Deer Born

by Fleur Smith

  With another chuckle, Bambi shook her head. There was no way she would show him that part of her. No one in her life knew anything about it except for her adoptive family.

  “You don’t trust me?”

  She glanced down at her leg. “It’s a little hard to trust someone when they’re keeping you captive and refusing you medical treatment.”

  “My papa taught me how to fix broken bones. He didn’t want me going to the hospital.”

  “Why not?” Samson’s absolute determination to avoid the city at all costs stocked her curiosity. Sure the world could be dangerous for people like her who were something not-quite-human, but he didn’t seem to be anything like that. If she were able to change into her deer form, she’d know. In order to change, she’d enter the Ethereal plane and there, she’d be able to see his aura—or lack of.

  “Papa never liked people.” Samson’s eyes were glassy as he spoke.

  Bambi longed to know what he was seeing in his mind’s eye that kept him so transfixed.

  “He taught me how to hunt. I barely remember the first time he took me; I was so little. He’s the reason I live alone out here.”

  “How so?”

  “He didn’t trust anyone. Not since I was little. He always kept me and Mama close and would say the police would take us away from him if we didn’t stay close.”

  “Sounds like he was paranoid.” Bambi hadn’t intended to say the words aloud, but once they were free, she couldn’t roll them back. The snippet of information did give her some insight into Samson’s frame of mind though.

  Samson shook his head, still half lost in his memories. “No. He had reasons to be worried.”

  Bambi frowned. What had she become tangled in? “What were his reasons?”

  Samson’s eyes focused back on Bambi’s face. At once, shutters closed over his emotions, locking everything down. “Nothing.”

  “You know trust goes both ways, don’t you?” she asked. “Although I think I get bonus trust points because I didn’t kidnap anyone.” Despite her words, she kept a small smile on her face to show that she was trying for a conversational tone.

  He climbed to his feet instead of answering her question. “Did you want to try to walk? It’s probably too soon, but your leg is looking much better.”

  With a frown, she nodded. “I can try.”

  He offered his hand. “Let me help you.” He practically dragged her to her feet before she could refuse.

  With some trepidation, she sank a little of her weight back onto her leg. It didn’t feel too painful. It mustn’t have been as bad as she’d initially thought. Once more, the deer inside her nudged her for a chance at freedom.

  Clutching Samson’s forearm, she took a few steps, walking in a slow circle. “I’m doing it,” she said.

  The corners of Samson’s lips drooped. “Are you sure? Injuries like that can be deceptive.”

  Bambi drew her hand away from his arm and took a step on her own. There was a niggle of pain that ran through her calf, but a few hours in her other form and she’d probably be okay. “It must be the soup,” she said, lifting her head to grin at Samson. “It’s magic.”

  He frowned and stepped away from her. His voice was harsh and boomed around when he said, “There ain’t no such thing as magic!”

  Stunned by his instant turnaround, Bambi recoiled. The step she took landed heavily on her healing leg, and she stumbled and fell. As her ass hit the bracken that covered the ground, a jolt raced through her body, and her injured ribs protested violently.

  A screech of agony raced through her.

  Samson rushed to her side. “Are you okay?”

  She clutched at her side. “Do I look okay? Do I even look in the region of okay?”

  “Let me take a look at it.” He didn’t give her a chance to protest before grabbing her hand and pulling it from her injury.

  By the time she could muster up any thoughts, he had pulled her shirt up to inspect her ribs. “Excuse me!” she snapped. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Helping you with your sore ribs.” He reached for her again.

  She batted his hand away. “You need to learn a thing or two about consent.”

  He nursed his hand as he stared at her as though she’d just kicked his puppy. “I’m not doing anything I haven’t done before.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself. “That hardly matters. You need to ask permission before touching anyone.”

  He frowned at her.

  Did he not understand the simple concept? “It’s bad enough that you’re keeping me against my will, now you want to take away the last of my dignity and consent too?”

  His frown deepened. “But I need to make sure you didn’t do any more damage.”

  “You stupid oaf! Don’t you understand? I don’t want to be here. I don’t want you touching me. I just want to go home and heal in my own bed.”

  His gaze dropped to his feet. “If that’s what you really want.”

  “It’s what I’ve been asking for, isn’t it? God, everyone probably thinks I’m dead.”

  Without asking her permission, he scooped her up again.

  Instead of carrying her into the house, he took her straight to a truck parked down one side of the tiny cabin. Without a word, he walked around to the driver side and climbed behind the wheel.

  With his jaw clenched tightly, he pushed the key into the ignition and turned it.

  The engine made a ticking sound but didn’t turn over.

  “What’s going on?” Bambi asked.

  “The truck won’t start.”

  Bambi rolled her eyes. “I can see that! I’m asking why.”

  “If I knew that, I’d—” Samson sighed. “I’m gonna check it out.”

  He climbed out of the truck and Bambi huffed.

  She sat staring at the open hood while Samson tried to solve the issue. As the minutes passed, her impatience grew. After she’d counted to sixty in her head at least twelve times, she threw open the door. “What’s going on?”

