“No one is going to take that much notice,” Kane said.
“You would be surprised. A lot of people deal with your uncle. So your name would be recognisable. I just figured we should stay out of the towns and cities if we can.” Frasier leaned forward and glanced up at the sky. “We should be reaching our destination shortly. We’ll make camp for the night and we can get some training in before dark. I could do with freeing some of these kinks.” He rolled his neck and flexed his hands.
“Camping. You mean we are sleeping outside?” Kane asked.
“Sure are, rich boy. What did you think, I would be laying on a five-star hotel?” Frasier asked.
“Come on, let’s not go there again,” Amara said wearily. The whole journey had been taken up with the two men taking potshots at one another. It had been good-natured on the whole, but she was tired. “You two can go see who can piss the highest once we stop.”
“Men do not do that,” Frasier said. “Or at least Prime men don’t; they have other ways to see who is the best.”
“Enough,” she said. “You two can go and run off, or fight off, all that testosterone. I’ll make us some dinner. You did bring food, right?” she asked.
“Yes. And the spot where we are stopping will already have some wood for a fire. I’ll help you light it and then we can get to training.”
Amara looked out of the window. The sun was low on the horizon, casting its warm glow over the open grassland. Up ahead, she could see trees looming and she figured that was where they would make camp. It made sense, they could pull off the road and no one would see them.
Sure enough, once they entered the trees, Frasier drove on for about five miles before he took a turning on the left, which she would have missed, as it wasn’t a road, more of a track up through the trees. They climbed higher, the old truck’s engine groaning under the strain.
“We aren’t going to have to get out and push, are we?” Kane asked.
“You know, I might ask you to do that,” Frasier said with a wicked grin. “Just for the fun of it.”
But then he turned the steering wheel hard and they almost doubled back on themselves. In front of them, a clearing opened up, and there was an old fire pit and a big pile of dry wood piled under a makeshift shelter.
“Nothing illegal,” she said. “Because this sure looks like the kind of place where bears who don’t want to be found hole up.”
“That’s right, nothing illegal. But that doesn’t mean we don’t find things that don’t necessarily want to be found. Like Kane here. Right now, he does not want to be found,” Frasier said, switching off the engine and getting out of the car.
“I will be glad to stretch my legs,” Amara said to Kane.
“Me too. And to eat. I am starving,” he said, opening the door and climbing down.
He held out his hand and helped her. Amara hadn’t realised how much she had stiffened up on the journey, and if she wasn’t so hungry, she would have joined the men on their run. Instead, she sent them off and began to fill a pan with water. Coffee, and then she would cook a meal from the supplies Frasier had brought along.
Then later, after they had eaten, she was going to persuade Kane to take her on a moonlit walk through the trees. She had a different scratch that needed his attention. And he was the only man who could ease it.
19
Kane squared his shoulders and took a flying leap at the bear. If there was one thing he had learned in the short time he had spent sparring with Frasier, it was that the bear didn’t have the same speed and agility as a lion—but he sure could pack a punch with his big bear feet.
“The thing you have to do,” Frasier’s advice rang in his ears, “is read your opponent, see what they are going to do before they do it.”
That was how Kane managed to avoid the bear’s claws as they sliced through the air, scratching the surface of his lion hide. A thrill of excitement coursed through him; he was getting better at this. Landing on all four paws, he immediately did a kind of a lion back flip and arced through the air to catch the bear off guard, landing a swipe on Frasier’s jaw.
The bear reeled back, and Kane went for the kill. Or at least his jugular. He wasn’t really going to kill the bear—they needed him—although if he made Frasier’s throat sore, he might not be so inclined to talk so much tomorrow.
Kane opened his mouth, his teeth full of bear fur. And then the world exploded in starlight.
* * *
“Did you have to hit him so hard?” Amara’s voice came to him from so far away. Her sweet, gentle voice, tinged with annoyance. But not for him, surely not for him.