True Mates Volume 1: Carol's Mate, True Mates, and Mary and the Bear

Carol Scott crossed the campus green, backpack slung over her shoulder, face raised to the warm sun. She both loved and hated this time of year. The cool, crisp breeze combined with clear skies, lots of sunshine, and chilly temperatures made it wonderful to be outside. In contrast, it was a pain to be indoors, closed inside stifling hot buildings with the overwhelming scents of perfume, chemicals, and body odor.

Sometimes it was rough being a shape-shifter.

Right now wasn’t one of those times.

She stopped, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Nothing but pine, dirt, and sunshine. It was great. So wonderful, she did it again. This time, along with the cleansing aroma of nature, another scent came to her. One that had her senses humming. She turned, trying to pinpoint where the luscious smell was coming from.

There, in the center part of the bowl-shaped green, a group of men were playing football. Not that she could blame them. This was the perfect weather for it. Somewhere in that group of players was where the scent emanated from.

Carol shook her head and forced her feet to keep moving. Those men were human. Ignoring the slight disappointment she felt, she reminded herself she wasn’t here to find a mate. She only had a couple more semesters of school and then her internship before she got her degree. That was her primary objective. Everything else would have to wait.

“Watch out!”

Instinctively turning, Carol reached out and caught the football spiraling toward her head with one arm. Adjusting her grip, she shot it back to the guy running at her, then kept going.

“Wait!”

Sighing deeply, she stopped to see what he wanted.

“That’s quite an arm you have,” he said as he jogged up. “You snatched that ball right out of the air.”

Carol shrugged. “Years of playing ball with my pa—cousins.” Crap, she’d almost said ‘pack.’ Time to go. She pivoted and made to move on.

“Don’t leave.” He placed a hand on her arm.

When she stared down at it, he hastily removed it. “We’re one man short. We could use you on our team.”

She was already shaking her head. “I don’t think so.” Playing with the pack was one thing. These guys? Something else.

“Come on,” he appealed. “We really could use the help. We’re getting slaughtered.” He gave her an engaging grin, showing a lot of teeth.

Carol bit her lip in indecision. She loved football, and it had been a while since she’d played. While she debated, another guy came running over.

“What’s the holdup?”

“I’m trying to get her—what’s your name?—to play on our team.”

“Name’s Carol,” she answered.

“I’m Otis, and this joker here is Brad. So what do you say?” Otis asked.

“You’re sure the other guys won’t mind?”

Brad laughed. “It can’t hurt. Might even help.”

Otis still had a pleading look on his face.

Carol shot a quick glance at her watch. “Okay, fine. But only for a little while.” She’d just have to be careful not to do anything suspicious.

Otis gave her a huge, pleased grin. “Great. Come on. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the guys.”

As they rejoined the group, Otis made introductions. “Guys, this is Carol. Carol”—he pointed to each one as he said their names—“Kevin, Jose, Pete, and Mike. She’s agreed to help us out. Carol, what position do you play?”

She arched an eyebrow. “What do you need?”

“Ooooo, I like her,” Brad said, and one of the other guys—Jose?—shoved him.

“You like every female,” Jose told him.

Ignoring their byplay, Otis continued, “Fine, we really need a quarter. Kevin’s okay, but I think you have a better arm. Brad, you and Jose receive. Pete and Mike will block. Kevin, you center, and I’ll run interference. Okay?”

“How much are we down by?” Carol asked.

“Twelve points,” Kevin said. “We’ve been running the ball because they pick it off whenever I throw.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

When they got into formation, the opposing team heckled them. “What a bunch of pansies. You had to get a girl to come help you out?”

Another made kissing noises. “You sure you want to play, chica? We don’t want you getting hurt. This ain’t no sissy flag game.”

Carol rolled her eyes and concentrated on the snap. “One, two, three, hut!”

She caught the ball and danced back, eyes focused on her two receivers running down the field under heavy coverage. Using shape-shifter reflexes, she dodged the airborne body that made it past her blockers, danced around another, and, seeing no one open, tucked the ball in close and took off running for the end-zone markers.

Reminding herself she was supposed to be human, she kept her speed within the realm of believability but still quickly outdistanced everyone chasing her and crossed into the end zone with yards to spare between her and her closest pursuer. Carol spiked the ball and allowed herself a small victory dance as her teammates caught up with her.

“Dang, woman, you’re fast,” Otis breathed out.

“I ran track in high school,” Carol told them. It wasn’t true, but it would explain her quickness.

“All right, all right. You got some skills,” one of the guys who’d taunted her earlier conceded.

Afterwards, things moved quickly. Carol lost track of time as she got caught up in the competitiveness of the sport. With her help, her team found new energy and drive, forcing the opposing team to step up their game as well. Soon the score was tied in a gridlock neither team seemed able to break.

Carol’s team had the ball. In a bold move, she sent five of the guys running downfield, leaving only Kevin to block for her. She darted back, eyes grimly focused on her men, waiting for an opening.

Kevin went down, and she had to scramble. Right when she thought she’d have to run the ball herself, she noticed Mike was wide open. Aiming for his chest, she drew back her arm and released the ball like a bullet shooting from the chamber of a gun. Seconds later, a hard body slammed into her, knocking her to the ground.