizon. Rab felt the same surge of exhilaration he always did. Only skydiving could offer him the same sense of freedom, pure and unfiltered, as he felt when he shifted into his snow leopard form. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, savoring the sensation, then opened them, focused, and leaned forward, allowing gravity to take hold and whisk him away from the plane.

The transition from solid floor to freefall was instantaneous, a sensation that defied description. The wind whipped past him, a force that seemed to pull at every inch of his body. The sound of his body disrupting the air was all-encompassing, drowning out everything else.

Rab’s body settled into a stable position, arms and legs spread out to control his descent and allow him to follow the glide path of the provisions. The sensation of falling was both thrilling and surreal, a combination of weightlessness and velocity. The altimeter on his wrist ticked down, the numbers a reminder of the time he had before deploying his chute.

The world below rushed up to meet him, the details becoming clearer with each passing second. Rab felt the rush of air against his face, the pressure building as he hurtled towards the earth. Despite the speed, there was a strange sense of calm, a moment of clarity amidst the chaos. This was why he jumped—for this feeling of being alive, completely and utterly in the moment.

At the predetermined altitude, Rab reached for the ripcord, his movements practiced and precise. He pulled, and there was a brief, heart-stopping moment of silence as the parachute deployed. The canopy billowed out above him, catching the air and slowing his descent. The jolt of deceleration was sudden but welcome, a reassurance that the equipment had done its job and death would not have him today.

The growl of the wind diminished, replaced by a serene quiet as Rab drifted down. He took a moment to orient himself, checking his surroundings and where the provisions had landed. He could see the parachute and directed his own to follow. Below, the landscape stretched out, a mosaic of meadows, forests, and rivers. The sensation of floating was almost dreamlike, a stark contrast to the intense freefall just moments before.

Rab guided the parachute with practiced ease, steering towards the landing spot of his pack and supplies. The ground approached steadily, the details becoming more pronounced as he adjusted his descent. His feet touched down lightly, a controlled landing that sent a familiar thrill of accomplishment through him.

As Rab gathered his parachute and secured his gear, he couldn’t help but smile. The jump had been everything he hoped for and more. He stood for a moment savoring why he did this, why he pushed himself to the limits. For the rush, the freedom, and the sense of being truly alive. But now it was time to get to work. He needed to find Elle and bring her home.

She wouldn’t die on his watch, not if he had anything to say about it. Besides, there was another reason to find her. She was no longer just Trudi’s sister, no longer just a quarry to be found; she was his fated mate. Elle would have no need of the serum; Rab would claim her as his mate and her transition from Tasmanian devil to snow leopard would provide all the cure she needed. If she balked, he would simply tell her that the serum hadn’t survived the jump.

Rab took a deep breath, his keen sense of smell catching the crisp, clean scent of the wilderness that lay far beyond any city or village. He stowed both parachutes, loaded his pack, and adjusted it on his back, ensuring he had everything he needed: water, rations, and the serum that could potentially save Elle. Whether or not he would use it was another matter altogether.

His muscles tensed with anticipation, a primal energy coursing through him. He was not just any man; he was a tracker, and finding Elle was his destiny.

Rab moved with purpose, his strides long and steady. He had trained for this his entire life, honing his skills to perfection. His eyes scanned the ground for any sign of Elle’s passage—a broken twig, a footprint, anything that might lead him to her. He was patient, knowing that haste would only cost him time—he’d either miss something or misinterpret it.

The first day of his journey took him through the dense forests that were so characteristic of Tasmania. The scent of eucalyptus was strong, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest floor. Rab’s sharp eyes picked out the occasional wallaby, but his focus never wavered. Each step brought him closer to Elle, and he felt her presence growing stronger, an almost tangible connection that guided him. The buzzing in his head had become something he had to work to ignore, but there was some comfort in that, as he knew he was on the right track.

