As soon as she parked and killed the engine, she got out and Gray did the same. She didn’t waste any time. Her shirt came off first, then she kicked off her ballet flats and peeled down her pants.
“What are you…?”
She glanced over at a slack-jawed Gray. He stood holding the pill bottles to his chest just like he had in the car. He averted his eyes as if to give her a measure of privacy. He would also learn that her kind wasn’t discreet.
“Like I said, I’m going to turn into a wolf, you’re going to run as fast as you can after me, and we’re going to desperately hope that we make it to the Guardians in time.”
He’d have to see to believe. She envisioned her wolf and flowed into her other form.
His choked gasp was loud to her sensitive ears. “Oh my God, what just happened?”
She swiveled around so he could look her in the eye and see that it was still her—her eyes, with her hair coloring, just on four legs and with a snout. If only she could speak to him telepathically, but that didn’t work with humans.
He wasn’t looking at her. He blinked at the bottles in his hand.
She trotted to him and circled around in hopes that he understood they had to get going.
Darting ahead several feet, she went in the direction they needed to run and stopped. He still hadn’t moved, and he still wasn’t looking at her.
She gave a soft bark. He flinched and cast a dumbfounded stare her way.
Well, at least he was looking at her now. But he didn’t move.
She flowed back to her human form. “You have to run after me or they’ll catch you.”
He jerked his gaze away and shook his head. “You’re naked.”
“Because clothing gets tangled in my legs. My kind isn’t embarrassed about our bodies. I’m shifting back and you must follow me.”
He was shaking his head again and avoiding her gaze.
She stomped over to him, grabbed his collar, and leaned in. “You must follow me. For Cassie.”
He finally looked at her. His eyes filled with resolve. He dipped his head and readjusted his bottles.
She transitioned into her wolf and took off. Every few yards she checked over her shoulder to see how he was doing. Extraordinarily well for a human. Had he spent time in the woods? She remembered Cassie saying something about camping with her dad for a long period of time, which he’d gotten into trouble for, but Cassie didn’t talk about her childhood often.
Gray hopped over felled tree limbs and adjusted his course with each step, all without tripping or falling.
She let her tongue loll out with exhilaration. If Gray could sustain a run like this, they were going to make it. It was only a couple of miles to Guardian property, where the perimeter would be protected. Whoever was monitoring security would see them and let them in, but any pursuers would be stuck outside the warded boundary.
Zigzagging through trees and around limbs, she chose a path based on Gray’s abilities. She bypassed several ideal spots that she could slip through because Gray would require too much time to crawl through.
Minutes ticked by, the occasional howl interspersed with Gray’s measured breathing and grunts of effort. They’d only gone a few hundred yards. Her optimism faltered. What if he couldn’t sustain this pace? This was difficult terrain for a human to hike through, much less sprint.
Armana’s lungs began to burn more with each hill. She continued to glance back. Gray was falling back farther each time. Fatigue was weighing on him.
She was tiring far sooner than she should’ve, and she couldn’t blame it on the stress of getting caught. She’d let herself go in the last two decades that she’d hidden among the humans. A swirl of shame wove through her. The most basic part of her had been taken for granted. She’d always assumed that she could keep her son and daughter safe because she was a shifter, born and raised.
She had. Sort of. Maggie had almost gotten captured and killed because she hadn’t been familiar with her shifter side. Jace had done hard time to protect Maggie, and Armana had cut herself off from him to protect Maggie.
Funny how a flight for her life could send a steady stream of regrets running through her mind like an old-time film.
Armana should’ve been there for Jace. She should’ve introduced Maggie to her wolf long before her life was threatened. She should’ve done a few workouts of her own. Her innate nature needed to be exercised as often as her regular body. Obviously, Gray hadn’t slacked on his exercise.
She gauged his progress. He was dropping behind.
Howls rang in the distance. The sounds were getting closer. She counted at least three different wolves chasing them. How many more were out there that were remaining quiet in order to sneak up on them?
She cleared a ridge and skidded to a stop. The other side was a craggy drop-off with exposed roots, almost like the hill had been cut in half. No matter how agile Gray was, he wasn’t going to be able to clear that without breaking bones. She trotted along the ridgeline as Gray approached. His breathing was heavy, and his forehead was slicked with sweat that dripped onto his T-shirt. The exertion was wearing on him.
“Yeah, I can’t jump that,” he panted.
Barks mingled with the howls. The other shifters were communicating with each other.
Had they planned this? Did they know the terrain well enough to have steered them into the side of a cliff?
The ridge sloped downward but took them farther from the Guardian’s property. Tracing it the other direction would only close the distance between them and their pursuers.
Her head jerked up as a new set of howls echoed from the opposite direction. The howls were nothing different than a regular wolf’s, or a dog’s. Shifters communicated telepathically. Interpreting them would be the same as interpreting a sigh. Context was everything. She assumed these new howls were because they were in on the hunt.
What if they were using code, a special dialect of howl that only they understood?
The very thought left a cold sense of danger lingering inside of her. They weren’t just rogue beasts hell-bent on revenge. If they were determined, manipulative, and cunning, then Armana and Gray stood very little chance of reaching the lodge safely.
