by Kim Faulks
“Concussion,” he murmured, and then touched his body. “Nothing broken.” He winced as he moved his leg. “My knee…I’ll need a splint.” He looked up at me, desperation flared. “I’ll need a splint. Something straight and long, like a branch, and bandage or a sheet. Sheet. Do you have one of those?”
I stepped backwards, moving around the soft coat and hunkered down. Sheet…sheet. “Sheet.” I waited and watched. Ace pushed upward, pain twisted hard lips. I knew pain…knew it well.
Spirit should heal him. Spirit and sleep. He gripped the edge of the floor and pushed, sliding his ass out of the den to sit on the floor. Hard breaths came as he rested, waited, and stared at the open trap door. “That’s your den, right?” He touched the latch and the worn edges of the wood. “Fucking smart. You build this?”
I waited, reaching out, touching the warm brown of my mother.
“Too old…” He looked around and stilled at the spirit of my father. “This has been here a long time. Your father right?”
He winced and shoved his foot against the floor, sliding backwards toward me. But he didn’t touch what was mine. “This your family? Your parents?”
“Father…mother,” I whispered, sinking fingers into the bristles. “Human came. Human killed. Human took everything.”
Brown dulled. Black sparked. “I’m sorry about that,” he murmured. “More sorry than you know. But that’s not me, you understand that, right? That’s not me. I won’t hurt you. I won’t kill…not you.”
And for some reason his words seemed to find me. I slowly nodded and stared at his leg. The knee was locked by pain. He couldn’t walk, not far, not fast. He followed my gaze, and then found me once more. “I need my rifle and my pack. Do you understand?”
He lifted his hands, cupped his palms and lifted to his line of sight. “Gun…rifle. And my pack. I need my pack. Can you take me back there? Back to where you found me?”
I shook my head. No back…only run. Only hide, and survive.
His shoulders slumped, hands hit the floor beside him. “I have to go back, don’t you understand that? My brother…” He brushed his hand toward my father’s coat. “He’s like family to me. He’s the closest I got. I have to find him. I have to make sure he’s safe. Do you understand that? I have to protect him.”
Protect…protect I understood. Protect I knew. Protect I felt like the sun inside my chest. I pushed against the floor, scooting forward to grasp his hand. Warm fingers…I pressed over my heart. Protect I understood. His palm cupped my breast, gaze fixed on his hand.
“Protect,” I whispered. “Protect from Human. Protect from black birds. Protect from bang…bang…bang.”
His gaze shot up to meet mine. “Yes, protect against bang…bang…bang. But I need to get there. I need to get back.”
His tongue snaked out, licking his lips. I could see him now in the sunlight. The side of his face was starting to darken and swell. He was wounded, like a kill waiting for a hunter. I shoved up from the floor and moved around him to leap back into the den. The soft pouch sat against the corner, half filled. I grasped the leathered hide and lifted.
Like a hunter without a kill.
Protect. The need soared as I climbed from the den and pressed the soft flask to his lips.
He drank with long swallows, taking all he could until a trickle raced down his lips.
Protect. I slid closer, pressing warmth to warmth.
He needed food…I stared at his outstretched leg, to his thigh and the metal…to the bang…bang…bang.
He needed Spirit to heal him. There was only one place I knew. A place where Spirit once thrived, where it might thrive again. The thought grew as I pulled away from the warmth as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
I would take him there—to my people—to my kind.
There he would find Spirit—or Spirit would find him.
20
Ace
“Food, do you have any food?”
She stared as I fed air into my mouth, and cocked her head. My belly howled, drawing her gaze…and her focus lingered.
Her lips parted, tongue crept out.
But I wasn’t the only one starving…I swallowed hard. I was far from the most powerful here.
My heart responded, punching adrenaline through my veins. She carried me for hours, through a river, and over rocks with barely more than a heavy breath. She lived here…on her own. How many beasts had she fought? How many had she killed—just to fucking survive?