By evening, Rab reached a small clearing and decided to set up camp. The sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. He gathered wood and built a small fire, the crackling flames providing warmth and light. As he ate a simple meal of dried meat and bread, his thoughts drifted to Elle. He wondered where she was at that moment, if she was safe, if maybe, somehow, she was thinking of him, too.

Sleep came fitfully that night. Rab’s dreams were filled with images of Elle, memories of their past together, and the haunting feeling he might be too late even for a claiming bite to save her. He woke before dawn to find the fire reduced to glowing embers. He quickly packed up his camp, ensured the fire was out, and resumed his journey, driven by an urgency that gnawed at his insides.

The terrain grew more challenging as he neared the foothills of Cradle Mountain. The forest became denser, the underbrush thicker. Rab’s movements were careful, deliberate. He didn’t know if Elle was skilled at covering her tracks or not, but he was confident in his abilities. He had to be. For both their sakes.

The second day of his journey brought rain, a steady drizzle that soaked the forest and made the ground slippery and his clothing wet. If he hadn’t needed his pack, Rab would have ditched it and his clothes and shifted into a snow leopard. But in some ways, he welcomed the rain, knowing that it would help mask his own scent and cover any noise he might make. The rain also brought a freshness to the air, invigorating him as he pressed on.

By midday, the rain had stopped, leaving the forest glistening with droplets. Rab paused to rest and drink from a clear stream. He splashed some water on his face, the cold liquid refreshing him. As he straightened up, his eyes caught a glimpse of something—a faint trail, almost imperceptible, leading deeper into the forest. His heart quickened. It was a sign, a clue that Elle had passed this way.

Rab followed the trail, his senses on high alert. The path was faint, but it was there, guiding him like a beacon. He moved swiftly but silently, his training kicking in. Every broken branch, every displaced stone, told a story, and Rab read it with precision.

As the sun began its descent once more, Rab found himself at the edge of a vast plateau. Cradle Mountain loomed up ahead, its jagged peaks shrouded in mist. He was getting closer. He could feel it. The connection to Elle was stronger here, almost palpable.

He set up camp again, his mind racing with thoughts of the days ahead. He was close, but the most difficult part of his journey was still to come. Rab knew that Elle would not be easy to find, nor was she going to be inclined to trust or believe in him. She was resourceful and determined, but so was he.

That night, the wind howled through the trees, and Rab’s dreams were filled with the sound of Elle’s voice calling to him. He woke with a start, the fire beside him still burning low. The sense of urgency was stronger than ever. He needed to find her, to claim her, to save her.

Rab broke camp before dawn, the first light of day barely touching the sky. He moved quickly, the rugged terrain testing his endurance. The plateau gave way to rocky inclines and dense thickets. Each step was a challenge, but Rab welcomed it. The physical exertion grounded him, kept his mind focused.

As he climbed higher, the air grew colder, the vegetation sparser. The landscape was starkly beautiful, a testament to the wild, untamed nature of Tasmania. Rab paused at a rocky outcrop, taking in the view. The valley below was a sea of green, while Cradle Mountain stood tall and imposing, its peaks disappearing into the clouds.

He spotted movement in the distance—a flash of color, quickly gone. Rab’s heart leapt. It had to be Elle—it was rare to see a deep cobalt blue color in nature. He quickened his pace, descending the rocky slope with practiced ease. The connection he felt was almost overwhelming now—the buzzing deafening—but it pulled him forward with an irresistible force.

Rab reached the bottom of the slope and entered a dense thicket. The underbrush was thick, its branches snagging at his clothes. He pushed through, driven by the need to find Elle. The thicket opened up into a small clearing, and there, at the far end, he saw her.

Elle was crouched by a stream, her back to him. Rab’s breath caught in his throat. She looked thinner, more fragile than the picture he carried, but she was still Elle. The woman he had been searching for, the woman he was destined to find.

He took a step forward, and Elle stiffened, sensing his presence. She stood slowly and turned to face him. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. Rab felt a rush of emotions—relief, joy, fear. He took another step forward, but Elle shifted with the speed of light in much the way her namesake cartoon character had before vanishing into the undergrowth.