Polar Opposites

Jonah stood at the open doorway.

TJ read the man’s intentions in his eyes. “Watch over Donovan.”

Jonah inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Then, I’m going hunting.”

Nothing and no one escaped Jonah on a hunt. Yet, this hunter had before and TJ worried he’d do it again.

“Godspeed.” The doors to the ambulance closed before TJ could say anything further.

Five hours later, TJ lifted his hand in greeting to Jonah, watched the man walk off, and turned his attention to Donovan’s door. He rapped lightly, knowing Donovan was still up. He’d called earlier to make sure.

Worn completely out both physically and emotionally, TJ had considered going home to crash. Instead, he found himself making a beeline for Donovan’s house, needing to see him again. Hold him. To assure himself that Donovan was alive and well. Silly, but he knew sleep wouldn’t happen until he saw Donovan.

The door opened, revealing Donovan dressed in loose sweats and nothing else. His six-pack abs, with their hills and valleys, drew TJ’s attention. “Come on in.” He waved his arm.

TJ didn’t have to be asked twice. He strolled in, checked out the furniture options, and went with the small sofa. Sitting down, he sighed wearily.

Donovan shut and locked the door behind him before closing the distance. “You look like crap.”

“Thanks.” TJ closed his eyes, rested his head back and kicked his tired mind into gear.

“I—”

“Wait. Let me get you something to drink. Maybe a snack, too. Then you can tell me.” Donovan hurried into the kitchen.

TJ rested while he waited. Within just a few minutes, Donovan returned with a glass of soda in one hand and a sandwich in the other. TJ accepted both. Took a big gulp, devoured the meal in three bites, and washed it down with the rest of the drink.

“Good grief.” Donovan took his empty glass. “You’re starving. I’ll make you another sandwich.”

TJ shook his head. “Don’t bother. I’m full. Another drink would be great, though.”

“Coming right up.” Donovan wasn’t gone long before bringing it back and handing it over. “Okay, big guy. You said something on the phone about staying out of the woods. So, spill.”

TJ drew in air. “Remember I’d told you about a hunter on my land?”

“Yeah.” Donovan sat down in the nearby recliner, the same one TJ had helped him bring inside.

“He shot at something or someone that first day we met. I tracked him, but didn’t find much. Just a shell casing. For a bullet big enough to take down a bear.”

Donovan rested his elbows on his knees, steepled his fingers, and pressed them under his chin. “It’s grizzly country, or so you keep reminding me. I’m sure he’s not the first that wants to kill a huge bear and get him stuffed.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. But he was cleaner than most hunters. Neater. Didn’t just tromp through the woods like others do.”

“So, he’s a former military or a cop. Maybe a guy who’s been living off the land his whole life. Someone who’s had surviving in the wilderness ingrained into them.”

TJ took another drink and turned to peer into Donovan’s face. “Jonah checked it out. Didn’t really find much, either. He called me earlier tonight. One of the wolf shifters from a few miles away had been shot. Same caliber of bullet.”

Donovan frowned. “Why would someone use bear ammo to take out a wolf?”

“That seems to be the question of the night.” TJ set his drink down on the coffee table and scrubbed his face. “Come to find out, some of the mountain lion shifters had been shot at as well. No one reported it to the other groups. And, no one has been able to track this idiot, either.” He stared at Donovan, waiting for his reaction.

“Are you sure he’s human? Targeting shifters would take someone who could identify them in either form.”

TJ nodded. “We don’t know how. The scents all of us picked up were definitely human. Yet, no one has found any evidence of him hunting the wildlife. Only shifters.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“I know.” TJ rolled his shoulders to try to ease the tension collected there. “It’s damn scary.”

“For humans to know about us, hell, yes. To know there’s someone out there trying to take us out. That’s just as bad if not worse.” Worry filled his eyes. “You said only the one wolf had been hit?”

“Yeah. Trent. Hit in the lower leg. It’s a damn mess. I recommended it to be amputated. He begged not to.” TJ ran one hand through his hair. “I have no idea if the orthopedic surgeon in Cheyenne will be able to save it, but it’s worth a shot, however small the likelihood.”

“Poor guy.”