by Zoe Chant
They didn’t see her climb into a vehicle with a smirking, shadow-souled human man. They didn’t see the headlights cut through the night, or hear the coughing roar as the truck pulled away from the camp.
For the first time, the shifters had left her alone. Unguarded.
Unprotected.
Its excitement made the fox’s heart pound in its narrow chest. It steered the animal back into the trees. It took care to loop round wide, avoiding the shifter pack.
It had been waiting for this chance. It had prepared. Located a special host, saved just for this eventuality.
A thousand scents filled the fox’s nose. It picked out the one it needed—pungent, earthy, dangerous. The spoor made the fur on the fox’s back stand on end. The animal did not want to go anywhere near that scent.
But the fox had no choice. It drove the animal onward, already planning its next move.
Risky, to jump hosts so many times in short succession. It would attract attention.
But if its plan worked…that would not matter.
It lolled the fox’s tongue out in a predatory grin, and ran on.
Chapter 22
Rory awoke to a scaled, blue-black weight crushing him to the ground.
His chest burned. With the last of his strength, he pounded as hard as he could on the side of the tail wrapped around his body. The gleaming coils shifted a little, allowing him to suck in a desperate lungful of air.
“Get off, Joe,” he managed to wheeze.
He was too groggy to make it an alpha command, but the sea dragon released him anyway. The scales filling his vision were replaced by a ring of anxious faces.
“Oh good.” Wystan blew out a sigh of relief. “You’re human again. How are you feeling?”
“Like a dragon sat on me.” Wincing, Rory levered himself to his elbows. He was going to have some spectacular bruises. “What was that for?”
The rest of the squad exchanged glances.
“You don’t remember?” Blaise said cautiously.
His head throbbed like he’d just woken up from a week-long drinking bender. Deep in his soul, his griffin was screaming, clawing at his bones, trying to wrest them back into its own shape.
“Last thing I knew, we were going to dinner,” he said, having difficulty hearing his own words over the din his inner animal was making. “Then I went round the corner, and saw—“
Memory returned.
He surged upward, his griffin’s anger transmuting into his own. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Sit on him again, Joe!” Blaise yelled.
Joe’s tail slammed across him, knocking him flat once more. Wystan and Callum pinned his arms. Fenrir hurled his full weight across his head.
“Rory, of course you’re upset,” Blaise said, speaking so fast her words blurred together. “You’ve got every right to be. But you have to calm down. You can’t just slaughter Seth in front of a dozen witnesses.”
He couldn’t breathe. Blackness swirled at the edges of his vision, replacing the red mist of rage.
She was right. He needed to get a grip. He had to be perfectly rational and civilized and draw Seth aside for a private, man-to-man discussion.
Then he could slaughter him.
*Let me go,* he said telepathically, since his mouth was full of dog fur.
This time, he had the control to make it an alpha command. They all fell off him. Rory got to his feet, brushing himself down.
He frowned as he looked around the group. “Wait. If you’re all here, who’s with Edith?”
A guilty flicker crossed Blaise’s face. “If I’d stayed with her, I would have done something we’d all regret. You weren’t the only one who needed to cool off.”
“You left her alone?” His heart lurched. “With Seth?”
“Now, Rory.” Wystan’s tone dropped into his most soothing, trust-me-I’m-a-doctor bedside manner. “I’m sure she was just flirting a little. I don’t think anything will have actually happened. Certainly not in the last half hour.“
“Edith? Flirting?” It was such a nonsensical statement, he thought for a moment Wystan was joking. “Seriously, that’s what you thought was going on?”
“Uh, yes?” said Blaise. “I mean, you did go utterly berserk the instant you saw the two of them.”
Rory pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, fighting down an urge to throttle them all. “Are you people blind? Edith wasn’t flirting.”
“Bro.” Joe had shifted back to human form. He spread his hands, looking uncomfortable. “Don’t want to set you off again, but take it from an expert. When a woman does that thing with her hair, she’s definitely flirting.”
