by Candi Fox
Moments after he settled back into his spot, he spotted Emma entering the woods. He started after her when something held him back. Some inner voice telling him he would aide her better by hanging back.
He called on the spirit of the owl to lend him sight to track her. The power responded to him with surprising ease. With less technology and more belief in the odd and unexplained, magickal energy surged all around him.
In less than a breath, his vision shifted to an aerial view as he watched her weave through the dark wood with some familiarity. Though he suspected she had dynamic magic, he also suspected the powers were dormant.
Noise brought his focus back to the fort. Two people were headed toward the back wall. He paused long enough in the kitchen to recognize several herbs used in sleeping potions.
Emma told him stories about her Mamit, grandmother, teaching her about herbs and their many uses from an early age.
That could only mean one thing. Whatever headed his direction had to be paranormal. A scant few minutes later a large wolfman with black mottled fur and red eyes tore through the shrubs leaving the hidden spot wide open.
Chandler swore when he saw the wolf man’s companion, a kravyad, a flesh-eating demon. He looked closer at the demon realizing it was one of the men that killed Nik.
He knew he smelled demon. Stifling the angry screech of the owl spirit, he watched the creatures. The wolfman let out a loud long howl before shifting back to human form.
“Shift, Gideon.”
Red eyes looked balefully at the Frenchman, who looked back unflinchingly.
“NOW Taz'gamad.”
Power lashed out from the Frenchman, ripping into the demon. Screams of agony tore from its throat as its body shrank back to human size. With the change complete, Gideon looked up at his companion.
“If you do that again I’ll eat you alive one bite at a time.”
A maniacal laugh bellowed from the Frenchman. “I’ll have to be dead before our contract is broken, Taz. Or have you forgotten?”
“You’re going to push me too far.”
A small pack of wolves arriving cut any further conversation short. Chandler counted six in all as they came to a stop in front of their alpha.
Slightly larger than normal wolves, each one had inky black fur and solid yellow eyes. They were normal wolves once; he could sense their despair at the loss of what they once were. Despair twisted into hatred.
The Frenchman held up a towel. “Get a good whiff. Bring her back unharmed.”
Six black streaks took off into the woods in Emma’s direction. Waiting until the two men went back inside the fort took precious seconds he didn’t have. Sending thanks to Thor for his mother’s heritage, he shifted into a large screech owl. Lifting off the ground, he made his way above the trees, searching for the pack.
It didn’t take him long to find them. He followed them, trying to formulate a plan to save Emma. Once they caught up to her, he had no choice but to act immediately.
He swooped low ahead of the wolves and began to shift: four cloven hooves hit the ground as he bellowed a call to the surrounding area.
Chapter 27
Emma
Quick as lightning, fear flooded her entire being. With a renewed burst of speed, she managed to get ahead of the pack.
The trail split and without hesitating she took the left fork. Suddenly a massive buck appeared in her path heading right for her. She didn’t have time to stop or go around, so she threw herself to the side to avoid colliding with it.
She landed in a tangle of limbs. In a hurry to get up and away from the wolves, she sprang to her feet immediately, only to wince and nearly fall again.
Emma managed to hobble down the trail as a light mist began to fall. Thankful for the buck who distracted the wolves allowing her to get away. She hobbled as quickly as she could, giving up hope of not leaving a trail, she needed to find the perfect spot to hide.
Her ankle throbbed to the point she began clenching her jaw. She couldn’t stop, not yet. One chance. It’s all she had, just one chance. The mist turned to a heavy downpour.
A blessing really, it would wash away her tracks and her scent. With no signs of the rain slowing, she pressed on until she felt the press of dawn in her bones. She’d always been an early riser. Daddy told her he could set his alarm by her rising. Four in the morning, rain or shine, her body decided to rise before the rooster.
Time to find a place to hole up. Emma searched the area. Spotting a small hole in the side of a rocky hill, she headed toward it. Enough scrub and brush grew in the area, she’d be able to camouflage the hole with ease.
Less than twenty feet away, hope surged within her chest. I’m going to make it. Excruciating pain radiated from her ankle up to her hip with each step. Just a few more feet. You can do this, Emma!
Ten feet away she slipped on a rock, losing her footing and tumbling down the hill. She lost consciousness when her head hit a rock on the way down.
** ** **
She came around to the sound of voices. The sun riding high in the skies means she must have been knocked out cold for hours.
Oh no, they are going to find me. Emma struggled to sit up. Strong arms encased her, a large hand covering her mouth. She struggled against her captor.
“Did you hear that?”
“I didn’t hear anything. Let’s move on. She can’t be far.”
“Wait, Wyatt, look up there. A hole in the hill. She coulda climbed in.”
“Danvers don’t waste your time. Why would she climb in hole anyone can see?”
“I’m going to climb up and see. If we don’t bring her back, the boss’ll have our hides.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll be right here.”
She relaxed against her unknown savior. His arms loosened their grip when she relaxed against him. They stayed still covered by the dense brush growing at the bottom of the hill she’d tumbled down.
