Dark Dawning (Totem Book 1)
Christine Rains
DARK DAWNING
TOTEM #1
Christine Rains
Dark Dawning (Totem #1)
Christine Rains | Copyright 2016
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events, or occurrences is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Tagline: It’s a dark day when someone murders one of their own.
Summary: Shifters across Alaska are going missing. When up and coming interior designer Ametta Dorn rescues the gorgeous Kodiak shifter Lucky Osberg, she comes into the crosshairs of two relentless hunters. While Lucky sets his sights on wooing her, the killers seek to not only capture her in her powerful polar bear form but to also take her skin.
To prevent her murder and the deaths of other shifters, she must work with Lucky to track down and stop these merciless hunters. After all, their enemy’s plan for shifter skins is something much more terrifying than collecting mere trophies.
Cover design by Christine Rains
All photos came from BigStock. Ametta model – Photographer: kjekol. Background – Photographer: nature78. Frost – Photographer: Rafinade. The bear paw for the chapter headings was Christine’s design.
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To Drew and Jonathan Scott,
and your countless hours of home renovation shows.
Thank you for inspiring the Dorn sisters.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Totem Series
Where to Find Christine Rains Online
Other Works by Christine Rains
Untethered Realms
Acknowledgments
About the Author
There’s nothing worse than working with a couple who was colorblind. Except one who refused to admit it.
Ametta drew in a slow breath and discreetly released it. Keeping her temper with clients wasn’t always this difficult. Yes, she’d dealt with indecisive and uncooperative folks before, but they’d been standing around the damn table for two and a half hours now.
Oh, she could have had the Meyers sit, but she’d arranged the interior design boards for each room in their house around the humongous oak table. They moved from one to the next and discussed paint, wallpaper, drapery, etc. Every tiny detail. A task which normally calmed her, but today, it left her head pounding.
“I still like the red accents for the main sitting room. With the yellow patterned wallpaper here. The floral design is really eye catching.” Leanne Meyer tapped the flowery swatch, but then pursed her lips and shook her head. Her dry brown hair threatened to topple out of its bun. “No, maybe this wallpaper here. More subtle with its ivy.”
“I’m fond of the ivy too.” Goren, Leanne’s husband, grunted his reply. The big man leaned against the dining room wall and frequently glanced at the door.
Goodness knows that Ametta wanted to escape too. Neither Goren nor Leanne could see red. Shifters of their type needed more contrasting shades of neutral colors, especially since they had poor depth perception as well. She didn’t want anyone walking into a wall or stumbling over a step.
Uncertainty irritated Ametta. Be calm. She gritted her teeth. Work with them. It was better for business. And her life was the renovation business.
“I agree the ivy paper would look spectacular covering the room’s big wall. Sophisticated.” That was the magic word, which usually convinced her clients to go in a direction she liked. “I have here various shades of violet to add to the décor which won’t take away what that paper will do for the room.”
“Ooh, like this one? I like this one.” Leanne plucked a card from the pile with samples of oranges on it.
Did the woman even think to read it? Tangerine Dream and Ocean Sunset clearly weren’t shades of violet.
Ametta clasped her hands in front of her and squeezed tight. Patience didn’t come easy to her. It wasn’t as if she had all the time in the world like this old cow. No, no. That wasn’t nice. Though, technically it was true since the Meyers could turn into cattle. Herd animal shifters were much more common than anyone believed.
“I was thinking more Wistful Wisteria or—” Before Ametta could pick up the sample, Paul barreled into the room. Or Chadwick. Or… one of the Meyers’ several sons.
The young man huffed, red in the face, and pointed toward the rear of the house. “In the field. A bear.”
All eyes turned toward Ametta.
“Are you expecting anyone?” Goren frowned.
What? Did they presume she knew who it was since she was a polar bear shifter? Common bears were not related to bear shifters. It was likely a grizzly drawn to their farm for the beehives or chickens or whatever else they had out there. They owned nine hundred acres of valuable Alaskan farmland with over seventy members of their herd living on the property.
The Meyers were rich. Very rich. They had important connections. Ones to which a referral would be priceless.
“No, I’m not. Perhaps we should go see what the problem is.” Ametta gestured to the door, and the men raced toward the threat. Thankfully the china was stored in a different room.
“I’ll just stay here… and look over the samples, Miss Dorn.” Staring at the table, Leanne shifted from foot to foot.
The first mention of bears and the woman couldn’t even look at her. Ametta nodded, more to herself than Leanne. As long as Ametta was petite and cute, people loved her. But mention her animal side and everyone backed away. What did they think she’d do? Maul them and raid the pantry?
She exited the undecorated dining room and hurried through the massive kitchen to the back door. The bear was in the pasture to her right. And she was wearing her Stuart Weitzman pumps. Fantastic.
Ametta cursed to herself as she crossed the yard and followed the sounds of men shouting. Why were they afraid of a single bear anyway? There were a dozen bulls working at the farm. No matter her strength as a bear, she’d rather not mess around with one angry horned beast.