“Not Edith. Couldn’t you see how stiff she was? She was trying to hide from Seth. He was the one leering and pawing at her. She just wanted to get away.” Rory dropped his hands, raking them all with his glare. “And you left her with him.”
“Oh,” Blaise said, in a very small voice.
“‘Oh’ is right. You are all going to owe her a huge apology.”
As was he. If he’d had more control over his own animal, he could have helped her like a man rather than succumbing to feral instincts. By his own nature, he’d failed his mate.
He wouldn’t do so again.
He turned to Callum. “Where is she now?”
Callum’s eyes unfocussed for a moment. He hesitated.
“Callum,” Rory growled. “Spill it.”
“Heading into town,” the pegasus shifter said reluctantly. “And she’s not alone.”
Chapter 23
In her numb shock, she’d only cared about getting away. She didn’t actually register where Seth had guided her until the tooth-itching snarl of the truck engine cut through her misery.
“W-wait,” she protested, as the door locks clicked down, trapping her. “I didn’t mean—I can’t-“
“Sure you can, princess.” Seth floored the accelerator, making her lurch back in her seat. “Come on, it’s our last chance for a little fun. Fire season opens tomorrow, and the chief never lets us leave base while we’re on the books. Forget your troubles for an evening.”
“Th-that’s very kind of you.” The lights of the base had already disappeared behind them. She swallowed an irrational surge of panic. “But I have to get back to my squad.”
“Those dorks?” Seth caught her eye in the rear view mirror. “The ones that told you to piss off? Didn’t sound like they wanted to be with you.”
She could still feel Blaise’s shove, as though it was branded on her skin. Confusion closed her throat.
“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll take care of you. I’ll be a perfect gentleman, I promise.” Seth was taking the hairpin bends at a horrifying speed. “Look, after that little scene, you definitely need a drink. Just one drink, then I’ll bring you straight back. Okay?”
She didn’t have any choice. She could hardly fling herself out of the vehicle.
She twisted her hair again, trying to stay calm. “Okay. But just one drink. Promise?”
Seth held up a hand as though swearing an oath. “Scout’s honor.”
In short order, they pulled into Antler, the tiny cluster of houses that was the nearest thing to a town within twenty miles. She’d never been here before, though Joe had often tried to persuade her to join him on one of his regular visits to the place. Thanks to the local logging industry and the nearby hotshot base, the town boasted no fewer than five bars.
Seth pulled up in front of what Edith was pretty sure had to be the dirtiest and seediest of them.
“Aw, don’t look like that, princess.” Seth grinned as he helped her down from the car. He didn’t let go of her hand once her boots were on the ground. “This place is great. Best tequila in town.”
The parking lot was littered with battered pick-up trucks. Music spilled out into the night, harsh and pulsing with a deep bass beat. Even before Seth pushed open the door, her head was pounding.
She balked on the doorstep. “Just one drink
, right?”
“Just one drink,” he agreed. His hand ran down her back….and lower. “And maybe a little dance once you’re relaxed, hey?”
Her head spun like a kaleidoscope, a horrifying new pattern emerging. His hand on her butt was a signal even she couldn’t miss.
Somehow, she’d given him the impression that she was interested in him.
She jerked away from him. If he hadn’t still been holding her wrist like a manacle, she would have backed away. “Wait. There’s been some misunderstanding-”
Too late. He tugged her across the threshold, into a wall of blinding light and noise. The hot, musky fug from dozens of sweating bodies choked her nostrils. Completely disoriented, she staggered. Only Seth’s arm kept her upright.
“See?” he yelled in her ear over the din. “Just what you need. To lose yourself for a bit.”
Her head spun. The shrieking music stabbed through her head, scattering her thoughts. She clung to Seth as he steered her to a bar stool.
“P-please,” she managed to get out. “I can’t. I want to go.”
