by Terry Spear
When she was finished with her shower, she threw on her jeans and the gray sweater, grabbed a trash bag, and headed outside. After dumping her clothes into the bag, she took them inside and began cleaning them out in the kitchen sink. This was a hundred times worse than cleaning paintbrushes. The paint just kept pouring out of her clothes no matter how much she ran the water over them and kept squeezing out the paint. If she’d had a lot more clothes to wear, she would have just figured they were now her paint clothes. But she wore them to snuggle up with Chase on the couch while they watched movies, warmer than her pink nightie that was more suitable for cuddling with him in bed later.
That had her thinking about how long she was staying and how she was fighting with herself over leaving, and letting Chase and the others help her. Every day she’d tell herself she’d stay just a little longer.
But she felt strangely at home here—with Chase. Every day she’d look at the calendar, feeling a little panicked, telling herself she couldn’t keep putting off leaving here forever. That she should have already left well before hunting season had arrived—and it had already begun.
Thanksgiving was nearly here. And when she knew she shouldn’t, she’d promised to go to the Muellers’ for Thanksgiving with Chase in just a few days. He’d told her how he hadn’t celebrated it in years and how much it would mean to him if she’d go with him. He’d already done so much for her, and she had to admit the lure of turkey and the works and spending the time with him and his friends appealed more than her wanting to leave.
But after that, she needed to go. She was certain her good fortune wouldn’t last forever.
Over the spray of the faucet water, she thought she heard a vehicle pull up outside.
She couldn’t believe it had taken her that long to shower and wash her clothes—that she was still washing. She listened to the sound of the vehicle’s engine. It wasn’t Chase’s hatchback. Her heartbeat quickened, and she quickly turned off the kitchen faucet.
The engine ran rougher, sounded noisier, more… ominous. Maybe someone wanted to rent a cabin. Or maybe someone had come by to see Chase. But she didn’t believe so. Everyone knew her situation. She was certain they would have called ahead and let him know, and he would have warned her if they were coming. Maybe it was that pesky reporter again, and he knew she was alone.
She dried off her hands and ran to the bedroom to get the phone. She pulled it off the bedside table and called Chase. “Chase—“
“Yeah, did you need something while I’m in town?” he asked, sounding cheerful when her blood was running cold. “I’m just about through with getting the paint mixed. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
“Someone just parked outside your cabin.”
Three doors opened, but they didn’t slam shut. Whoever it was she thought was attempting to be quiet. With her enhanced cat hearing, she heard everything.
“At least three people.” Her voice was soft, but trembled. She hated feeling like she was the hunted, the prey again, when for the past two and half weeks she’d felt almost normal, living like anyone else in the town, happy with Chase and with those who had welcomed her so warmly. She glanced at the rifle cabinet and noted it was locked.
“I’m in my car and headed back. Is the front door locked?” he asked, his voice hard, police-like.
“Yes.”
She eyed the door, listening to their movement, heard someone’s boots walking across the deck toward the living room window. She was thankful the curtains had remained shut—her wish, feeling safer like that, hating that she still hadn’t felt entirely safe here. Chase had been sweet enough to accommodate her in anything she had wanted.
At least the men couldn’t see her through any of the windows.
“I’m on my way back, Shannon. Do you know how to shoot a rifle?” Chase asked, giving her a chance to see what was going on before he intruded on her thoughts.
“Yes, but I already checked, and the gun cabinet’s locked. There are at least three people out there and no one has spoken a word.” Which made her believe they were men, that they were after her, and they were motioning with hand signals. She hoped she was just being paranoid.
Someone knocked on the door, and she jumped a little, her heart beating hard, her eyes fastened on the solid oak, but she was listening for where the others were. Hennessey wouldn’t bother knocking, would he?
The one at the door could very well be a distraction while the others tried to find a way in. Instantly, she thought of Hal’s house and how she had managed to find an unlocked window. She’d known, from her brother and his friends’ scrapes with the law, that often people left a window unlocked, second-story windows usually, figuring no one would climb up to reach them.
Now, she worried that Chase might have an unlocked window somewhere in the house. She thought she heard someone try to lift the living room window. Nothing happened. It was locked. But the fact someone would try the window, meant these people were trouble.
“They’re trying to get in through an unlocked window,” she said to Chase, her voice unsteady.
“I’ll be there, Shannon. I’m only minutes away. The lock combination to the rifle cabinet is—“
“Shannon,” Hennessey called out, making Chase stop talking to her on the phone. Chase had heard.
“We know you’re in there and that the boyfriend has left you all alone. Open the door and make it easy on yourself. All we want is to know where Ted hid the money,” Hennessey yelled. “Your boyfriends always end up dead, don’t they? Let this one live. Come on out. We just want that money. I’ll only give you one chance to cooperate. Wait—you don’t think I killed Ted in cold blood, do you?”
Of course he had. What did he think? She was an idiot?
She swallowed hard. They’d been watching the cabin. For how long? They couldn’t have been watching it all that long or they could have grabbed her when she went out to get her clothes that were covered in paint.
