knew they wouldn’t have emptied out the club to comb it for scent if everything
was fine.
The hall that led to the back door behind the kitchen was full of conflicting odors.
The human workers and many Shifters had been this way, and one of the humans had dragged
a large amount of garbage out here.
Cormac opened the heavy back door and led the way outside. The frigid air struck Nell,
seeming even colder after the overheated club than it had on the snowy mountain.
Plenty of people had come this way as well, including the human with the garbage.
The scent trail of bathroom and bar trash blazed brightly to the Dumpster, so brightly
that Nell had to turn away from its obvious path and concentrate on the less intense
scents.
Cormac crouched down and examined something on the broken asphalt. A feeble light
above the back door didn’t help much.
“What is it?” Nell asked.
“Not sure.” Cormac stood up and scanned the now mostly empty parking lot. “I’m going
to go bear. I can scent better.”
“Makes sense.”
“Want to join me?”
“No,” Nell said. Her bear wasn’t as sensible as Nell in human form, at least when
it came to males. She might find Cormac irresistible and do something stupid like
agree to curl up with him for the rest of her life. “I can think better in this form.”
“Suit yourself. But I bet I’d love your bear.”
“Don’t say I’ll be sexy.”
Cormac’s grin widened. “I’ll keep it to myself then.”
He toed off his boots as he spoke, then stripped out of his leather coat and shirt
beneath. He didn’t flinch from the January air, but unbuckled his pants and slid them
off, letting his underwear follow.
He was breathtaking. Nell didn’t pretend not to look as Cormac straightened to his
full height under the yellowish glow of the back-door light. Shadows played on his
tall, naked body, and the light glistened on his unshaved whiskers and dark hair.
He was a beautiful man, full of strength.
Cormac stretched his arms above his head, and let his bear take over.
***
Cormac always wondered how humans could stand seeing the world from only one perspective.
Maybe that’s why they had such short lives, and why so many lived those short lives
in misery. Wouldn’t hurt humans to be able to see things from an animal’s point of
view once in a while.
The power of the bear flowed through him, giving Cormac confidence in strength. He
was very aware of Nell standing near him in her slinky dress under the weak light.
Aware of the warmth of her, and the scent of a woman who’d found pleasure this night.
The light haloed her, as though the Mother Goddess touched her. His bear didn’t feel
the erotic connection to her as he had in human form, but Cormac saw to the heart
of her—a strong woman who’d endured much and yet never let it break her.
He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
But if something had truly happened to Shane, Nell would spend the rest of that life
grieving. Cormac could not let that happen.
He butted Nell with his head, and she gave his back a stroke. She didn’t hide what
was in her eyes, which she tried to do when they were both in human form. She was
scared, and she was vulnerable, but she was also determined.
Cormac put his head down to sniff what had puzzled him. At Nell’s feet, the patch
of asphalt had long since broken and never been repaired. In the dry gravel, he’d
scented a drop of something he couldn’t place.
His bear nostrils widened as he sniffed, and gravel dust went up his nose. He sneezed,
but in that moment, he understood the scent.
Tranquilizer.
The tiniest drop, which might have fallen from a hypodermic. A shot from a tranq rifle
might be heard, even over the din of the club. But someone coming up to an unsuspecting
Shane and sticking a needle into him—that would make no noise. The perpetrator could
have done it in the hall, or right here outside the back
Robert Asprin, Lynn Abbey