Time drug on making the minutes seem like hours as she listened to Danvers search.
“Find anything up there, Danvers?”
“Not a damned thing.”
“Hope she didn’t get away while you were chasing your tail, boss man will be mad.”
She heard Danvers scramble down the hill, rocks sliding everywhere. Suddenly her body was covered by a much larger one as pebbles and larger rocks rained down on them.
They lay like that until the sound of horse’s hooves faded off into the distance. Finally, the weight of his body left hers. Emma looked up into surprisingly dark eyes. A brown so deep it looked black.
Fear raced down her spine; she heard stories about the natives. None of them good. She searched his face for the savagery she heard of only to find kindness.
He offered his hand to help her up, which she took with gratitude. Still she couldn’t keep her hand from trembling as they touched.
“I won’t hurt you, little dove.”
Emma pushed with her other arm as he helped her to her feet. The moment she put weight on the injured ankle she cried out in pain.
Strong arms scooped her up and carried her through the scrub. She looped her arms around his neck to make it easier for him to carry her.
A horse neighing caught her attention. Emma gasped when she spotted the horse. It was the very same horse from her dreams. Down to the red handprint on his shoulder.
“Spirit knows you.”
“Yes,” she whispered even though he hadn’t asked.
“He’s walked in your dreams.” He set her up on the horse’s back before swinging up behind her. “Take us home, Spirit.”
The horse, needing no further urging, headed off through the landscape. She closed her eyes, fighting the urge to be sick. While the stallion had a steady rhythm, each movement jarred her head and ankle, sending thousands of tiny daggers shooting through her body.
“Sleep, I will keep you safe.”
She wondered why his English, or rather American English, was near perfect. It didn’t fit with anything sh
e heard about the “savages”.
* * *
Her head pounded mercilessly. She opened her eyes and immediately regretted it as a wave of nausea hit her.
“I’m going to be sick.”
He stopped the horse, dismounting swiftly before helping her off and to the side of the trail they were on. Since she hadn’t eaten anything, it didn’t take long to empty the contents of her stomach on the side of the road.
A cool hand touched her forehead.
“You have a fever.”
He picked her up. Carrying her into the woods.
“Where are we going.”
“To the creek, little dove.”
“My name’s Emma.”
“You don’t like dove?” he said with a smile, showing his perfectly white teeth.
She studied this man, who, by all rights, she should be terrified of.
Strong jaw, generous lips, his long dark hair in braids. Handsome didn’t seem a strong enough word. He wore only a loincloth, leggings, and moccasins. Moving silently through the woods, he stopped at the creek.
“What should I call you?”
“Wolf.”
“Why are you helping me?”
“You need it.”
“Your English is perfect.”
“Yours has a funny accent. Now let’s get you cooled down.”
He set her on a rock before reaching for the buttons of her dress.
The shock on her face showed plainly. “If you stay in wet clothes, your fever will become worse.”
She trembled, but not from chill as he undid all the buttons on her dress before helping her out of it. When he reached for the ties of her underthings, she pulled back.
“Same principle little dove. I’m the medicine man of my tribe. Do you know what that is?”
“I met a witch doctor in Africa that practiced spiritual magic and healing.”
“Good, you know to trust me.”
She bit her lip and nodded her head. The witch doctor had done many strange things, yet he always had the patient’s best interest at heart.
With deft fingers he untied, unlaced, and undressed her before removing everything but his loincloth. She had a feeling he left it on for her modesty. Riding in wet buckskin wouldn’t be a treat.
Picking her up he carried her into the large creek, wading waist deep.
“Relax, let the water take your fever.”
Eyes closed she allowed the rest of her body to relax allowing it to buoy her with Wolf’s support. How odd her life had become. America was filled with nothing but surprises. Many not at all pleasant.
“Do you think they are still looking for me?”
“It’s likely, but they won’t find you. Not when you’re with me. How did you come to be with a band of outlaws?”
“They robbed a bank in Cooperstown and took me hostage.”
“Have you been with them many days?”
“Four, maybe five. I hit my head pretty hard and lost some time.”
He made a concerned grunt before shifting her in his arms and feeling her head. She winced when he found a sore spot, and nearly yowled when he found another.
“You will need to rest before I take you to Cooperstown. Head injuries are tricky.”
“My parents are due in any day. They will be worried sick.”
“They will be more worried if you fall sick or die.”
Die? No way I could be that injured.
“I can see the doubt in your eyes, little dove. Tonight, we will rest. Tomorrow we will go to my village and get you some decent clothing. Then we shall see how you feel.”
“All right.”
He smiled at her again. “Relax.”
She closed her eyes again, focusing on the water and her breathing. Wolf began to chant in a language she didn’t know. Tingles spread through her body as the wind began to softly blow.
Her nipples hardened from the cool wind against her wet nipples and she suddenly became aware of his arousal. He, however, seemed unaware of the predicament. His hands continued to support her gently as he chanted.