But she knew Hennessey lied about Ted. She hadn’t thought anything of the money that Ted had stolen. He said he’d paid expenses with it. She’d figured he’d spent it. But his brothers must have thought otherwise. How much had he stolen? Why would they think Ted would have confided in her?
And then she remembered the last things that were said right before she escaped. Hennessey had asked where he had the money. Ted had seen her and said her name, as if he had forgotten she was in the house, or that she might be hurt next. Had Hennessey thought Ted was saying Shannon knew where the money was?
Even if she did know and could tell Hennessey, he would still want her dead. She had witnessed him murdering his brother.
“What you saw was a case of self-defense. Ted came after me with one of your butcher knives. I only just managed to wrestle it away from him. I didn’t want to hurt him. I had to know where the money was.”
“It’s them,” she said to Chase in a hushed voice. “Hennessey and two others. I… I love you, Chase. Always remember that.” She didn’t believe Hennessey had accidentally killed his brother. Maybe they had fought over the knife, but he still wanted Shannon dead.
“Shannon, the combination on the gun cabinet is…”
She didn’t hear the rest of Chase’s words as she shoved the phone in her jeans pocket. She was already running for his bedroom. If she could strip off her clothes, make it to his bedroom window, and open it in time, she could shift, leap out into the woods, and run.
Even if she’d managed to get into the rifle cabinet in time, she couldn’t kill all three men, and she’d be a sitting duck. But someone was likely to hear her shoving the window up at the back of the house, and then he would run around the back while alerting the others. Or someone might already be at the window. She hoped they were watching her bedroom window instead.
She had her sweater off and tossed it in the hall. She had to pause to kick off her socks, and when she reached Chase’s bedroom, she pulled off her jeans and panties. Even as a cougar, she would be able to f
ight at least one of them before they shot her dead. A crash sounded as something struck the glass in the living room window, making her heart skip a few beats. Someone banged hard against the front door. It was solid oak and wouldn’t budge.
More tinkling of breaking glass in the living room sounded as someone must have been trying to make it safe enough to climb through the window.
Heart hammering against her ribs, she locked Chase’s bedroom door, and ran to his window, still unclasping her bra, then tossed it aside. Then she peered out through the curtains. No sign of anyone.
Footfalls ran down the hall, two pairs. One of the men threw open the door to her guest bedroom and it banged against the wall just as she unlocked the sash to Chase’s window and shoved the window up. Thank God it wasn’t stuck like the one at Ted’s house. She felt a case of déjà vu all over again.
She shifted just as the bathroom door was thrown open and then the hall closet door was opened.
Tears collected in her eyes and she thought of leaving Chase behind, as she leapt through the window. Angry at herself for being upset now, she fought to keep a clear head. Adrenaline poured into her veins, boosting her ability to fight or flee. Not having a choice, she had to escape these men for now because she couldn’t make a stand alone. But realization dawned: she had to quit being the prey and become the hunter.
She, who had never committed a crime in her life—until she came here—had every intention of killing at least one of the three men if she could. If she could manage to get the advantage before they got her first.
***
Fearing for Shannon’s life and his own heart doing double time, Chase sped back to his cabin, only minutes away from his resort, still listening on the phone when he heard the glass breaking at his place. Shannon had quit talking to him, and he knew she had to be trying to save herself. He quickly ended the call and got hold of Dan, who would have Dottie call every cougar shifter who was a capable hunter in the area to join him at his place. Well, not exactly join him, but follow him. Because if Shannon managed to escape, she’d be gone, running as a cougar. And the men after her? They would have no choice but to shift to catch up to her if they intended to take her down.
With their longer legs and more powerful muscles, they would be able to catch up to her even if she had a head start.
He couldn’t lose her and his stomach twisted into knots as he felt he was reliving his wife and baby’s deadly ordeal—home invasion, three ruthless men, no one to protect his family in time.
“Three men,” Chase said, “and she said the one man was Hennessey.”
“I’ve got Dottie calling everyone. Everyone will be on their way in a heartbeat. They’re grabbing rifles and whatever other gear we need. Medical supplies, the works. I’m on my way. My deputy’s headed back from his vacation, saying there’s way too much excitement around here to bother soaking up the sun in Costa Rica any longer.”
He’ll be too late, Chase thought morosely. This was going to end now.
“I’m at my place now, black Humvee out front, living room window shattered, no smell of any of the three men in the vicinity. They have to be cloaking their scent with hunter’s spay.” Which made sense or they would have alerted Shannon they were here.
Chase unlocked the front door and raced through the cabin. All the doors were open except his bedroom door. “They couldn’t break through my solid oak bedroom door. She’s got to have gone out the window from there.”
He raced back through the cabin. He could have just stripped and shifted and run, but he had to discover if she’d managed to get away and if the men were in pursuit as cougars or humans. He had to let Dan know what they were up against so he could tell the rest of the hunters. Though he suspected Hennessey and the others were still chasing her or they would have returned to their vehicle and left already.
When he came around the outside of the house, he saw his bedroom window was open. He ran up to it and peered inside, ensuring she wasn’t lying in there wounded or dead. Shannon’s clothes were tossed every which way. “She’s running as a cougar,” he said to Dan.