She was strong and powerful, far more than me.
A predator…
My balls tightened as she stared, and all those images came to life.
The ones where the dead lay exposed, ribs cracked open, lifeless eyes staring at the sun—with all their organs removed.
They eat the soft parts first, right? Any hungry predator does. All those nutrient rich organs—and there were plenty in there.
The howl in my belly ended. All of a sudden my hunger didn’t seem so fucking important.
“Eat,” she mirrored and wrenched her gaze to mine. “Eat…but not Human…not Ace.”
She shoved against the floor, grasped the manmade flask from my grip and strode from the room. She barely made a sound. I tried to track her movements, a small scuff here, the floorboards moaned there, until silence…the kind that made me nervous.
Agony stabbed my damn knee with a fucking machete. I winced, gripped the sides of my khakis and wrenched. The hemline stilled at my calf. I worked the fabric higher, until it bunched at my knee. The skin was swollen, red and darkening. I pressed my fingers to the flesh…and felt the heat.
Goddamn it.
I sucked in a hard breath, clenched my jaw, and tried to bend. The pain was instant, spearing through bones and flesh, filling my head with a fucking roar. Inch by inch. I ground my teeth until something in my jaw cracked, whimpered, and stilled.
A moan slipped free as I eased the leg straight. Not broken…not broken. Still the injury was bad, torn ligaments, muscle ruptured—enough to know I wasn’t strolling out of here. “Fuck…Fuck!”
I clenched a fist and punched the floor. My fingers trembled as I worked the hemline on my trousers down. I had one Sig strapped to one thigh, and two full magazines. Thirty in the mags, and one in the chamber. Not enough…not nearly e-fucking-nough.
I needed my Tac, and I needed my bag. I had supplies, rations, meds, strapping. I stared at the holsters. I could use them, but I needed something strong and straight, something I could use as a brace.
My fingers skimmed hard bristles. I dropped my gaze to the skin. Black and silver coarse hair mingled across the thick coat. The hide was big enough to cover most of the damn floor. Her father, right? Her father…the black and white image sharpened in my mind as I skimmed the edges of the other.
The fur was softer, thicker…rich brown, darkening in places like burnt chocolate. I found the skulls, empty sockets obsidian eyes once filled. The jaws fucking massive. The canines weren’t just long, they were thick. I stared at my fingers and swallowed hard—the fangs were bigger.
The goddamn power…could crush a man’s skull.
Footsteps wrenched my gaze toward the doorway as my hand went for my holster. She slipped through the doorway. Her gaze found my hand on my weapon and she stilled. The spark in her eyes dulled for a second, making me yank my fingers away.
“Eat,” she whispered and stepped close. “Eat.”
Her long legs buckled as she dropped to the floor. She moved with the kind of grace humans could never mimic, the kind animals kept all for themselves. She opened her cupped hands, berries and tiny nuts spilled toward me.
Her belly snarled as she waited. I reached out, grasped a plump blackberry and slipped it into my mouth. Sweetness rushed, stilling my breath with the first bite. I chewed, swallowed and reached for another. The nuts were small, tasting like dirt. I picked two and three from the floor and then stilled.
She stared, following my hands to linger on my mouth
. I swallowed, and then held out my hand. “I’m sorry…you must be hungry too, right?”
She tilted her head and those perfect almond shaped eyes lifted to mine.
My fingers unfurled, tiny brown nuts slipped into the grooves. My muscles trembled as I waited. “Eat,” I urged. “We share.”
Her brow narrowed, piercing gaze bore into mine. She shoved her foot against the worn floorboards sliding away. I could hear her body. I could see the need. “You won’t though, will you? You won’t eat because in your eyes I need it more. Human right? Not immortal, not like a shifter.”
She dropped her gaze to my hand. She was smart…fucking smart.
Instinct ruled, but her compassion was the one thing she clung to.
I nodded and fed the food into my mouth. Thank you wasn’t enough. Words weren’t enough.