  Samson dropped the hood and wiped off his hands. “I don’t know.”

  “So you’re not going to take me back to the city?”

  “I can’t if my truck is broken.”

  “How are you going to fix it if you can’t get back into the city?”

  “I have some spare parts. I just need some time.”

  “More time? How much more time?” If it took much longer, she’d probably be healed long before she could ever get to the hospital.

  “As much time as it takes. Now, relax. I’ll take you back inside.” He lifted her into his arms.

  “What did I just say about consent?” Bambi snapped.

  “Would you rather get yourself back to bed?”

  “That doesn’t matter. You could have asked first.”

  Samson placed her on the ground. “Do you want me to carry you inside or not?”

  She gritted her teeth. “Okay. Fine. This time. But then you need to fix your truck so you can take me home.”

  “I ain’t never had someone so bossy around.”

  “From what you’ve said, you haven’t had anyone around.” Bambi paused when she noticed the sorrowful look on his face. “For a while, at least.”

  “Not since my Momma passed.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Samson squared his jaw as he carried her into the tiny shack. “You didn’t do it.”

  “No, of course not. But I’m still sorry for your loss. I know what it’s like to lose your parents. At least, I kind of do.”

  Samson placed her onto the bed she’d spent so long in lately. “What do you mean?”

  Bambi didn’t want to say anything but changed her mind at the last moment. “My parents disappeared when I was just a little girl.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.” After a breath, Bambi added, “Look, we’re not friends. We’re not going to be friends. So I don’t want to get into all the nitty-gritty detai
ls of my life. I just want to get home.”

  Samson grunted and then left the room, leaving Bambi sitting on the bed with her arms crossed.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE NEXT MORNING, Bambi couldn’t find Samson anywhere. She managed to crawl herself out of bed and limp through the house to find him.

  She couldn’t find a sign of him in the small shack, anywhere outside, or even in the first few feet of the forest. When she was certain she was alone, she limped as far into the forest as she dared.

  Bambi centered herself and prepared to change. If her deer self had healed enough, she might be able to head home without waiting for Samson’s truck to be fixed. Letting the forest-green light inside of herself fill her until the bones in her body twisted and thinned. Her hands and feet curled into themselves, and she buckled forward. She closed her eyes as she waited for the pain of the change to dissipate even as her body twisted and morphed. Items that weren’t designed to stretch on a human distended into unnatural shapes as they pushed and pulled her into the correct shape for her animal form. That was the one thing, so many stories about animal shifters got wrong. She’d read so many books where shifters poofed between one shape and another without any consequences in between. Where was the pain? The screaming? The mind-shattering agony that made it near impossible to think of anything but the shifting pain? She’d found it all so unrealistic; she’d given up on the genre entirely.

  As the pain in her body dissipated, her head started to ache. A bleet left her lips as two lumps pushed out of the back of her head and branched into two giant antlers. That was another part of the whole deer thing that no one had been able to explain to her. All of her research told her that female deer didn’t have horns. Sure, reindeer maybe, but she wasn’t a reindeer. She didn’t think. Whatever combination of human, deer, and magic mixed together to allow her to move between two species got some details wrong. Not for the first time, she wished her parents had been there to explain why that was the case. To tell her that she wasn’t a freak of nature for having antlers.

  Or maybe she was.

  Maybe it was an oddity exclusive to her. It was something her brothers teased her about often enough. But they didn’t know any other deer shifters either.

  Giving herself over to thoughts of self-pity rather than focusing on the pain made the last of the transition from biped to quadruped pass faster than normal.

  Once she was certain the change was complete, she took a careful assessment of each of her limbs. None stuck out at awkward angles at least. The arm—leg—that had been dislocated had almost completely healed. Enough that she was able to rest her weight on it at least.

  The other one, the one on the back, she wasn’t sure would survive too many leaps or bounds. It would mean she would have to walk back to the city if she made a break for it. And she didn’t exactly know how much further away it was from Samson’s house compared to where he’d picked her up. It might’ve added an hour or more onto her journey.

  She wasn’t sure she’d make it that far.

  Still, she was determined to get the most out of her freedom, even if it was temporary.

  She took a few tentative steps. Her legs shook, and her flank ached, but her body held. Once she was satisfied her limbs would hold well enough, she moved through the undergrowth searching for morsels or any other treats she could find.

  The sunlight filtering through the trees warmed her from within, and after having her fill of food, she wanted to relax before returning to captivity. She curled up on the ground and dropped her head. Resting in her deer form helped to stretch out her aching muscles. The longer she could spend in her shifted form, the larger the health boost she would receive from her adventure.

  After a short break, she climbed back to her feet and tested her stability again. Her pain levels were already lower than it was when she first changed.

  She gave a few tentative leaps before deciding she should perhaps wait a little while longer before really letting loose. Her legs were still a little shaky.