Not that he’d had any doubts. Unless she’d had a gun and knew how to use it, she’d be better off with her cougar’s teeth and claws.
Then he ran a short distance into the woods and found where the men had ditched their rifles and clothes. “They’ve shifted, Dan. They’re going to kill her as cougars.”
“The hell they are,” Dan growled. “Be there in three minutes.”
“Okay, I’m stripping and shifting.” Not only would Hennessey and his men be after her, but so would every human hunter if they spotted her, looking to make their kill for the season. “Ready,” he said, now naked. “See you soon.”
Chase dropped his phone onto his clothes, shifted, feeling like one growly mountain lion ready to kill a bunch of males. He smelled her panicked scent and prayed she could hold out until he reached her.
He was feeling the same gnawing panic when he’d been too late to save his wife and baby. He couldn’t be too late this time.
***
Shannon headed to her old stomping grounds—at least it felt that way to her—the cave near the waterfall. She needed the height, the advantage of knowing the area, what was below her, and that they couldn’t get to her from up above without her seeing them first. She didn’t have much hope of killing all three of the men. Maybe not even one of them, unless she got damned lucky. But she had to give Chase a chance to reach her. She knew he’d let the others know and everyone who could, would be on their way to help her out.
She just had to manage by herself until then.
She had never wanted something so badly—a home with Chase, with these people who had made her feel so welcome, a chance to set down roots and never have to run again. And now it was all about to be taken away from her.
She’d reached the cave, but she stayed near the ledge where she laid down. A few golden grasses had managed to sprout up there and with her golden coloring, she was well hidden as long as she kept her head low. They wouldn’t have to see her though. Just smell her scent and follow it.
The cats could move so quietly and with the waterfall muffling any sound of their movement, she didn’t think she would hear them before it was too late. Just suddenly, three cats would leap into her space, and she’d have to decide which one to fight before the others lunged for her.
She envisioned that Chase had reached the cabin already and that he was in hot pursuit of the men. He might even reach one before they managed to find their way to her. Then she’d have only two to deal with.
On the other hand, she could see Chase getting himself killed over her. If he tackled one of the men, the others would return to help him out. They wouldn’t come after her then. Not until they finished him off. He would be the greater threat to one male.
She couldn’t allow it. He had to wait for the others to join him as backup. She’d never felt she was cursed, but what if she was? With three dead boyfriends to her name?
She stood up and snarled and growled and screamed in the way only a cougar could to tell Hennessey she was ready for him. She couldn’t allow the three of them to gang up on Chase and kill him.
***
As soon as Chase heard Shannon’s cougar calls, he felt ripples of chills run through his blood. She was alerting her pursuers where she was.
Why?
They would already know the way she had gone. She had to know that he would go after the men and be on his way so she didn’t need to alert him. She needed to be quiet and keep low.
She was silent for a moment, and then she began snarling again. It wasn’t a “fight for a life” sound, but an angry “come and get it” sound. As if she was tired of running, and she was ready to make a stand.
But she couldn’t. Not against even one hefty male cougar.
Chase leapt over fallen trees and moss-covered rocks, dove through the underbrush, no longer tracking her, but following the sound of her growly calls, which
he thought were bouncing off the cave where she’d been before she saved the boy at the waterfall. He rushed to join her so they could make a stand together. He thought that at least one of the men would have reached her by now. But she wasn’t fighting for her life yet. Had her actions startled them? Made them regroup a bit? Trying to figure out what her ploy was?
If she was one thing—she was unpredictable.
And he loved that about her. Hell, he loved her for all her vulnerability, her sassiness, her caring, everything that made her the she-cat that she was.
Somehow, he would save her.
What he didn’t expect was to see a male cougar he didn’t recognize standing still up ahead. He was slightly overweight, which would make him harder to take down, but Chase could maneuver quicker. The cougar had a few gray hairs, so he was older, too. He probably wasn’t Hennessey then, but maybe his uncle.
He was just standing there, his ears twitching as he listened to Shannon’s calls, not moving an inch, wary, uncertain. Chase didn’t see any sign of the other two men in their cat forms, and lunged, jumping a good twenty feet to make the connection just as he heard Shannon’s snarls change to fighting posture. One of the men had reached her.
His chilled blood turned to ice in his veins as he bit into the cougar’s shoulder. He hoped to hell Shannon could hold out until he reached her. The cougar had seen Chase in his peripheral vision just before Chase had pounced, and attempted to swing around to face him head on. Which was why Chase had only bitten him in the shoulder and not the back of the neck where he could have made a quick and sudden killing blow.
He’d gotten in a few good scratches, trying to avoid tackling the bastard head on. With his weight, the other cat might be able to pin Chase down. But then the sound of men running through the brush stole his attention. Chase’s first thought was that the men were some of their kind, and would be armed with rifles and take out the cat he was fighting. It was already cougar hunting season though and Chase couldn’t be certain.
A shot suddenly rang out. The round nicked Chase’s ear and hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. Granted, he and the other cat clawed and snarled, and attacked, both trying to angle in the right position to get a killing hold on his opponent. So he understood it was hard to get a bead on the right cougar.
