by Ranae Rose
Chapter 8
Something tickled Mandy’s ear, making it itch. The annoyance was something she’d just have to live with, because her limbs were heavy as lead, impossible to move. Besides, her lungs were on fire, which proved a distraction, if an unwelcome one. Her body was an immobile mass of suffering. And she was suffocating. Realizing that, she sucked in a breath, which felt like a mistake. Fresh agony knocked the air right back out of her lungs. She wasn’t sure what had happened, or how she had died, but she was clearly in Hell.
“Mandy!” A low voice cut through her half-formed speculations, gloriously familiar.
Jack. She tried to say his name, but it bounced off the walls of her mind, trapped inside. Frustrating, but at least she knew now that she hadn’t passed into eternal damnation. A sensation that had nothing to do with pain filled her as a roughened hand cupped her cheek and Jack said her name again.
“She’s human again!” Jack’s voice was exultant, hopeful now. “I think it’s working.”
She didn’t know what he was talking about, but the sound of his voice was a balm to her body and mind. Longing flooded through her as she pictured his face, remembering how it had looked as he’d made love to her. She had to see him.
Opening her eyelids was like lifting a car, but she finally managed and was rewarded by the sight of the most perfectly handsome man she’d ever seen. His hair was standing on end, there were flecks of blood on his jaw and his eyes were gleaming with something halfway between insanity and tentative joy, but she still thought so. Another man stood – no, towered – some distance behind him. Her heart sped as terrifying memories sent a jolt of awareness through her mind. “Jack.” It came out a whisper, though she’d meant to scream his name in warning.
“I’m here, sweetheart.” He picked up one of her hands and held it to his mouth, his lips brushing it in what might have been a kiss, or perhaps a silent prayer. The floorboards creaked beneath the other man as he shifted his weight, but Jack seemed unconcerned.
How was he not dead? She didn’t have the ability to ask – not yet, but the question ate at her from the inside as she stared at the enormous park ranger who had raised his gun and fired at Jack. Had he really missed from such a short distance? What the hell was he doing here? She forced her tired eyes to focus on her surroundings. ‘Here’ turned out to be the inside of Jack’s cabin. She was lying on what felt like the kitchen table, directly next to the largest window. Moonlight filtered through the panes, and the curtain was what had tickled her ear. She would have thought she’d imagined the shooting, but there was no denying that she’d been hit. The only mystery was how Jack had survived and why the ranger was here, and the hunter gone…
She turned her gaze to the moon. Was it working its healing magic on her body? Maybe that was why Jack had laid her beside the window to be chilled as the glass pressed against her shoulder. As she stared at the silvery sliver in the sky, the fog of shock gradually faded from her mind. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been lying there in silence by the time she worked up the presence of mind to ask the questions that had been teasing her. Jack had been holding her hand the entire time, his lips hot against her knuckles. “Weren’t you shot?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No, you were.” He sounded anything but happy about it. Mandy turned her attention to his hair, which was sticking up off of his skull in spiky tufts like so many porcupine quills. He must have raked his hands through it a hundred times. Was that a nervous habit he had? She knew so little about him, and yet, she felt so close to him, as if they were linked in some invisible, intangible way.
“I know. But there was a second gun shot. I thought you were dead.” Tears stung the back of her eyes and she blinked furiously, determined to keep them at bay.
“Ronnie shot the hunter, not me.”
“Who the hell is Ronnie?”
The floorboards creaked as someone moved in the background, and a large hand waved in the air above Jack’s head.
“A friend of mine,” Jack said.
“The ranger is your friend?” She lowered her voice, which rendered it almost inaudible. “He knows?”
Jack nodded. “He’s a shifter too.”
That was the only explanation that could possibly make any sense of the shooting she’d misinterpreted, but it didn’t match up with what Jack had told her before. “I thought you said there were no other shifters in these mountains.”
“I said there weren’t any other wolf shifters.”
Mandy sighed, the pain in her chest flaring as she did so. “But the hunter – he’s dead?”
“He is. Ronnie took care of him.” He kissed her knuckles one by one, and the heat from his lips spread throughout her entire body. “I wish I’d had the good sense to leave you in that den.”
She sighed again, and even as pain shot through her chest like forked lightning, she didn’t regret that she’d gone with Jack. Thinking of waiting alone for him in the dark shelter hollowed from the earth was soul-crushingly depressing. What if she’d stayed behind and that had caused things to go differently, if even the tiniest bit? Jack could be dead somewhere, and she still waiting anxiously for his return. “I’m healing, right?”
“You must be. When I first carried you in, I thought you were gone.” His eyes bored into hers, golden-hazel, gleaming a little more than usual. “You were still in your wolf form, and you wouldn’t shift back. The silver bullet…”
A shiver wracked Mandy’s body as she imagined dying that way, her only earthly remains that of a wolf. Thank God she hadn’t.
“Believe it or not, this is a huge improvement.” He waved his hand in the air above her body.