He wagged a finger in her face. “You promised me a drink, princess. Hang on, I’ll be right back.”
He abandoned her in the midst of the chaos. She dug her fingernails into the wooden bar, desperately trying to cling onto her own sense of self.
The growling beat seized every bone in her body, shaking her like a snarling dog. An answering shriek built in her throat, unstoppably.
Her mind detached. With icy clarity, she knew she was about to have a meltdown. In front of Seth and all these strangers, she was going to lose control like a toddler throwing a tantrum.
They’d all see. Buck would find out. He’d fire her and fire Rory and she couldn’t stop it—
Strong arms wrapped around her, holding her together. “I have you. I have you, Edith. It’s all right.”
Rory.
Impossibly, wonderfully, Rory.
“Come on.” He lifted her clean off her feet, half-carrying her through the crush of bodies. She caught a brief, confused glimpse of Seth staring at them, a bottle in each hand, before they were out, into the clean night air.
She buried her face in his chest, drawing in great gasping breaths. His smoke-spice scent was pure oxygen in her lungs. She shook from head to toe in sheer relief.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he was saying, over and over again. His fingers tangled in her hair. “I’m so sorry.”
Wasn’t that what she was supposed to be saying?
Rory pulled back a little, his fingers stroking down over her cheek. He tried to tip her chin up as if to search her face, but she jerked away, hiding against his shoulder. Eyes were too much at the moment. Even his eyes. Especially his eyes.
A low growl echoed through her ribcage. “Whatever Seth said or did to scare you so badly, I swear he’ll regret it.”
She shook her head jerkily, still pressed against him. “No. Not Seth. Me. My fault.”
His hands swept down her spine in long arcs, as if she was a cat. The touch was a little too light, too tickly, to be soothing, but she could tolerate it as long as he kept holding her.
“You’ve done nothing wrong, Edith,” he said. “Blaise and the others misunderstood, that’s all. And I…wasn’t there for you. We’re the ones who need to apologize, not you.”
“I do.” Her secret spilled out of her at last. “It’s my fault I didn’t understand Seth. My fault I couldn’t cope with the noise, the crowd. I’m autistic.”
He paused. “Is what I’m doing too much right now? Do you need me to stop?”
She’d told him.
And the first thing he’d said was not why didn’t you tell me or oh or that explains a lot.
But to ask what she needed.
Tears leaked out of her eyes. “No. It’s helping. Harder, please.”
His muscles tightened, holding her closer. His solid heat grounded her. His hands defined her edges, shaping her back into herself.
“I know what it’s like to have different senses, different instincts and reactions, to most people,” he murmured into her hair. “Whatever you need, I’m here. It’ll be okay.”
“No it won’t!” She gripped his arm in sudden panic. “You can’t tell anyone, Rory. Especially not Buck. He’ll fire me. And then he’ll fire you too. He said so.”
“Buck said what?” Rory sounded puzzled. Then, to her astonishment, he chuckled. “Wait. Did he tell you that if you left, I’d go too?”
She nodded, her cheek rubbing against his soft T-shirt.
He laughed again, low and easy. “Oh, Edith. That’s not because he’d fire me. That’s because I’d resign.”
She tilted her head up at last, focusing on his mouth. He was smiling. “What? Why?”
His thumb brushed across her own lips. His voice dropped to a soft, deep rumble. “Because I’m crazy about you. I’ll follow you anywhere, always. No matter what.”
Baffled joy rose in her like sunlight, starting at her toes and sweeping up to the top of her head. She felt light as a balloon. If he hadn’t been holding her, she would have floated away.
“I’m crazy about you too,” she mumbled. “As well as just being crazy.”
“You’re not crazy. You’re you. And what you are is perfect.” His fingertips traced a path from her lips to the corner of her eye. “I’ve just realized. You don’t like looking at people directly, do you?”
