Free Polar Bared by Eve Langlais Page A

one trying to crawl away while screaming, “Bear! There’s a fucking bear! Someone help me.”
    Pussy. A brave man when attacking a defenseless women, but put him face to face with a real predator and his true colors emerged. As did some of the tent city occupants. Lucky for him, most stared in stunned disbelief. It wouldn’t last though. It would only take one yahoo grabbing a gun to turn this into a bigger fucking mess.
    Dropping to all four paws, Gene ignored his last target in order to return to Vicky, who lay still as a statue.
    Apparently she’d reached the end of her brave tether and slept through the resulting chaos.
    Lights came on throughout the camp as voices called to each other, the ominous words, “Get the tranquilizer gun” and “Screw that, where’s my rifle?” cropping up.
    The hill that previously hid him wouldn’t provide concealment if he tried to climb it. Sauntering through camp to exit it would probably not go unnoticed.
    What was a bear to do when faced with a bunch of panicked humans with weapons?
    Gene had just beaten a retreat into Vicky’s damaged tent, with her draped on his naked lap, when a grizzled face poked into the hole.
    His blue gaze met the brown-eyed one of a wolf. Not a word was spoken but the yells outside continued.
    “Where’s the damned bear? I’ve got a surprise for it!” hollered someone outside.
    “You can’t kill it,” yelled another. “They’re a protected species.”
    “Where did it go?” shrilled a woman.
    Gene watched the guide, ready to lunge if needed to silence him. The other male gave him a slight nod before shouting, “Everyone get back in your tents and sit tight while I scout.”
    A nod of thanks was owed for that.
    “That will give us a few minutes, long enough for you to tell me who you are,” said the older shifter.
    “No one you want to mess with,” Gene replied in a low growl.
    The whiskered fellow raised a brow. “Perhaps not, and yet, I have to question your presence here. This is my camp, and this girl is one of my charges.”
    Gene’s presence had everything to do with the Pima on his lap, not that he’d admit it out loud. But the old guy wanted an answer. “Think of me as her guardian fucking angel.”
    The fellow in charge of the camp, a role Gene had deciphered during his hours of observation, snorted. “Most vicious angel I ever met. I reckon the dead one and the one screaming bloody murder were up to no good.”
    “They were up to something all right.”
    The other man’s gaze narrowed. “I’ve heard of you. You’re the one they call Ghost.”
    Why answer when a feral smile would do the trick.
    Interestingly enough, it didn’t daunt the old coot. “Are you going to harm the girl?”
    “Wasn’t planning to.” Gene couldn’t have said what he planned other than he wouldn’t let anyone lay a finger on her with ill intent. He’d bite it off first.
    The wolf grunted. “Oddly enough, I believe you. But you can’t stay here.”
    “No shit.”
    “Neither can she.”
    Say what? “Why not?”
    The old guy gave him a look.
    “She’s an innocent,” Gene exclaimed. In more ways than one.
    “Not anymore I’d say. Whatever is going on, she’s now a part of it, and I can’t keep her safe. You need to take her away from here.”
    No, no and no. This wasn’t part of his plan. I don’t want to be saddled with her. And the old wolf couldn’t force him.
    Gene should dump her ass on the floor, get up, and walk away. The old guy couldn’t stop him. He had to be wrong. If Gene removed himself, then Vicky would…
    Dammit. The old man was right. She wasn’t safe. Not anymore. Still though, to take her with him? He didn’t need the annoyance of caring for her sweet ass. Bad guys weren’t supposed to be responsible for anyone but themselves. So he was surprised to hear himself say, “I need transportation.”
    All the arguments in the world and it boiled down to he couldn’t let her come to harm because of him.