Her heels sank more into the soft ground the farther she walked. She refused to take them off. She’d not be seen as some bare-footed country bumpkin.
Past the barn and a tall Douglas maple with a lone raven perched on top, Ametta spied the bull shifters forming a loose circle around a brown furry hulk in the field. Three of the Meyers had shotguns pointed at the bear. Her heart thumped a little harder. No, please don’t let things go that way.
Running closer, she saw the bear was a Kodiak and stumbling from side to side on all fours. He behaved as if he were drunk. And yes, definitely a male. Not that she was looking at those parts. It was the smaller ears, thick neck, and huge cranium that told her it was a he.
Her nose twitched as she neared them. A mature male.
&
nbsp; One of the Meyers stepped closer, stomped on the ground, and yelled at the animal. The Kodiak reared up and roared. Her eardrums shook with his bellow. The golden brown fur of his belly was matted with blood. A small wound pumped a fresh gush out.
He was hurt. Someone had already shot him.
“Stop!” Ametta kicked off her shoes.
The men didn’t hear her. Shotguns were cocked and fingers twitched on the triggers. One of the younger bulls shouted that he would shoot.
“No!” Ametta sprinted toward the brash gunman. She knocked him to the side, and his shot went upward. Paul or Chadwick or whoever grabbed her arm, but she yanked herself away to approach the Kodiak.
“Hold your fire. I have this.” She held her hands up, waving them until the bear turned his head toward her. Nearer to him, she could smell the blood. So much blood.
He snarled, spittle spraying from his lips, and fell forward onto all fours again. Not because he wanted to either. His body trembled. There was no question that he was barely maintaining his grasp on consciousness.
“Don’t growl at me. I’m here to help you. Smell me.” Ametta took another step closer. Only four feet away from those powerful jaws. Uneasiness threatened to envelope her, but she shoved it off.
Was she certain he wouldn’t try to take a bite out of her? Nope, but if he did, she could transform in a heartbeat. While he was bigger than her bear, he was wounded, and she’d use that to her advantage.
The Kodiak’s nostrils flared. He whimpered and lurched toward her. Everyone behind them was silent. All she could hear was the big bear’s panting.
He pressed his nose to her left palm and licked her. His enormous tongue slid between her fingers. Absolutely disgusting, but a good sign. He recognized her as a bear. A friendly, female bear.
“That’s a good boy. It’s all right. Let me help you.” Ametta stroked his soft head and moved to block his view of most of the men. Let him focus on her and forget the other males. He’d feel less threatened.
She let out a yelp as the Kodiak toppled over on his right side. He groaned and reached for her with a paw.
No, a hand. He was a shifter. A great big hunky shifter with a fresh wound on his side.
His hand grasped hers. The pained glaze in his tawny colored eyes flickered to something else for a few seconds. “Help… me.”
The last word was barely out of his mouth when he passed out.
Ametta helped the Meyers as they carried the stranger to the barn and set up a cot to lay him on. They couldn’t have him in the house in case he shifted, and calling the paramedics was out of the question. She knew a werewolf doctor in Juneau, but it would take hours for him to fly out here. Instead she called her sisters, Kinley and Saskia, and bandaged his injuries the best she could as she waited.
The Meyers claimed no one shot the Kodiak, but who would admit it once they found out he was a shifter? She wanted to transform and rip off every hand that held a gun. To hell with her family’s business. Some idiot couldn’t keep his head and nearly killed this poor guy.
Goren and two of his sons stayed with her. Huffing and pawing at the ground, they paced the length of the huge barn, as if they were already in their bull forms. They kept their guns and muttered amongst themselves.
One of the sons finally stalked over to her. “He ain’t staying here tonight. What if he shifts?”
And eats you? Ametta kept her seething comment to herself. “Don’t worry. I have it covered.”
The young man snorted and returned to his father’s side to tell him what she said. As if Goren didn’t hear himself. She rolled her eyes and considered the situation.
The Kodiak might heal fast enough to be able to go home, but there was a chance he would still be unconscious when her sisters arrived. Then what? Take him home with her? Not going to happen. Her townhouse in Anchorage wasn’t that big. But they were closer to Wasilla where Saskia lived.
Sitting on the stool, she leaned forward with one leg crossed over the other. She regarded the gorgeous stranger and rested her hands on her knee. Her silk blouse and skirt were caked with blood and mud. But it mattered little when it came to the safety of one of her own kind.
Where did he come from? And what was he doing there? No bear shifter would dare hunt near a ranch. Trigger happy farmers like these ones shot first and asked questions later. And she’d risked her business with the Meyers stepping in the middle.
All for this guy. Burly like a wrestler with hair on his chest and scruff on his chin. His strong jaw squared off a ruggedly handsome face with a clean scar behind his left ear. A tattoo of a shield and ax sat upon his right upper arm. He had thick long legs and an even thicker… yup. She had to look, didn’t she?
