Chapter 16
Even over the crackling, low signal phone connection, he could hear Min-Seo’s exasperation. “Shan, you know I can’t authorize that.”
“I need more resources.” He’d waited until everyone else had left the cabin for breakfast before calling his superior, but he lowered his voice anyway. “You said yourself the security of this camp was of primary importance.”
“Yes, it is. Which is why I sent you. What I can’t do is deploy another…” Tapping noises in the background, as if she was checking the email he’d sent earlier. “Eight agents? Seriously, Shan?”
“The situation has changed. We have an unknown individual, possibly a feral shifter, who appears to have been secretly living in the woods near the camp for some time. My request is proportional to the threat.”
Min-Seo sighed. “Shan, don’t you think you’re over-reacting a little?”
“No.”
“Uh-huh,” Min-Seo said skeptically. “Well, from my position, it sure sounds like it. This isn’t like you at all, Shan. You’ve handled far worse situations alone. What’s got you so worked up?”
“You don’t understand. He hurt my—”
He barely stopped himself in time. Clenching his back teeth, he took a deep breath; in through his nose, then out again.
“My co-counselor was injured,” he said, when he could trust himself to speak without snarling. “It could have been far worse. It could be a child next time, Min-Seo.”
Min-Seo sighed again. “Look, I am taking this seriously, Shan. If I could, I’d have agents patrolling that whole damn mountain.
But I simply don’t have the manpower. Or the budget.
Some of this stuff, I can do. I’ll put our best analysts to work combing over the reports from the sheriff, and there’s a local private investigator I may be able to put on the case, too.
But when it comes to actual boots on the ground, you’re all I’ve got. ”
He’d known that was the case. But he’d had to try. He rubbed the sides of his nose, massaging the sore spots. He’d worn his sunglasses so much, they’d left deep indentations in his skin.
“I’ll continue to guard the camp,” he said. “All summer, if necessary. But I don’t think there’s much more I can learn here, Min-Seo.”
“Just keep your eyes and ears open. And talk to the camp director about security. Whoever’s running around in the woods, we don’t want them getting close to the kids.” Min-Seo paused. “How are you holding up? With your… personal matter.”
“Fine,” he said shortly. “I have to go. The children are expecting me. I’ll contact you if I uncover any further information.”
He ended the call before she could press him for any further details. Letting down his breath, he looked down at his hand.
His human hand.
His nails were still black, and somewhat sharp and thick…but they were definitely fingernails, not claws. He made a fist, then stretched his fingers out, joints flexing smoothly. He hadn’t been able to do that for… how long? He couldn't even remember.
Leonie hadn’t noticed last night. He was sure of that. She would have commented otherwise. Asked what had happened. Been happy for him.
With a sigh, he reached for his gloves, pulling them on. The familiar leather felt odd against his newly bare skin. Now more than ever, he had to keep his hands covered. He couldn’t risk Leonie wondering why they’d changed.
He knew exactly why. He’d felt it the instant he’d sensed Leonie was in danger—a sudden snap of alignment, the qiongqi’s soul merging with his own.
In that moment, there’d been no cage, no chains, no control. Just her pain, and the total, all-consuming need to protect her.
HUNT. STALK. BITE. TEAR.
Even now, he wasn’t sure if the furious anger came from his animal, or himself.
He closed his eyes, counting backward from a hundred in his head.
Rampaging through the forest wouldn’t get him any closer to his prey.
In order to end this threat permanently—to protect his mate, and the children—he had to control his emotions.
Slowly, the snarling rage subsided. He rolled his shoulders, forcing knotted muscles to unclench, then slid his sunglasses into place. His eyes, at least, hadn’t changed. Even if Leonie hadn’t been an issue, he’d have had to keep them hidden in public.
He left the cabin, heading to the dining hall.
It was only halfway through breakfast, the long tables still full of campers gobbling down cereal, toast, and thick slabs of bacon.
Most of the staff were eating with the children, but he found Zephyr and Buck in a secluded corner, away from anyone else.
“Shan,” Zephyr murmured in greeting. The director cast a glance over his shoulder at the busy hall, and turned a little, putting his back to the kids’ tables. “Leonie told me what you found last night. Have you, ah, made some calls?”
“Yes.” He kept his voice low as well, though he suspected the campers were all far more interested in stuffing their faces than trying to eavesdrop on a boring staff meeting. “We are looking into it. But resources are limited. I am afraid you cannot expect additional direct support.”
Zephyr nodded. “I understand. I appreciate your continued assistance. Leonie and I are going to inform the other counselors to keep the kids in the immediate vicinity of the camp until further notice.”
“Someone’s bound to ask why,” Buck said. “And so will the kids, when they realize we aren’t letting them roam as far.”
“We’ll tell people we have some concerns about someone camping nearby,” Zephyr replied. “It’s true enough, if not the entire truth. And I’ll quietly increase the number of staff on duty at night. Shan, as our resident security expert, is there anything else we should do?”
