Unleashed By the Guardian (The Heart of a Guardian #4)

Chapter 1

Bear grumbled, the sound low and deep in his belly.

The birds squawked and flew straight up, a squirrel took off through the trees, and best of all, a rabbit leapt high and ran, drawing him away from her babies tucked beneath a nearby tree.

He didn’t follow. It amused him to watch the forest animals scatter at his smallest sound.

He made another sound, this time a chuff of contentment.

He rolled onto his back and scratched his rear leg against the tree.

He had an itch there. And another slightly higher up between his thighs.

There was a female nearby. One who was coming into his territory unaware that he waited for her.

He’d been tracking her for a while now and it pleased him that he would soon have his go at her.

She was not fertile yet, but his nose told him it might be soon.

He was puzzling, in his dull bear way, about the best way to catch her when a dangerous sound disturbed the morning air.

The growl of an engine. It was the call of the worst predator of all: man.

He straightened onto all fours, grumbling at the inconvenience.

He could not allow such a creature into his territory.

Not when a female was coming. So he shook out his shoulders, hips, and rump, then went off in search of the danger.

He moved with confidence over this land because it was his. He knew the rocks, the smells, and the sounds. He knew, too, that when the engine sound abruptly stopped, the danger increased. It meant that a human was out of his machine and hunting on foot.

Bear prowled closer, moving toward the structure he called his own.

He sniffed the air and caught the scent of a human woman.

It might have been pleasant if not for the acrid stink of her engine.

She was making a great deal of noise, pounding on the building and calling out.

He didn’t put any effort into processing her words.

He’d been a bear too long to want to work that hard.

Besides, it didn’t matter what she said.

This was his place and he would not allow anyone else inside his dominion.

So when she pounded her fist against the structure again, he growled, low and threatening.

She spun around and he smelled terror in her scent. She gasped and moved sideways across his vision. Not at him, but not retreating either. She made sounds, too, ones that were tight with alarm.

He decided to frighten her away.

He took a deep breath and released a roar.

Secretly, he was pleased with the full, loud sound.

It echoed in the trees and startled birds in the distance.

And when he was done, he watched for her to run away with her engine.

He would not give chase. He knew from experience that he couldn’t catch the human prey when it was surrounded in metal.

So he would remain where he was with his teeth bared until she left.

Except she did not run. She stood her ground next to his structure. Tall and proud as if she were anything but tiny compared to him.

Why would she not leave?

He needed to frighten her again. This time he matched her stance. She needed to see how small she was compared to him. He reared up on his back legs and showed his teeth. He spread his arms and let his claws flash in the sun. He was much larger than her. She should run.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Something hit him. Powerful somethings. Three times, hard in the chest. He stumbled backward, his bear mind sluggish. Pain hit next, blinding him with fury. He roared again as he struggled to regain his footing.

Bam! Bam!

His leg buckled and he went down on his face.

The ground slapped his mouth closed but he was already rolling.

Or trying to roll. Something was wrong with his breath.

The pain whited out his thoughts, though he tried to scramble to his feet.

He had to attack the human predator. He must defend his territory.

And yet his breath was wrong. The smell of blood cluttered his senses.

His feelings gave no clue beyond pain and fury.

My time, his other self said. Quickly.

There were other words, other thoughts, but the mind spoke too quickly and bear was unused to hearing it. He felt pain. He felt anger. And he felt those things being tucked away as the mind began to assert itself.

It came on like a trickle of icy water that quickly became a deluge.

It dampened the feelings, then turned everything liquid.

His emotions, his body, even his sounds became wet and fluid.

Thoughts were still too complicated to follow, but the mind knew enough, had practiced enough, to act without forethought.

He isolated the worst pain—hard points of metal—and shoved them from his body made liquid.

It was hard work to push them away. His body was too thin in this in-between place, the energy too insubstantial against something so hard.

But he worked at it, holding off the freezing of muscle and bone, until the points—the bullets—were out or at least near the surface.

He didn’t have enough time. Three bullets fell away, but two others were trapped in his human body when his cells locked into place. Bone, organs, muscle, skin—all human. All that remained liquid was the blood that flowed inside.