What had their plan for the night been? Had they assumed Cassie and Jace had broken sacred rules and told Gray about their kind and they could torture the information out of him? Had they expected Gray to flee to the lodge and they would follow?
Or had she interfered and gotten themselves circled because they’d called more shifters? Without her, they would’ve taken him and questioned him or used him as bait, but it would’ve left an opening for the commander of the Guardians to mount a response and rescue him.
Understanding dawned on Gray. His eyes widened and he swiveled his head to look in each direction.
“Do we head the way we came?”
She shook her shaggy head. No, if her car had been found, they’d have someone monitoring it. They needed help.
Her mind spun through a list of names to call to telepathically. Her son was away on a mission. Cassie wouldn’t be able to hear her thoughts. And she didn’t know many of the other shifters well enough, but Commander Fitzsimmons was always around and always on duty.
We need help at the southern perimeter.
Had Cassie already talked to the commander about their situation? Either way, he was going to find out that rogue shifters were a threat to the lodge and its occupants.
I have a human with me and we need help.
“Where exactly do we need to go?” Gray glanced at her and then scanned around like it was ridiculous to be talking to a dog. Their situation was dire or her hackles would’ve risen. He’d adapted and adjusted, she couldn’t take it personally.
She padded toward him and lifted her nose in the direction of the lodge, which was still over a mile away on the other side of the rocky crag. There was a good reason the southern perimeter of the lodge butted up against this formation of the earth: natural pr
otection. The wards of the perimeter stretched like an invisible wall, rising up high enough that she couldn’t jump over them, and both of them would receive a hell of a shock if they came into contact with the wards.
As the sounds of the wolves drew closer, Armana was struck with a monumental sense of failure. She had failed her son, and it was only out of Jace’s sheer will, intelligence, and strength that he’d managed to pull himself out of the gutter he’d landed in.
“Can you get down that?” Gray pointed over the edge, his keen look calculating a path down.
A male’s firm voice filtered into her mind. We’re already on our way.
Welcome relief brought her back from the edge of despair. The Guardians’ security had picked up on the danger and were en route.
She gave Gray an exaggerated nod to make it obvious. She would skid and tumble, but she could reach the bottom without injuring herself. The major problem was that the rogue shifters might have known about this spot and winged around it while intentionally running her and Gray into it.
She flowed out of her wolf form and planted her hands on her hips.
He cleared his throat and spun away, but not before she caught the flash of heat in his eyes.
He was attracted to her. But not only was this the wrong time, he was also human and Cassie’s dad.
Armana wouldn’t earn Jace’s forgiveness if she so much as mentioned Cassie’s dad was the first male to turn her head in years.
She focused on their plight. “I can get down. You might break a bone, and that would put a serious kink in our plans. Commander Fitzsimmons is on the way with help.”
“Who?” His shoulders were tight, but his breathing had slowed. They’d been standing here too long.
“Jace’s boss.”
“Shifter?”
“Yes. It’s daylight so no vampires can come to our aid.”
He spun. “Vampires?” His gaze raked her body. She didn’t look down, but a hot flush crept up her torso. He caught himself and turned around again.
“Dammit, Gray, this isn’t the time for modesty,” she snapped. “Yes, vampires. They drink blood. We turn into wolves. We’ve been around almost as long as humans.”
He didn’t respond to the vampire comment but cocked his head. “They haven’t howled in a while.”
She stilled. They hadn’t. She sniffed the air. He craned his head around, disbelief in his gaze.
She shot him a glare. “I’m sniffing for them, and I don’t smell them.”
He pointed in the direction the new howls had come from. “Maybe the new ones over there gave them a signal to give up.”
“Rogue shifters don’t give up so easily. If they did, there was a damn good reason.”
“Rogue shifters now?”
She nearly growled, but she stuffed her frustration back and put herself in his place. What if someone told her that no, Santa Claus was the real deal? The tooth fairy? And what was the other tradition Maggie had conned her into doing? That’s right—the Easter Bunny.
Concentrating on seeing as far into the trees as possible, she scented the air again and recoiled. Gray jerked his head around.
“Smoke,” she said. “Fire. They set the woods on fire.”
An explosion made the leaves shake on the trees. She jumped, landing closer to Gray. He automatically clasped an arm around her waist but released her immediately.
“I can smell it now. Where’s it coming from?”
She shook her head. “It’s everywhere. This was a normal year for rain, it’s not that dry. They must’ve used an accelerant.”
“That might’ve been your car that blew.”
“And here I just paid it off.”
He flashed her a smile, rooting her in place.
The short lines that fanned from the corner of his eyes only added to his looks. His brown eyes sparkled, if only for a moment, and lightened to the rich color of polished oak.
She tore her gaze away from him and peeked over the ridge. “They can’t have surrounded us because of the wards. They may have circled us in, but it would only be a half circle.”
“So we go down. You’d better…uh…shift.”
She lifted a brow before she transitioned. Stretching on her haunches, she envisioned the jump. Crouching low, she leaped, aiming for an area with a slope a few degrees shallower than the rest of the side.