She looked down, a jolt of shock causing her to forget all about her other thoughts. “Jack! I’m naked!” She said the last word through gritted teeth. She wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing, and he hadn’t bothered to cover her with so much as a blanket. True, she wouldn’t have cared if she and Jack had been alone together, but Ronnie was there, and she was lying on display against the window. Not that there should be anyone out there to see her, but it just felt wrong.
“The moonlight needs to hit your body – as much of it as possible.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, pretending she was fully clothed. “At least tell me you put on the bandage.” A thick one was wrapped snugly around her torso, just below her breasts. A red stain marked where the bullet had entered her.
“Actually, as a ranger, Ronnie is an expert in first aid. I helped him.”
Oh God. Maybe she should have been more grateful after her brush with death, but at the moment, it was difficult to feel anything but mortification. At least Ronnie was courteous enough to lurk at the other side of the room.
“We figure the bullet missed your heart by a fraction of an inch,” a deep, unfamiliar voice rumbled, as if in apology, from the vicinity of the refrigerator.
Jack nodded. “Went clean through. You were lucky.”
She squeezed his hand back. “Yeah, I guess I am.” Affection for Jack surged through her, making her heart swell. The last time she’d been conscious, she’d thought they were dying just yards apart – like the mates Jack thought they were, separated only by death. She’d taken some solace in that fact, even as she’d despaired.
“How do you feel? Any better than when you woke up?”
She took a deep, cautious breath, measuring the agony it incited. “I think I do feel somewhat better.”
Jack smiled. An hour ticked by slowly, and still, he never quit. Mandy’s pain ebbed as he remained by her side, and she became more alert. She devoted most of her attention to Jack, simply absorbing the sight of the ruggedly handsome face she’d thought she’d never see again. But when a flash of light reflected in the windowpane caught her eye, she turned her head. “What’s that?”
Jack rose from the chair he’d been sitting in, peering intently out the window. To Mandy’s embarrassment, Ronnie joined him. He seemed to only have eyes for possible danger lurking out
side though, and didn’t so much as glance at her as he towered at Jack’s side, a mountain of bronze muscle and dark, shaggy hair that had been tamed into some semblance of order by a short cut. “Headlights,” he growled. “Could be a second hunter.”
Jack nodded slowly, his eyes gleaming with vicious suspicion.
“But we only smelled one in the woods,” Mandy said, hoping against hope that the fact meant there wasn’t a second gun-wielding psycho on the mountain.
“He could have contacted another hunter when he found out there was a second wolf,” Jack said. “They’re usually pretty stingy with their targets and hunt alone, unless there’s more than one shifter for them to murder. He might’ve been willing to share a second kill with a family member or good friend.”
A chill raced down Mandy’s spine, and she shivered against the hard oak tabletop.
Jack laid a hand on her shoulder and his warmth helped to steady her. “Don’t worry. Ronnie and I will take care of him.”
The headlights, which had been just about to pass the obscure turnoff into Jack’s driveway, veered suddenly.
“Damn it,” Jack growled. “He’s coming straight for the cabin. The first hunter probably told him he’d be waiting here.” He scooped Mandy into his arms, moving her away from the window. “Ronnie, turn off the light.”
The room went dim, but the moonlight filtering through the window offered modest illumination.
The sound of a rifle being readied for action echoed through the small room as Jack eased her onto the pile of blankets he kept on the floor. There, she’d hopefully be under the line of fire. She swallowed the knot of anxiety that had formed in her throat as the sound of a truck’s rumbling engine grew louder. Seizing a blanket, she drew it over herself for cover. Eventually the noise stopped and boots crunched quietly on grass and a few loose leaves. Jack kicked off his jeans and shifted, becoming a wolf standing guard in front of Mandy. She watched his muscles tense beneath his thick fur and prayed that he’d come out of this confrontation unscathed, as he had the last one.
“Cooper?” a male voice called from outside. “You here?”
“That was the first hunter’s name,” Ronnie said under his breath. “Saw it on the ID he kept in his wallet.”
“Got your message about the bitch,” the man called, his boots scraping as he paced in front of the house. When she strained to peer around Jack’s legs, Mandy could make out his silhouette passing in front of the window. Luckily, it was dark enough inside that he shouldn’t be able to see them. “Reckon she’ll look mighty fine mounted on the wall beside her mate.” He chuckled at the idea.
A low growl rumbled in the pit of Jack’s chest, and he drew his lips back to expose huge fangs that the oblivious hunter couldn’t see. Ronnie had his rifle at the ready, the butt pressed against his huge shoulder. The hunter didn’t stand a chance.
The man’s laughter died abruptly as he rounded the other side of the house. There, the ground was surely dirty, the grass doused in the blood of his companion, and from Mandy. From that angle, Ronnie’s truck should also be visible.
“Shit,” the hunter huffed, and then wood and glass started flying. Bang! Bang! Deafening gunshots shattered the quiet as the hunter discharged his weapon at the cabin in apparent panic.
Jack threw himself over Mandy, his huge, wolfy body covering her from head to toe. She couldn’t see what Ronnie was doing, but heard him fire his rifle in response.