“Only in small doses. Otherwise it’s too much.” She tried to think how to explain. “It’s like getting too close to a wildfire. It can be done, but it takes preparation. Effort.”
“And here I was trying to stare deeply into your eyes at every opportunity like a lovesick idiot. I’m sorry.” He dipped his head a little, carefully keeping his eyes in shadow. “Would it be too much if I kissed you?”
“I don’t know.” She could barely breathe. “Only one way to find out.”
His hands cupped her face. She rose up on her toes, meeting him halfway.
Slowly, gently, their lips touched.
A tingling sensation spread across her skin—not the painful needles of sensory overload, but something sweet and true, soft as spring rain.
She wasn’t swept away. She didn’t lose herself.
She was Edith. Simply, entirely, Edith.
In his arms, under his touch, she was more present, more herself, than she had ever been in her entire life. Every nerve ending of her body sparked. Every slight movement of his mouth against hers echoed right down to the tips of her toes. The background pounding of music faded into irrelevance. The only thing that mattered was him, and her.
Someone cleared his throat behind them. “Rory.”
She jumped, but he didn’t. His fingers tightened a little on the sides of her face. He finished the kiss leisurely, drawing out the moment, before finally lifting his head.
“Cal.” Rory’s voice was deeper than she’d ever heard. It vibrated through her body, making her legs buckle and heat flash through her. “Something had better be on fire.”
“Not yet. But look.”
Callum’s grim tone cut through her post-kiss daze. She twisted around in Rory’s arms. Callum stood a little way off, every line of his lean body tense. He wasn’t looking at them.
He was staring upward, at the night sky. His eyes moved a little, as though tracking something flying overhead.
Edith looked up herself, as Rory did the same. She didn’t see anything…but Rory’s muscles abruptly went hard as iron under her hands. He breathed out a soft curse.
“Exactly,” Callum said. “We have a problem.”
Chapter 24
“What is it?” Edith twisted in his arms, scanning the sky. “What are you both looking at?”
She couldn’t see it. Couldn’t see the dense knot of clouds swirling on the horizon.
The storm was coming in fast. Gathering strength. Gathering speed.
And moving against the wind.
He didn’t need to ask Callum what his
pegasus shifter senses had detected in the heart of that unnatural storm. He already knew full well what was homing in on them like a missile.
“Edith,” he said, still staring upward. “Go with Cal.”
“What? Why?” She tightened her grip on him. “Rory, what’s going on?”
He bent down and kissed her again—hard, this time, claiming her lips as swiftly and fiercely as his animal craved. He closed his eyes, memorizing the heat of her mouth, the press of her body against his. Promising without words that he was hers, all of him, always.
She was his mate. He had to protect her.
It was an effort to wrench himself away, but he had no choice. As gently as he could, he unwrapped her arms from around his waist.
“There’s something I have to take care of.” He brushed her hair back from her dazed, uncomprehending expression. “I promise, I won’t be long.”
Her brows slanted down. “You aren’t going to go beat up Seth, are you?”
“Nothing to do with Seth.” That would have to wait until later. “But I really do have to go. The rest of the squad is waiting back at the base. Cal will take you there.”
Callum shot him a rather ironic look. “How?”
Rory clenched his jaw, realizing the flaw in his plan. In their haste to reach Edith in time, they’d flown straight here. They didn’t have a vehicle.
Here, ride this pegasus! was not the way he wanted to introduce her to the existence of shifters. He fully intended to reveal all his secrets tonight—especially now that she’d revealed hers—but he couldn’t cram it all into the next ten seconds.
Antler was far too tiny and remote a town to support a taxi service. He searched the parking lot for inspiration…and found it.
“Stay here for a sec,” he said, letting go of Edith’s hands. “I’ll be right back.”
Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode back into the bar. He winced as the so-called music assaulted his ears. If Edith’s hearing was anything like shifter senses, no wonder she’d been on the verge of overload.