“I will patrol the area as well, when I am not required for other duties.” He couldn’t leave Leonie to look after the kids single-handled, but that still left plenty of time in the evenings.
With the qiongqi’s restless anger seething under his skin, it wasn’t like he’d be getting much sleep anyway.
“And I want to question Alder-in-Winter again. He clearly knows more about this matter than he was willing to admit.”
“I’ve got some time free this morning,” Buck said. “I may not be able to taste lies, but I’ve smelled enough bullshit in my time to recognize when someone’s trying to feed me a steaming pile of horse apples. I’ll head over to unicorn territory and see what they know.”
“He may not be willing to talk,” Shan warned.
“Oh, the motherlover will talk.” Buck drained his mug of coffee.
“That pointy son-of-an-ass and I have never seen eye-to-eye, but I’m on pretty good terms with the lead mare up there.
When I tell Sunrise that Alder’s been keeping secrets that could threaten the herd, she’ll kick the crap out of him herself. ”
Zephyr frowned. “If Alder-in-Winter does know something about this, I don’t understand why he’d keep it from the other unicorns.
Or from us, for that matter. Nothing’s more important to him that the safety of the herd, and this is potentially as much a threat to the unicorns as to Camp Thunderbird. ”
Buck grunted. “As far as Alder’s concerned, all humans are dangerous. Probably worried that if he gets too close, we’ll corrupt him with our decadent monkey ways. Leave it with me. I’ll find out what he’s hiding.”
Zephyr said something in reply. Shan didn’t hear what, because at that moment, the door opened. Leonie strode into the dining hall, bright and energetic as ever—but as her right foot touched the ground, he saw the slightest wince of pain cross her face.
He was at her side in an instant, without any recollection of crossing the hall. Before she could take another step, he grabbed her arm, supporting her weight.
“Shan!” She tried to shake him off, unsuccessfully. “Let go. I’m fine.”
Bitter ash flooded his mouth. “You said last night that your ankle was just sprained.”
“It is just sprained.” Glancing around, she took her clipboard from under her arm, angling it as if she was showing him something. “Stop making a fuss. Someone will notice.”
She was telling the truth about her ankle. Though that didn’t make any sense. With shifter healing, she should have recovered from such a minor injury by now.
He transferred his grip to her waist, taking more of her weight. “You should not be on your feet. I’ll help you back to your cabin and tell Zephyr you’re taking the day off.”
“You will do no such thing,” she hissed through her smile. “The kids would wonder what happened last night. We don’t want rumors flying around, especially not now. It’s best to carry on as normal.”
They were already attracting attention. A few kids eyed them curiously from nearby tables.
Across the hall, half of their own pack were having a whispered consultation, casting glances in their direction.
Apparently nominated as spokesperson, Beth separated from the rest of the group, hurrying over.
“Leonie?” the girl asked, looking worried. “Why are you and Shan arguing? Is something wrong?”
“We’re not arguing, Beth,” Leonie replied. Out of sight of the kids, her fingernails dug into his arm, warning him not to contradict. “It’s all right. Everything’s fine.”
“Everything is not fine,” he said, and felt an exasperated pinch. “Leonie is hurt.”
Beth’s eyes rounded in dismay. “What? How?”
“Oh, it was my own silly fault,” Leonie said lightly. “I was out hunting last night, and an owl startled me. I jumped and twisted my ankle. No need to worry.”
Beth looked briefly relieved, but then her forehead furrowed. “But when I get a cut or a bruise, it’s always gone in a few hours. If you hurt your ankle last night, shouldn’t it be better by now?”
“Yes, it should,” Shan said. “Leonie, you need medical attention.”
“For pity’s sake.” Leonie rolled her eyes. “You’re all acting like my entire leg’s about to fall off. I’ve always healed a little slower than other shifters, for some reason. I’ll be right as rain in a day or so.”
“But in the meantime, you need to stay off your feet.” Giving in to instinct, he picked her up entirely, ignoring her startled squeak. “Beth, tell the others that we’ll be making some changes to the schedule for today.”
“Yes, sir,” Beth replied. She trotted off obediently.
Leonie was not nearly so docile. She whacked him over the head with her clipboard, trying to wriggle free. “Shan! Put me down at once.”
He tightened his grip on her, holding her closer to his chest. “No.”
She glared at him as best she could. “You are being utterly ridiculous.”
“I am your mate,” he growled under his breath, mouth an inch from her ear. “When it comes to you, I am allowed to be ridiculous.”
She stopped kicking her feet. “Oh. That’s true. The kids would expect you to lose your mind if your mate was injured.”
Hunt. Stalk. Protect. “Yes.”
“I guess a certain level of overprotectiveness is appropriate,” Leonie conceded somewhat grudgingly. She relaxed at last, laying her head against his shoulder. “Just don’t overdo it.”