Energy whirled about them. In her mind’s eye she saw it form like mist into green swirls with leaves drifting through it. Her nausea disappeared and the pain in her ankle lessened.
A few minutes later, he carried her out of the water and placed her back on the rock. He handed her a large square of dry cloth.
Emma used it to dry herself and get dressed as best she could. Wolf finished the last few buttons and helped her put her boot on the uninjured foot.
She mounted the horse again with his help and they headed off once again. It didn’t take her long to fall back asleep.
Chapter 28
Emma
Her entire body felt engulfed in flames. She struggled to throw the weight of the blankets off her. No matter how hard she pushed, she couldn’t manage to get it off. She wanted cool air.
No, she needed cool air. She thrashed and cried out trying to get the blankets off her.
“Shh, little dove. You need to sweat and break your fever.”
“It’s too hot. Let me cool down.”
Strong arms wrapped around her before soft lips kissed her forehead soothingly.
“Shh. It will all be fine. Go back to sleep.”
He rubbed the back of her head, muttering soothing words in the same language he chanted in earlier. Her eyes felt heavy, too heavy to fight. She relaxed against him, falling into a deep slumber.
Her fever continued to rage. She woke up and fell back to sleep countless times. Each time Wolf took care of her. Getting her to drink or holding her hair and wiping her face after she got sick.
A time or two she even woke up in a creek. She had no idea if it was the same creek. She didn’t care. The cool water made her feel better. A respite from the heat of the fever that raged inside her.
Three days later, her fever broke. Her mouth felt like she ate sand.
“Water,” she managed to rasp.
An unfamiliar face appeared over her.
“I’ll help.” Doe brown eyes regarded her from an angelic face. Her dark hair done in two braids much like Wolf’s.
She sipped the cool liquid from the gourd.
“Thank you.”
Emma studied the beautiful young woman kneeling beside her. She wore a vibrant blue wrap skirt, soft moccasins, and nothing else. It wouldn’t be the first native tribe she’d been around that went topless.
Modesty, a commodity that only the rich could afford. She knew about the facts of life forever, yet the pull hadn’t existed until the night Cord mistook her for Evanora. Nik’s kisses stirred the fires inside her as well, leaving her feeling more brazen.
Wolf’s voice brought her from her memories into the present.
“How do you feel, little dove.?”
“Like Spirit galloped on my head.”
Wolf chuckled. “It’s good that you are better. Aponi, please get our guest some food.”
The young woman, Aponi, smiled at Wolf with such love in her eyes. A bolt of pure hot jealous flashed through her with such intensity she had to bite her lip to keep from protesting.
She didn’t want another woman to look at him that way. Oh my god, the fever burned my brain. I’ve completely lost my senses.
“Where are we?”
“In my village.”
“How long have we been here?”
“Two days.”
Chapter 29
Cord
Three days into looking for Emma, the outlaws couldn’t be far. With the help of Philip, they stayed on the trail even through the rain.
They were setting up camp for the night when he caught the scent of a bear. A remarkably familiar bear. The one Jack Rose introduced him to.
He waited until Philip turned in for the evening before sneaking off into the woods. Taking off his clothes, he stashed them by the trunk of a tree before shifting forms.
Bones shifted and broke, muscles grew, and fur flowed over his body. A large
golden cat stood where the man was only seconds before. Lifting his head into the wind, he followed the scent of the large bear he caught wind of earlier.
He took the long route to the bear stopping by a large stream to catch dinner before heading deeper into the woods. The bear lay in a small clearing deep in the woods. It appeared to be sleeping, but his cat knew better.
After padding to the edge of the clearing he sat watching the bear who eventually opened an eye and peered at him. Once the bear sat up and started shifting, he did the same.
The large Russian man towered over him as much as the bear had the big cat. His accent was thick, yet he spoke English well.
“I found them. They are in an old fort not far from here.”
“How many?”
“Over twenty.”
He cursed softly.
“A posse is coming from Warren. Not enough unless we go in at night.”
“Do they have Emma?”
“I saw her go in.”
“Thank Heavens. We can get her out.”
“Da, we meet with the Warren men.”
Sergei filled him in on the location before they both shifted and headed their separate ways.
He shifted back, changing into his clothes, and heading into camp surprised to find Philip sitting in the dark, fully clothed.
“Ready to go get our girl?”
Phillip once again surprised him but not only knowing they were going to get Emma but calling her “our” girl.
“Yes.”
“Horses are saddled.”
“How did you know?”
Phillip smiled at him. “A story for another day. It’s not a short one.”
Cord headed to his horse mounting up and leading them through the dark to where the posse camped. Eighteen men in all, the odds were looking up.
A quarter mile from the encampment, Sergei appeared from the woods joining them on the road.
“Hello, Sheriff.”
The familiar voice came out of nowhere surprising him. He heard Sergei swear softly in Russian and Philip draw in a deep breath, meaning both men were as surprised as he that they were not alone on the road.
