Zander kept his head bent over his task, his braids falling to touch the line. He was pulling the snarl every which way, succeeding in tangling it further.

Rae unstrapped the sword from her back. She’d been carrying it all day and it was getting heavy.

Never let it out of your sight, Eoin had told her. Not for an instant, not when you bathe, not when you sleep.

Do I have to take it with me to pee? Rae had asked crossly.

Yes. Eoin’s look had been stern. You can drape a towel over it if you don’t want it watching.

Rae had laughed but the thing really did seem to be watching her—always. Made her shudder.

She sat down on the deck across from the tangle and set the sword in its sheath next to her. She reached for the line.

“Here,” Rae said, not looking at Zander. “Let me.”

CHAPTER THREE

Zander glanced at Rae’s bowed head, her black hair twined into a neat, slick braid, her jeans smoothed over her thighs, sweater with a cowl to keep out the chill wind. She drew the line into her lap with capable hands and began competently untangling it.

“I told you not to touch anything,” Zander growled.

Rae looked up at him with eyes as gray as dawn clouds. “It’s fishing line. Get over it.”

Zander clamped his mouth shut. Rae bent over the task again, fingertips loosening and smoothing out the tangles.

What the fuck was Zander supposed to do with her? Train her, Eoin and Kendrick had both said. To fight, Kendrick had said. Keep her safe, Eoin had almost begged him. Almost. Shiftertown leaders didn’t beg. But Eoin’s meaning had rung loud and clear.

“I know damn all about being a Guardian,” Zander said, watching her.

Rae didn’t look up. “I don’t know anything about it either.”

Goddess, why the hell had Eoin left this female alone with him? Zander wasn’t celibate. Why would a Shifter leave his cub, even a foster cub, alone with a messed-up healer?

Answer—because Eoin would kill Zander if he so much as touched her. Kendrick would kill Zander as well. And this little angel would stick the Sword of the Guardian into Zander and he’d be dust motes on the wind.

Zander didn’t know what the hell to say to her. He wasn’t usually this tongue-tied. He found it easy to talk to women in bars, often ending up taking one back to his cabin, boathouse, boat—wherever he happened to be staying at the moment. He knew how to pick up human women, and the occasional Shifter woman, for a night of fun and laughter.

Rae was a different case. She wasn’t much more than a cub—some years past her Transition, sure, but still very young. Younger than Zander, anyway, who’d passed his hundred and fiftieth year.

Plus, she wore a Collar. Zander didn’t. He’d been elusive enough to evade the humans rounding up Shifters twenty years ago and had kept to himself ever since. He lived alone and associated with other Shifters only when necessary. Most Shifters thought Zander was insane and avoided him until they needed him. And maybe they were right.

He watched Rae’s hands pick out the snarl, laying the line straight little by little. She opened the tackle box near her, extracted a reel, and began winding the line around it.

She did it in silence. No chattering like some of the ladies he picked up. One woman Zander had brought to his boat had talked nonstop from the moment he’d met her to the moment he’d put her into a cab to send her home the next morning. She’d even talked all through sex.

Rae said not a word. Unnerving. It wasn’t natural for females not to talk.

Zander cleared his throat. “You want something to eat?”

Rae smoothed the line around the reel and lifted her steady gaze to him. “I thought dinner swam away.”

“Very funny. I have sandwiches. In the refrigerator.”

She shrugged and went back to her task. “Sure.”

“And beer,” Zander said. “I don’t have anything to drink except beer. Well, that and water.”

“Either is fine,” Rae said.

What was the matter with her? She should be jumping up and down, howling and crying because she’d been dumped on a crazy man’s boat, her daddy vanishing into the blue. Instead, she kept on playing with the damned line, either pinning Zander with those gray eyes or avoiding looking at him.

“We’re about two hours from Homer,” he said. “That’s a couple hundred miles south of Anchorage.”

She looked up at him again, the sun’s fading light brushing her dark hair. “Where’s that?”

Zander waved an arm in the vague direction of northwest, where the land was a smudge on the horizon. “Alaska.”

She made an impatient noise. “I know Anchorage is in Alaska. I just don’t know where. I’ve never been out of Montana.”

“South coast. I have a slip in Homer, down the peninsula from there.”

Rae’s gaze went over him again—critically, he thought. “Do the people in Homer know you’re Shifter?”

“No.” Zander clenched one fist. “I keep it to myself.”

“How do they not know?” Rae’s eyes roved him again then rested on his bare neck. “Everything about you screams Shifter.”

Zander huffed a laugh. “Have you been to Alaska? It’s cold most of the time. Everyone’s so bundled up, who knows what anyone looks like?”

“You’re obvious.” Her eyes held his then she bent her head again. “Seriously obvious.”

“Don’t you like bears, sweetheart?” Zander’s voice dropped to a growl. “We’re cuddly.”

Her scoffing noise let him know where he stood. “I’m Lupine. I like Lupines.” Again she raised her head. “Only Lupines.”

“Oh, I can see we’re going to get along great, Little Wolf.” He leaned forward, meeting her stare for stare, which was strangely difficult. “Trust me, sweetie, I’m not interested. I get that you had this Guardian thing forced on you—no one is Goddess-touched on purpose. I’m going to teach you fighting and maybe how to deal with Goddess magic, and that’s it. Nothing else between us. Nothing. And not only because Eoin and Kendrick would kick my ass.”

Rae gave him the once-over again, scorn evident. “Fine by me.”

“Good.” Zander stuck out his hand. “Truce?”

Rae set aside the line—which was mostly untangled; she was good at it—and took his hand.