As she landed, her weight propelled her forward and she went with it, instinct kicking in as she bounded down. She trotted to a stop at the bottom, where it gently swelled into a larger hill that hopefully wasn’t eroded away.
Gray was already on his way down, his belly pressed to the ground, maintaining three points of contact. He was stretched over the edge, his fingertips slipping from the roots and dirt they dug into. Just when she thought he’d plummet, he let go and used his feet as both a guide and a brake.
He managed to stop after several feet. Haze was filling the air. Whatever they’d used to start the fire had done a stellar job. A blaze raged toward them.
Gray dropped again. He was skidding to the bottom. Flinging his hands out to gain purchase on something, he flailed at air. He hit the bottom and cartwheeled to the side to catch himself. She winced at the thud he made.
Had he hurt himself? If he had, they might not be able to outrun the fire to get to safety. He stayed in a crumpled heap, the only sound coming from him a low moan.
Chapter Four
Gray planted his hands and pushed against the earth. He grunted to his knees. The wolf prodded his side. He wanted to snap, yeah, yeah, I know, but after her amazing show of agility, he felt like a clumsy toddler who’d challenged a flight of stairs and lost.
His ribs hurt, but it was superficial, scrapes from where he’d abraded layers of skin off his abdomen and side.
It was the landing, though. That was when something had popped in his ankle and pain had flared in the familiar way of a sprain.
The wolf—Armana. Could he get used to calling what was clearly an abnormally large wolf by the name of a female with the body of a centerfold?
Armana whined again.
His world shrank as he spotted his scattered pill bottles. Scrambling through the dirt and weeds, he swept the bottles toward him. They’d stayed shut. Thank God.
He wasn’t going to endanger anyone because they had to go to town to refill his meds. He hated being a burden on society and his loved ones. But he’d gotten hurt and Armana probably wasn’t going to get herself to safety without him. If she hadn’t ditched him yet, it wasn’t happening.
He knew almost nothing about her, hadn’t yet reconciled what he’d seen with reality, but his respect for her grew.
Shoving the bottles into the crook of his arm, he wrestled back to his knees. Armana sidled next to him. Was she lending her back for him to prop himself up with?
“I hurt my ankle.”
She nodded. Had she assumed or was it some shifter sixth sense?
His pride hated him, but the stench of burning timber motivated him to dig his fingers into her back. Strength vibrated through her. She could run another ten miles and not tire—and on this terrain.
He rose, refusing to show weakness around a creature possessing so much agility and grace. Blood rushed to his ankle. A steady throb settled into the joint, growing stronger with each flex of his muscles.
He couldn’t hold back his groan as he put pressure on his foot. Oh yeah. That was a doozy of a sprain. He’d done it often enough in his days trekking off the grid that he was confident he hadn’t broken anything.
Taking a step, he wobbled, using her as an aid far more than he cared to. Her heat and the softness of her fur helped keep his panic at a simmer.
She walked next to him, only advancing as he limped forward. Her steps were smooth and not jarring.
Amazing creature. And that had been his first thought after she’d crashed through his back door. And again as she’d tackled that man—shifter—whatever he was.
Had he killed the guy?
A concussion would be the mildest outcome after being brained by a frying pan. Their flight had been so precipitous he hadn’t stopped to think about it.
It bothered him. For all his troubles in the world, he hadn’t physically hurt anyone. He’d put Cassie’s safety at risk, and he’d stymied her personal growth those months they’d spent running through the woods from his imagination. But she’d been relatively unharmed. And it’d been just her and him, and no one else had gotten caught up in his delusions.
How had he known to take Armana’s side anyway? She’d broken into his house, just like the other one. Yet he would’ve followed her anyway and fuck all of it, whether it was a hallucination or not. That was one vision he didn’t want to go away.
Despite their hobbling rate, his throat burned and his lungs tightened. The smoke in the air was getting thicker. His breathing had recovered from the mad flight through the trees and the most strenuous workout he’d had in years. His time in the gym had fortified his mind as well as his body, but the smoke was undoing all of his gains.
The wolf sneezed. He tried to pick up the pace, ignoring the stabs of pain when he put pressure on that ankle. Worse was when his foot would roll over the uneven land. His fist was twisted in her fur and he forced himself to loosen his grip.
She might not be injured, but she had to be more sensitive to the pollution than him. She didn’t show it. They continued. He craned his head around, half expecting to find strange men appearing through the haze. Listening for them did no good; the crackle of the fire was growing louder.
Had the fire department been called? The roar of the blaze was too loud for him to hear sirens.
They were in the middle of nowhere and neither of them had a phone. Armana probably hadn’t thought of making him carry it when she’d…stripped. She had said that the Guardians were on their way. Did that mean they patrolled this land and would know it was in trouble?
He squinted through the din ahead of him. The air wavered, like it was flowing against an invisible obstacle. Armana’s head lifted and she looked from the odd view to him.
“We’re here?” he asked.
She dipped her head.
A Shifter's Second Chance Page 4