Her warmth still lingered in my body, her touch in my mind. She poked, prodded and licked what she wanted. There was no embarrassment, and no shame, only a will to touch, to hold—to consume…and to protect.
I swallowed the last seed and wiped my mouth. Water slapped the side of the pouch as she moved closer and held out her hand. I nodded, took the manmade flask and dragged the leather skin to my lips.
Cold carved through my mouth and slid down my throat. I swallowed, washing down the last trace of the berries and dropped my hand. It wasn’t enough, but it would do for now.
Find a splint, and make my way back. The drive gathered momentum as those last fragments reared. Alpha screaming, the flare of gunshots in the damn dark. We made a mistake…we made a fucking mistake.
We expected they’d send their best. But not once did I think they’d send shifters.
Shifters that wielded weapons like a man. X’s unmerciful howls filled my head. Shifters that hunted their own kind. Jesus…it was a fucking massacre, and they were still out there.
Wounded…but alive—they had to be alive.
I strangled any seed of doubt that came my way as my guardian rose from the floor. “Spirit,” she murmured and glanced to the hide of her parents. “Spirit will heal.”
She grasped the flask in my hand and strode from the room. A trickle of water rang out, and then soft steps echoed as she came back. The thick hide around her shoulders glistened as she strode through the room, carving a path through the morning sun. “Spirit will guide.”
She crouched, grasped my arm with one hand and my belt with the other, and lifted.
Two hundred pounds. Two hundred pounds of endless sit-ups, of running, of sparring, of fighting…of lifting iron… The breath left my lungs as she settled me over her shoulder and then drove her heel into the floor to stand.
Two hundred-motherfucking pounds, and she just lifted me like I was nothing. The floorboards moaned under the weight as she stepped, twisted to move through the doorway and made for the open front door.
I stared at the shack as we left. Hand sawn timber walls were made with precision, carved idols adorned the door. The place was small and old…big enough for two…all the way out here in the middle of nowhere.
She trod a well-worn path from the open area to sink into the forest and the trees. My body rocked with the familiar gait, as she headed farther east. Birds called overhead. The snap of a twig at our right, but she never slowed, never stopped—only kept walking, striding out while I jerked and swung.
“I can walk…if you put…me…down.” The brunt of her shoulder in my stomach punctured each word. “I just need a splint.”
She never turned her head, never acknowledged I spoke at all. A shadow moved through the forest behind us…spearing out, giving her a wide berth, and the massive bear skulls surfaced.
The wolves were afraid of her, just like X.
Dangerous, X had whimpered and backed away from the scent. She’s hurt, Alpha, and she’s pissed…
The image of her wound reared. She’d been bleeding at her side. A bullet wound, maybe a through and through.
I dropped my gaze to her spine and followed the contour. Her handmade shirt was filthy and torn, but there was no blood. The bearskin covered her front. I didn’t see the blood.
The forest floor rose up and then took a sharp dive. Her feet slipped over slick pine needles and dirt. But she never faltered, she never even slowed.
“Spirit,” she murmured. “Spirit for Ace.”
Only then did I see it. The carvings. The huts, hunkered between the trees. Four. No, more…a lot more. My stomach clenched as she slowed. She was taking me to her kind, leaving me here…so she could go back home.
My chest tightened, desperation flared. She’d done enough. She’d done more than enough.
She’d protected, saved. Risked her damn life…for me. I scanned the thorny brushes and the trees, waiting for movement…waiting for them to come.
Corded muscles clenched as she gripped my belt and tugged, leaving me to slide along her body before she caught my fall. I shoved out with my left foot and hit the ground as she lowered me to a seat carved from a fallen pine.
The camp was quiet, too quiet. Were they hiding? Smelled human and fled? She eased backwards, staring at my face. “Spirit,” she whispered. “Spirit will help. Spirit will heal.”
