Bending Steele by Sadie Hart Page A

poachers didn’t normally try and nab a
shifter, let alone trek through mountains like these to get an
elusive snow leopard. Too many people considered them still human.
Hell, back home they had laws and their own personalized police
force. Everything to make shifters sound human. But at
heart, they were animals.
    As far as Jacks was concerned, they were
animals too. And no one gave a rat’s ass if you shot a rabbit.
These just paid better than the average hunt. Jacks could only
remember two of these furs hitting the market in the past thirty
years. And one of them had been his.
    Another pair back then too, but the male had
gotten away.
    A shame. The males had the bigger pelts and
therefore the bigger price tags. Not that he could whine over the
score he’d made from the female. He’d traveled the world on that
paycheck. Set himself up nicely. Met his wife. About time
everything came full circle now. A grin slashed his face as he
hiked through the calf-deep snow, the cold slowly nibbling down to
his bones.
    Back aching, Jacks studied the prints and
labored after them. She’d run in long, leaping bounds as she’d come
up over the edge of the cliff, but a good fifty feet in and she’d
shifted, her strides shortening to the booted foot tracks of a
woman on the run. She wove through the forest and he could see
where she’d stumbled, thrashing through snow banks and over ferns
bent heavy with ice.
    Slipping on his snowshoes, he plowed after
her. Careful to keep quiet, Jacks strained to hear over the wind
rattling through the old pines. Cold needles scraped at his face as
he did his best to angle his way through the darkness without
snaring himself on various branches. A voice sounded in the
darkness and he paused, head tilted.
    “Steele, you good?”
    “Fine.”
    Jacks sank low, crouching, instantly swinging
his rifle around until it fit comfortably in place. Ready.
    Snow crunched, followed by a rustle of fabric
and then more sharply, “I’m fine.”
    The woman drew in a shaky breath, belying her
words, and Jacks scanned the shadows for the source of movement and
sound. There . Just a shade darker than the trees. The pair
of them stood close together, male and female. Jacks licked his ice
chapped lips. This high into the mountains he couldn’t think of a
reason for anyone else to be up here… Anyone except the leopard
shifters.
    A thrill darted down his spine. He’d thought
he’d hit the jackpot before. Eyeing them through the scope, there
was a large chance he wouldn’t be able to kill both... Not without
the other fleeing. And he’d waste a pelt if he shot them now. Human
skin didn’t sell at all.
    And Jacks hated to waste shit worth more than
the average house.
    Besides, there was no guarantee they were
shifters. He’d never heard of so many of these cats in one spot.
The only shifter family he’d ever heard of doing mass gatherings
were certain packs of werewolves on a full moon, but their pelts
were fairly common. These cats though? He’d hunted for years to
find his first, going off myths and legends. Even this time, Jacks
had scouted terrain and maps for months before choosing this place.
He’d studied the habits of wild snow leopards, looked at the type
of area he’d found his first one in...and used up a whole lot of
luck.
    The chances of finding four cats in one
night? More than astronomical.
    A frustrated sigh sounded in the dark. Then,
“Let’s just find this bastard.”
    But if they were...
    No. There was no way. There had to be another
explanation. Jacks shouldered his rifle and waited for them to
pass. They didn’t so much as glance his way in the swirling wind. A
leopard would have caught his scent, surely even as distracted as
they were.
    With a huff into the now silent dark, Jacks
continued after his prey. One predator after another.
     
    ***
     
    Steele pulled away, angling herself so her
back was to Hexe. Damn him. How had he managed to get that
confession out of her? She blew out a