by Abby Niles
She’d be lost.
No. They had a relationship based around insults and anger. Of course there was a little confusion and necessary adjustments as they veered toward a more friendly association. Whatever was going on with her body now was just pure bewilderment. In her head and heart, she knew Britton was a womanizing cad.
It was just taking her body a little longer to remember that.
Determined to forget the man, she started to climb up a steep incline, following Charlie’s scent. Halfway up, the thick layer of leaves under her boot shifted and she slipped, stumbling to her knees. She grabbed hold of an oak sapling to stop from doing a complete face-plant. Dea, she hated nature.
Huffing, she pulled herself up. She needed to pay more attention to where she was stepping, and less on the devilish Britton Townsend, or she risked careering down one of the steep hills and killing herself.
When she crested the steep cliff, she looked down. Yeah, falling would be bad. The distance to the bottom seemed like miles. She felt tiny in comparison. Hell, she felt tiny with only the towering trees surrounding her. There was nothing out here but trees and bushes. And Dea knew what kind of creatures…sensing her, growing agitated at her presence. She yanked her gun from its holster and checked the magazine, already knowing it was fully loaded, but it comforted her to check anyway. It was times like this it sucked being a half shifter. If she was going to piss off the animals in the wild because of her shifter scent, it would at least be nice to have a beast to change into to escape. Unfortunately, as a female of the shifter species, she didn’t have that luxury.
And it made her feel very fragile.
She hated feeling fragile.
Pulling in a deep breath, she scanned the area. The boy’s scent was still strong, leading her deeper into the woods. But was it the right trail? They could eat up a whole day trying to figure which path was the decoy. They’d already wasted an hour.
She drew in a deep breath through her nose. Her talent at detecting scents wasn’t as good or as sharp as Britton’s. She’d been fooled by a damn piece of fabric. What if she was missing something vital?
As a test, she stepped a few feet off the trail. Charlie’s scent drastically decreased. That was good. It meant she was still on the right track.
For another hour and a half, she treaded carefully around some rather terrifying drop-offs, muttering unladylike obscenities under her breath about idiots and death wishes. Every ten minutes or when the ground leveled out, she’d wander a few feet off the trail to make sure nothing had changed.
Each time, the scent faded and she grew more confident that she wasn’t being fooled. But a few minutes later, she stepped forward and the scent dropped off drastically. She froze, sniffing. It had definitely changed. Taking a step back, she was once again surrounded by Charlie’s scent. Tentatively, she walked forward, concentrating hard on the much weaker smell. With each step it became fainter and fainter until the trail was completely gone.
Finally, they had their answer.
She dug her phone out of her jacket and called Britton.
“Yo!” he answered.
The smile that immediately came to her lips from hearing his voice irritated her. Focus, woman. “I’m on the decoy path.”
“Fuck,” Britton muttered, then made a sucking noise with his mouth. She knew the sound. She made it herself whenever she made a wrong call and was angry at herself for her decision.
“I wasn’t sure which path was right, either, Britton. You had to be sure.”
“By the time this is all said and done, we’ll have wasted almost five goddamn hours. Damn it!” He cursed again. “Get your ass down this mountain and meet me back at the spot where we split off. We’ll figure out where to go from there.”
“On my way.”
After she hung up, she hurried back the way she came.
Considering the vast amount of area they had to cover, they had eliminated the decoy path fairly quickly. But they had lost valuable time, which she was pretty sure had been the whole idea. How many more obstacles and stalling tactics were these jerks going to throw at them? The assholes had gotten into her head and made her doubt her abilities, and that was bullshit.
If Britton’s reaction was any indication, they’d gotten into his head, as well—or it could be fear of the High Council’s backlash if he made a wrong decision again. Which, on the face of it, seemed more probable.
Either way, she and Britton no longer completely trusted their instincts, and that was unacceptable.
Though it was only Tuesday and they had until Sunday to get this stopped, they needed to rescue Charlie before then. Not that she was afraid the kidnappers would hurt him—she wasn’t. Not only was the child the only leverage they had over the High Council, but Charlie was the literal poster child for mutant reform. If these people hurt one hair on the kid’s head, they would call down the wrath of the entire shifter community on them, not just the High Council’s.
At a sudden noise at the side of the trail, Val whipped around and peered into the dense foliage, relieved when a blue jay flew out squawking madly at her.
Wild animals were a real concern out here. They always were, when it came to shifter/animal encounters. Domesticated animals and even zoo animals didn’t react anymore to the outwardly human-looking creatures with two DNAs, because they had been around them long enough to know they did not pose a threat. Wild animals were different, though…and unpredictable. One animal might slink away, while another might attack. With a group of people as large as the kidnappers Charlie was with, hopefully he was safe. But she really wanted to get the kid out of these mountains and back to World Shifters—like yesterday.
About an hour into her descent, her stomach grumbled. Placing a hand on her belly, she halted. She hadn’t eaten anything since the eggs this morning and she’d burned those calories off within the first hour of hiking. Britton had said he’d packed a snack. She pulled off her backpack and grabbed the Ziploc bag inside. Nuts. Great.