“Holy shit,” someone whispered. “It’s true.”

He opened his eyes. No, they were already open. He focused them now, sorting vision into colors, shapes, and meaning. A woman stood above him, a gun trembling in her hand but aimed unerringly at his heart. Her eyes were wide and her breath stuttered in and out with terror.

Someone wheezed, a sound filled with wet pain. Oh damn. He’d made that sound. His rational mind was coming online now. It was processing information with increasing speed and all the conclusions were bad.

He was lying on the ground after being shot five times.

His body still burned, overwhelmed from the sudden shift. It was all painful, so he could not tell what hurt most. He knew there were two more bullets inside him somewhere, but he couldn’t remember where. And an outsider stared at him, terrified and still dangerous.

He had to communicate with her. He had to deliver the message that was uppermost in his brain. They were bear’s words, now made intelligible by a human mouth.

“Go. Away.”

“Simon?” she whispered, the words half gasp, half squeak of terror.

Had he said the words wrong? Was her brain injured? He tried again, putting more force behind the message though it hurt his chest to do it.

“Go. Away.”

“You were a bear! I shot a bear!”

“Human.” He tried to push up, but the pain kept him from moving far. Instead, he rolled over onto his back, his breath seizing tight as bolts of agony shot through his ribs.

He focused again on his body, itemizing sensations.

His ribs weren’t broken but—damn—they ached.

The bullets. Trapped in the muscles between ribs.

Still sensitive from the shift, he could feel them as hard points inside his body.

As his human mind took more control, those sensations would dull.

He needed to remove the bullets now while he still had bear’s magic strong inside him.

“Get. Knife,” he said, his voice stronger now that he had a plan.

“What?”

“Dig. Bullets. Out.”

“I…You were a bear!” she said.

“Knife!”

She fumbled to obey, rooting into a purse that he now noticed was slung across her muscular frame. She pulled out a decent-sized Swiss army knife and popped open a blade. “Just remember, I’ve got a gun.”

He didn’t respond except to snarl as she extended the blade to him. He had to fully stretch out his arm to get it, and the movement made him hiss with pain. But a part of him admired that she was smart enough to keep back.

He palmed the blade, adjusted it, then reached down to feel where the bullets lodged between ribs. This was going to hurt.

“What are you doing?” she asked. Her tone told him she knew exactly what he was going to do, but couldn’t believe it.

Neither could he. But the window was fading on his keen physical awareness. He had to cut the bullets out now. So he did, starting with the one pressed on the inside of his left floater rib. He sliced down precisely, releasing his breath in a slow hiss of pain.

“That’s not sterile!” she cried. He hadn’t the focus to comment. The good news was that shifters on a whole had really good immune systems.

It sucked to dig around with his fingers to get the bullet. He managed it, though it stole his breath and made him weak with pain. He dropped the bullet and his whole arm to the ground with a grunt of disgust.

One more.

He narrowed his focus, but the bullet was higher on his chest, just on the inside of his right nipple. He’d have no dexterity to use his right hand. The pectoral muscle would move the bullet around while he worked, and he didn’t think he could do this one-handed.

He opened his eyes. “You. Now.”

“What?”

“Bullet. Here.” He pointed, and her eyes widened on horror.

“Hell, no! Jesus, just call a doctor!” Then she grimaced. “Call 911. Why the hell didn’t I call 911?”

“You. Shot me.”

“You were a bear!”

He looked at her, not even bothering to hide his fury.

And he knew his silence challenged her because they both knew no one would believe he’d been a bear.

Though there were as many as a million shifters in the United States, their existence was a closely guarded secret.

He’d probably get into serious trouble for changing in front of her, but he had to survive first.

“Help. Me,” he said, panting the words because of the pain.

She stared at him slack-jawed, her cell phone clutched in her fingers. His rational mind told him that anger wasn’t getting him anywhere, so he moderated his tone.

“I’ll show you. Bullet. Pretty close.” He focused on her face and tried to smile. “I’ll heal.”

“W-what?”