The bullets from outside kept coming. A feral roar filled the cabin as Ronnie threw down his gun, and then the front door was swinging crazily on its hinges as he charged through it. Mandy was just able to catch sight of a hulking animal charging out onto the front porch.
Ronnie roared. The man screamed an unintelligible war cry, and gunshot continued to tear through the night. “Fucking shifter!” Those words were the last thing the hunter said before a sickening crunch of strong animal flesh meeting a much weaker body resounded, and the gunfire ceased. One last ferocious roar, a coordinating whap, and it was over. A huge black bear appeared at the threshold, where the door was hanging open crookedly. He shifted into an almost equally sizeable man, minus the ranger uniform he’d been wearing when he’d exited the cabin.
A little heat crept into Mandy’s cheeks, but it was easy to keep her eyes above waist level as he flipped on the light – blood was streaming down his left arm. By the looks of it, he’d taken a bullet just below the shoulder.
Jack transformed and climbed hurriedly back into his jeans. “Damn it if those bastards didn’t shoot every one of us before they went out.” He scooped Mandy into his arms again and carried her to the table, where she could bathe in the moonlight. She snatched up a blanket, determined to maintain some scrap of modesty this time.
“You’re gonna have to dig out the bullet,” Ronnie said stoically, bracing himself against the cabin wall with one beefy arm. The opposite side of the cabin was in shambles, the floor littered with splintered wood and bits of broken glass.
“Right,” Jack said, picking up a first aid kit that was presumably Ronnie’s.
Ronnie was motionless as Jack tended his wound, following Ronnie’s instructions. When Jack pulled out the bullet with a pair of forceps, Ronnie roared, and there was nothing human about the bear-like sound. Jack didn’t even flinch. They really must be friends.
“Silver,” Jack said, holding the large, tapered bullet up to gleam in the moonlight.
Mandy pressed her hand over her bandage, and her body ached in sympathy for Ronnie. Of course, Jack had felt the bite of a silver bullet too. Thankfully, moonlight had reduced his wound to nothing but two scars that marked the entry and exit points. She pressed her cheek against the cool windowpane. Her wound was healing too – with every moment that passed, her pain faded, just a little.
Ronnie grunted and rose to his feet when Jack finished bandaging his arm.
“Where are you goin’?” Jack asked. “Maybe you should sit down for a while.”
“Just gettin’ a new uniform outta my truck. I always keep a spare in there.”
He shuffled out, remarkably steady on his feet for someone who’d just had a bullet dug out of his body.
Ronnie stayed outside for longer than expected, and when he came back in, his features were remarkably solemn. “I can’t stay much longer – I’ve got work to do.”
Jack nodded solemnly.
“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Mandy asked. “You were just shot.”
Ronnie tipped his head in her direction. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine. This ain’t the first time I’ve taken a bullet, and I doubt it’ll be the last.” He turned to Jack, his eyes a shade darker than usual. “I put the hunters in the back of their own truck. I’m gonna take it off this mountain, and tomorrow, when I make my morning rounds, I reckon I’ll find a couple of illegal hunters out in the state woodlands, if someone else doesn’t stumble across them first. One will have been shot in a hunting accident, and the other will have had a nasty run-in with a bear.” He turned on his heel and strode out of the cabin. “I’ll be back later tonight for my own truck,” he called over his shoulder.
Mandy watched him go. “You don’t think he’s in shock, do you?”
“Not Ronnie. He’s tougher than he looks.”
“That’s certainly saying something.”
Jack nodded. “He uses his training and authority as a ranger to protect the shifters in these mountains. He’s been at it for years.” His expression darkened, his eyes clouding with some unsavory emotion. He crossed the distance between himself and Mandy in a few long strides and helped her to sit up. “If he hadn’t arrived, I’m afraid to think what mighta happened to you,” he said, cupping her cheek. “I didn’t protect you like I promised, and I’m sorry.”
She shook her head gently. “It was my fault. I would’ve been fine if I hadn’t run out into the middle of everything.”
“There was no way you could’ve known who Ronnie was. Hell, I thought he was away
at a rangers’ medical certification course. Looks like he got back just in time.”
It was true – she’d had no way of knowing, and all she’d been able to think about was Jack. It had been impossible for her to stand still while thinking that he was about to die. “You were all I could think about.”
He slipped a hand beneath her chin and tilted her head backward, brushing her lips with his. “I know how you feel. When I thought you’d been killed… It was like I was dying too. It was hell for a few minutes; pure hell. I think I woulda felt like that for the rest of my life if I’d lost you.” His voice was rough, like boots on gravel.
His fingers brushed her bandage. “You reckon you’ve healed enough to go to bed? I’ll leave the curtains open so the moonlight can get in.”
She nodded. Now that the excitement had died down and Ronnie had left, the weight of her exhaustion was crushing. She paused only to drink a glass of water that Jack pressed upon her before letting her eyes drift shut. When he picked her up, she let him carry her, resting her head against his shoulder as sleep claimed her. When they reached the bedroom he stepped carefully around the shattered glass that littered the floor, shook bits of it from the sheets, replaced the quilt he’d bloodied that afternoon and then lay down with her. She drifted off in the shelter of his arms.