She’d kill for a Kit Kat right about now. She started to zip open the bag when a flash of deep orange caught her attention. That looked like— She thrust her hand into the bag and pulled out the chocolate.
No way! Grinning, she had it unwrapped and devoured in seconds as she mentally thanked that wonderful man for remembering.
Wonderful?
Now he was wonderful?
But Britton was surprising her left and right, wasn’t he? He really wasn’t the ogre she’d always thought him to be. And from the way he now treated her, she no longer seemed to be a bitch to him. It was amazing how one moment could really change everything.
Shaking her head, she quickly ate the nuts for something a little healthier, and took a swig of water. The snack didn’t take away all her hunger pangs, but it helped tremendously. They’d have to make a big dinner tonight, loaded with carbs. She loved carbs.
Her stomach rumbled again. She was used to eating a good lunch. Nuts and chocolate weren’t going to hold her long. Shouldering her backpack, she took off. She was still an hour and a half hike away from where she and Britton had split off. But it was mostly downhill, which would hopefully make the trek quicker. As she carefully made her way down the steep mountainside, she used tree trunks and branches for support.
When she reached level ground, she breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, the next bit was on a flat surface, but she knew thirty minutes ahead the path would narrow as it bottlenecked onto a strip of rock ledge clinging to the steep, massive rock face where she’d slipped before. As she neared it, she paused. The scary-as-hell drop-off to her left sent anxious nerves tightening her stomach.
You came this way once and survived, you can do it again. The path really isn’t that narrow, anyway.
Yeah, right. She could try to fool herself all day long, but two people wouldn’t be able walk side by side on the leaf-covered trail.
Dea. Had she mentioned how much she hated nature?
Slow and steady, Calhoun. Sl
ow and steady.
Breathing deeply, she stayed close to the rocky upward slope, watching each step her feet took as she edged closer and closer to the end where the trail opened back up.
Almost there.
She started to relax.
You’ve got this.
She’d barely completed the thought when a wild, furry animal came crashing down directly into her path. Yelping, she stumbled back, her foot sliding on a thick pile of leaves, knocking her off balance. Her arms flailed, reaching for something, anything, for purchase.
Nothing was there.
Horrified, she tumbled backward into empty space. Hitting the ground hard, she started to roll, her body picking up speed, knocking into trees, rocks, and boulders that sent pain vibrating through her. She had no control. The world became a dizzying circle that spun around her. Twigs pulled at her hair, slapped at her face. Finally, she slammed against a stony surface. The sudden stop made her head snap forward and whack against something hard.
Pain exploded in her head and she groaned.
As she lay still, her body continued to spin, causing her stomach to lurch. After a few moments, the sensation eased and she opened her eyes, staring up at the soaring trees and the blue sky above her.
She was alive. Lifting her arms, she wiggled her fingers. Not broken. She shifted her legs. Seemed to work.
Wincing against the pain thumping in her forehead, she touched the area, surprised to feel wetness coat her fingertips. She pulled her hand back. Blood.
Muscles protested as she sat up, and she grimaced, but was relieved that no sharp pain stabbed at her middle. Nothing seemed to be damaged internally. A wave of dizziness assaulted her and she blinked it away.
Get up.
Listening to the mental command, she struggled to her feet.
Move.
She took one step, staggered, and collapsed into a pile of nothingness.
…
For the fifth time, Britton glanced at his watch. What the hell was taking Val so long?
He’d made his two-an-a-half-hour trek back and had been waiting by a tree for the last thirty minutes without one sign of her. He wasn’t sure how far she’d gotten, but she should’ve been back by now since they’d left at the same time.
He tugged his phone out and dialed her number.
Voice mail.
Unease compressed his chest. Even if she’d been passing through a zone with no bars earlier, she should have answered by now.
Something was wrong.
He thrust his phone back into his pocket and inhaled deeply. Before now he hadn’t investigated Val’s unique scent, but he picked it up easily among the grass and the honeysuckle.
Strawberries. Ripe, juicy strawberries.
His beast stirred. Britton rubbed his side. It’d been so long since he’d felt the sensation of another life living within him, he’d almost forgotten how the slightest movement from the animal caused a ripple effect inside his torso. Not an unpleasant feeling, not at all. It was welcome, enthralling…something he hadn’t realized he’d missed until he’d felt it again.
His beast was coming back to him.
But he couldn’t fixate on that right now. He had to find Val.
He glanced at his watch. Almost four thirty. They had about an hour and half of sunlight left, two max. That wasn’t good. The day had been relatively warm, but once twilight crept in, the temps would drop fast. Neither of them was equipped for the cold.
Damn it. A fail on his part. That was the second damn one today. Why hadn’t he gone with his instinct? Not only had he made the decision to separate, it was his fault they’d wasted the entire day proving what he’d already known was true. And now Val was MIA.
Fuck.