The gunshot hole was on his upper left side. It had missed his ribs and hopefully any organs. It’d stopped bleeding, but there was no exit wound. Not good.
Outside of the barn, Ametta was contemplating calling her father when her sisters finally arrived forty-five minutes later. She let out a long breath as a little bit of weight lifted from her shoulders. Saskia’s damn truck roared as if it were a hungry lion. Ametta could hear it a mile away. Was it too much to ask her to put a muffler on that thing?
Kinley hopped out of the truck before Saskia turned off the engine. She jogged over to smile and shake hands with Goren and his sons. Her glasses made her wide eyes look even bigger as her gaze darted to Ametta and the injured man inside on the cot.
Saskia didn’t hurry as she slammed the door of her truck. She spoke with the men in a low voice. It might have been an interrogation or just a bunch of guys talking to one another.
Both her sisters equaled the men in height, and the Meyers didn’t breed small males. If Ametta wanted to touch any of them on the top of the head, she’d have to stand on her tiptoes and stretch. And while she hated to feel little, she’d used it to her advantage with clients. Less intimidated clients meant for more cooperative ones.
Now if that would only work with her family.
Kinley was the first to hurry over and covered her mouth as she eyed Ametta. “My god. Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. It’s not my blood.” And it would never come out of her clothes.
“I brought you a bag with a change of clothing. What happened? Is the guy all right?” Kinley handed Ametta a duffle bag and pushed her glasses up her nose. She was dressed in a Firefly tee and jeans with patches. Her white blond hair was tied up in a messy ponytail. If she had been working, Ametta couldn’t tell. Kinley rarely wore anything other than jeans and a tee.
Thank God for her smart, sweet sister. “Thanks. He’s—”
“In there.” Saskia walked swiftly past them both into the barn. “Couldn’t you smell him, Kin? I could before we even got out of the truck.”
Kinley’s lips thinned, but she didn’t say anything. Ametta, on the other hand, had no qualms about talking back. She turned and walked to where the stranger lay. “Yes, we know you can smell bloody meat from miles away. Likely you thought of dinner when you did.”
Saskia glared over her shoulder with near black eyes. Anyone else might quake in their boots under Saskia Dorn’s harsh gaze. She stood at six foot one, had over a dozen tattoos, and hard but lean muscles from her work as a carpenter. Her eldest sister had just as much bite as she did bark, but so did Ametta.
“You sure something didn’t crack you in the head, Mett? ’Cause surely you aren’t trying to pick a fight when we came all this way to help you.” Saskia put her hands on her hips.
“I wasn’t until you snapped at Kin.” Ametta folded her arms and matched her glare. Had it only been three days since Sunday dinner when their father told them to take their fight out into the yard? It felt like it had been earlier today with the tension in the air.
Ametta wanted more in life than Alaska. She dreamed of taking their home renovation business to the whole continent and then the world. Dorn Pararenovations had a unique angle: they catered specifically to supernatural beings to help wit
h their unusual needs in a home. It was brilliant! Saskia handled the demolition and carpentry, Kinley was the architect, and Ametta was the interior designer. She imagined teams all over the globe, and Ametta, the CEO, would be able to pick and choose which jobs she wanted to work.
Her family desired nothing outside the Great White North. Ametta refused to give up on her dreams, though. If she had to go it alone, she would, and it was with that statement Sunday’s fight broke out.
“It’s okay, guys. Let’s just focus on the situation at hand. Do we know who he is?” Kinley knelt beside the unconscious shifter.
“No clue. But he was definitely shot, and the Meyers said it wasn’t them.” Ametta breathed out her frustration and pulled back the blanket covering him to reveal his wound. “I bandaged him up as well as I could. There’s no exit wound.”
“Fuck. Then we need to get the slug out of him as soon as we can.” Saskia retrieved a knife from her back pocket and cut off the blood stained bandages. “A Kodiak, right? I don’t know him, so he isn’t from around here. Probably from down south on the island. Dad might know, though. Give him a call, Mett. Kin, I need you to help me get this bullet out.”
“Maybe we should all help with this. He might wake and freak as we’re doing it.” Kinley settled herself across from Saskia and gathered the discarded bandages, piling them on the ground.
Better than calling Dad at the moment. Ametta loved him, but the old man was pissed she wanted to leave Alaska. She nodded and settled at the top of the cot by the shifter’s head. He had a little more color now than before. Their kind healed faster than humans, but the amount of blood he’d lost would keep him in bed for at least a few days.
Kinley tilted her head as she peered at his tattoo. “He’s a fireman.”
“What?” Ametta blinked.
“Look. His tattoo. It’s an emblem. And there’s a department number on it.”
Why hadn’t Ametta recognized it? It was clear to her what it was now. She should have studied it more thoroughly rather than staring at his… face. God, she must look like an idiot.