  Just as she was deciding whether to head back to Samson’s shack, there was a near-silent thwack nearby, and then something whistled through the air toward her. Before she could move or process what was happening, an arrow sank into her flank.

  A scream left her as a prolonged bleat.

  On top of the injuries she already had, the arrow was enough to send Bambi over the edge. The shot sent her to the ground. As she fell, she shifted back to her human form. Her screams shifted from the bleat of a deer into a blood-curdling shriek.

  “What on earth?” The voice that spoke the words was familiar.

  Bambi pressed her hands around the arrow lodged in her side to staunch the blood flow from the wound in her side. “Help me!”

  Samson appeared through the trees an instant later. He was dressed in camouflage, and his scent was masked by moss and mud. Understanding struck Bambi hard. He was hunting. That was why he hadn’t been at his house that morning.

  “What are you doing out here?” he asked. Then his gaze dropped to her side. “What happened?”

  “You shot me!” she accused.

  “No. I-I was hunting a . . .” His gaze trailed over her again. “I need to get you back to the house.”

  “You think?” Bambi seethed between breaths as she tried to gain control over the pain. Her preference would have been for a hospital, but she already knew that the request would fall on deaf ears.

  Samson lifted her into his arms and carried her away from the site. His teeth gnawed on his bottom lip as he walked. Something was bothering him, and it was more than just the wound in Bambi’s side.

  SAMSON’S NIGHTMARE had come to life.

  He had no idea how, though.

  Or why.

  Or even whether he was going crazy and imagining it all.

  One thing was clear—he had aimed his arrow at a deer. It may have ended up in Bambi somehow, but it wasn’t a stray shot. It all felt too familiar, even though it was impossible.

  As he carried the injured Bambi through the forest, old worries surfaced. Warnings his father had given him rang through his mind. All of the reasons he kept away from the city followed closely behind.

  Only now he held in his arms, someone who could make all of that hard work meaningless.

  Halfway back to the house, Bambi passed out. He rushed a little faster, trying to jostle her lithe form as little as possible.

  As he went, flashes of his childhood nightmares assaulted him.

  It was impossible though.

  They were just nightmares. Dreams.

  There was no way the deer people were real.

  They couldn’t be.

  It was almost a relief when he reached the house because he was able to focus his attention on everything but his thoughts. Stopping the bleeding. Removing the arrow. Cleaning the wound. Stitching the wound. Task by task, he was able to ignore the horrors running through his head.

  At least until he’d done all he could. Then he had nothing left to still his mind.

  After checking on Bambi again, he retreated outside. Normally, he would have a thousand small tasks to keep him busy, and even when he didn’t he had no problems sitting alone with the quiet of his thoughts. Only now his mind wasn’t quiet, and he didn’t have any tasks to do. He’d finished everything off in anticipation of bringing home a deer to skin and butcher.

  He glanced over his shoulder at the shack he called home as if he could see straight through to the bedroom where Bambi was recovering from the wound he’d inflicted. With a long sigh, he turned back to the fire and stared into the dancing flames.

  As if he willed his memories into the embers, images danced in front of him. Things he’d forgotten and repressed. Things he’d thought were just part of his nightmares.

  In the years since then, he’d forced himself to forget so much of what had happened. He’d convinced himself he’d imagined it.

  He had to confront Bambi to see if she could offer the truth, but did
he really want to hear it?

  Maybe it would be easier if she just disappeared.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  WHEN BAMBI OPENED her eyes, it took her a few moments to recognize her surroundings.

  Once she did, she mentally kicked herself for not figuring out where she was sooner. After all, the too-low ceiling with intricate patterns of mold and damp was the one she’d woken to on so many other mornings. Just not any for the last few weeks.

  As soon as she tried to move, she regretted it. A rush of agony, strong enough to force her to clench her teeth, stabbed at her side. The bandage wrapped around her body, combined with the pain, was enough to prove to her that she hadn’t imagined her time in the forest. She hadn’t dreamed of Samson or his little forest getaway.

  But why was she back home?

  Why now?

  She thought about the last thing she could remember—Samson carrying her back to his cabin. Clutching at her side to try to hold the ache inside, she found her way to her feet. Her cell phone sat on the counter where she’d left it on charge . . . however many days ago it was when she’d gone for morels and not returned.

  With a swipe of her fingerprint, she opened it up to check her notifications. There were at least a dozen missed calls and messages—both voice and text—from her brother Barrett.

  Sliding onto one of the stools at her breakfast bar—the only thing that passed as a table in her shithole apartment—and called him back.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” he asked.

  The timbre in his voice made her wish she’d taken some painkillers before making the call. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  “Try me.”

  “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

  “We’ve been worried sick about you, Bambi. No one has heard from you. You stopped going to work. We followed your scent up to that field and saw the blood on the road, but you weren’t there, and the trail went dead. So how about you start there and stop avoiding the question.”

  “I was hit by a car.”

  “Jesus Christ, Bambi.”

  “Surprisingly, he had nothing to do with it. Unless he’s gotten a license recently.”