I felt the fucking distance as she took another step backwards, felt it in the damn beat of my heart. I was a Marine, and I’d seen my fair share of war. I’d killed, hurt, maimed…cared when I was there. But hadn’t needed, not anything or anyone—until now.
“Wait,” I growled and scanned the forest. “Just wait a minute…let me think. Let me try to understand.”
But she never waited, only took another step, skirting the black remnants of a fire—one that had been burned many times, over years…centuries even. Coal lined the edges and piled high. But fresh shoots of green grass speared through the middle…the blackened edges of branches were crushed under paws…and feet.
I glanced to my guardian and tried to figure it out. She gave a slow nod and took another pace backwards, moving around the outside of a hut. She was leaving me…but for who?
No growls came from the forest. No calls from birds above. I opened myself, using instinct to guide me and scanned the floor for a brace that I could walk with, or one I could wield as a weapon.
I glanced to my Sig. Gunshots would carry…those Shadow bastards could still be close. But I would…if I had to. Instinct moved, carving through the trees, finding friend or foe.
Something moved at my left. Not my guardian. The breeze picked up and moved across the quiet camp in a whirlwind, kicking up fragments of black coal to scatter at my feet.
Again—moving carefully, like the damn wind.
They were fucking quiet.
I licked my lips and dropped my hand to my holster. “Who’s there?”
The forest floor crunched, something snapped. A blur moved behind the trees, a child—small, pale…lonely.
“Hey,” I called. “Hey there, it’s okay…”
Still he hid. Peeking out for a second only to slip backwards once more. I shoved up, hopping for a second before I found balance. “You can come out, I’m not going to hurt you.”
I wanted to step closer, wanted him to see I was nothing like the monsters in the chopper, wanted him to see I was safe…I was trusted. I pressed my boot into the ground. Agony rammed a steel shard through my knee. I hobbled, twisting at the hip to ease the strain and stumbled forward.
Sweat beaded along my brow and gathered substance. The trail slipped, stinging my eyes. The kid moved again, coming closer. I swiped the back of my hand across my face, but the damn forest blurred, stealing the movement.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I pleaded and took another step, coming up to the corner of the hut.
I turned my head, and stilled. My guardian was here…seconds ago. I saw her move around the corner. I gripped the smooth knots that made up the door and hopped. “Hey,” I called. “Hey, guardian…bear woman…”
This was fucking ridiculous. I leapt, skidded with my good foot. My knee
locked and released sending me slamming into the wall. Agony roared, stealing my breath as the wave passed. She was playing games…I peeked around the rear…finding nothing. “Okay, this is funny. Just a game right? Game to play on the human. You’ve had your fun now…come on, game’s over.”
I glanced at the trees and the pale shadow of a boy in hiding. He looked familiar…too familiar.
But he was too far away. I licked dried lips and felt something inside tremble. “Game’s over now,” I whispered, but my words shook. “I want you to come out. I need you to come out now.”
He took a step, moving through the forest with gangly legs, and for a second I didn’t understand.
My brain wouldn’t work…wouldn’t put it all together until he passed a dense thicket filled with deep purple berries waiting to pick. But the child didn’t walk around it…he moved through it, with no more than a whisper…no shake of a berry, no bow of a stem.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I stumbled backwards, kicking the dirt, careening through the air until I hit the ground.
The kid moved closer, taking one slow step at a time until he hovered at the edge of the forest and one step away from the camp.
“Spirit will save you,” my guardian whispered, stepping in from the other side. She turned her head, stared at the child and held out her hand. “Spirit will heal.”
21
Ghost
Spirit waited…taking one last look before he stepped away. An ache flared with the sight. I wanted to reach for him…wanted to plead, don’t go. But he moved too fast until in a blink the child was no more.
“Who the fuck was that?”
Human shoved from the ground, wobbled, and stared at the trees with wide unseeing eyes. “Where the fuck did you come from?”
His lips curled in fear as he stabbed the air toward the hut. “I saw you right there. Right fucking there.”