He took off at a fast clip toward the southwest. She could be anywhere by now. They’d hiked for over two hours in opposite directions. That was a lot of mountain. At least her scent was strong since she’d just walked through here. And he didn’t detect any other smells to indicate she’d been abducted. Thank Dea.
As he trudged deeper into the woods, he refrained from yelling her name. Whoever had the boy must know Val was out here, but calling attention to her location could prove detrimental to the case—not to mention Val’s well-being. Even so, the need to shout her name grew stronger as each step increased his rising panic.
When her scent suddenly split off to the right, he jerked his head in that direction, inhaling deeply. The boy’s scent went straight ahead. But so did hers. Why had she gone off trail?
He veered to the right after it, but the strawberry aroma disappeared about twenty feet in.
Weird. Had she turned around again?
He backtracked to the original path and continued on, but once again her scent split off. And again. Every ten minutes or so it happened.
What had she been doing? The instructions had been simple. Follow Charlie’s scent. It was a clear fucking line. Why would she keep walking off it? No one had a bladder that small.
Damn frustrating woman. Making things more difficult than they needed to be. He dug out his phone and dialed her number. Voice mail again.
Panic clawed at his chest for real. Where the hell was she?
Sensing his agitation, his beast stood and started to pace, tail whipping back and forth. Britton rubbed his side again, the ripple taking him off guard. His beast. He could use his beast.
Help me find her. I need to find her.
The animal roared, but no tingles of change erupted over his body. Britton ground his teeth together. In animal form he could cover more ground, faster. But once again, his nature failed him when he needed it the most.
No longer caring if he gave away their location, he finally bellowed, “Val!”
No response, except the wind rustling through the leaves.
As fear gripped his throat, he quickened his pace, all but running. He had to find her. She had to be okay.
“Val!”
As he neared a steep mountain of rock he saw that the narrow path cut right across it. He slowed his pace. Dea. The guy had said this was a hiker-friendly area. This was not friendly, especially to someone like Val who wasn’t used to walking out in nature.
Staying close to the rock face, he eased onto the narrow trail. He made it halfway, when her scent suddenly shifted abruptly to the left—right over the edge. He moved closer. Steep. Long way down.
No. He refused to believe it, but scents didn’t lie.
And hers pointed straight down.
Heart in his throat, he slid down the incline after her, keeping his balance by throwing his weight backward. A flash of silver caught his attention, and he grabbed on to a bush to stop his descent. He climbed back up and found her phone. A few feet from that lay her compass.
Shit.
He fought to accept what the evidence was telling him. She’d come this way—and not willingly. Looking down the remainder of the slope, he realized he’d barely made it a third of the way down.
Fuck.
“Val!”
Again she didn’t answer.
Terrified at what he might find, he slid the rest of the way on his butt. As he neared the bottom he noticed a lump with white-blond hair sprawled on the ground. It felt as though someone had sucker punched the air out of his lungs.
“No!” he rasped, then scrambled over and knelt by her side. “Val?” he whispered, pulse thundering.
In response to her name, she moaned softly, then turned her head toward him, but her eyes remained closed. Blood ran down the side of her face from a huge goose egg on her forehead.
His beast went crazy, caterwauling and shoving forward. Need to heal her overcame him. Yet his body remained unchanged…unresponsive. No euphoria of giving himself over to his beast’s demands. The animal gnashed its razor teeth. He understood its aggravation. Helplessness did that—whether beast or human.
Britton checked the side of her neck and was relieved to find a strong, steady pulse.
He braced his arms
on both sides of her body and brought his face close to hers, scared to touch her, for fear of making any injury worse. “Val?”
Her eyes fluttered open. A soft sigh came from between her parted lips, and as she stared at him, she reached out a hand to cup his cheek. “Violet. Beautiful.”
Violet? What the hell was she talking about?
And then it hit him. Holy shit. She saw his beast in his eyes.
She winced.
“What’s the matter?”
“My head…hurts like a mother.”
“You’ve got a pretty big bump on that noggin of yours. We need to have it checked out.”
She tried to shake her head, but grimaced at the attempt. “The High Council will be furious.”
Probably. “I really don’t give a shit. Anything else hurt? Arms? Legs? Spine?”
“I just rolled down a damn hill. What do you think?” she muttered as she pushed up.
“Whoa. Should you be moving? What if—”
“I’m fine, Townsend. Help me the hell up.”
He gently helped ease her up into a sitting position, the snark bringing a smile to his lips. At least she had the energy to be her usual sarcastic self. “You really think you should stand?”
“I don’t want to stay out here all night, do I?”
Chuckling, his concern faded. He’d still get her checked out by Miles Bradley—his friend who was a shifter and a doctor—but he was pretty sure she was going to be fine. “Okay. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
After making sure she wasn’t going to flop right back over, he riffled around in his bag and took out the first aid kit. He ripped open a few antiseptic wipes and gently cleansed the caked-on blood from her cheek. He kept his attention on the streak of dark red running down her face, but made the mistake of meeting her eyes. Air whooshed from his lungs as a powerful kick knocked him straight in the chest.
