by Abigail Owen
Chapter Eight
Consciousness returned in slow stages. At first warmth and peace surrounded her in a cocoon. After a while, she recognized she was lying in a bed, blankets pulled up around her, and a scent surrounding her that wasn’t home, but was homey just the same. Her head felt fuzzy and her dry mouth tasted sour, but that had happened before—the few other times she’d taken a leap.
A leap…Ohmygod.
With a gasp, her eyes flew open. She moved to sit up, but the blankets hampered her arms. She started to struggle.
“It’s okay. You’re safe.”
She calmed the moment she recognized Shane’s gravelly voice. He leaned forward out of the darkness and into the soft light cast by a lamp at her bedside. She glanced away only to realize they were in a log cabin. Literally. The walls were made of entire logs stacked up and cemented with mortar in between.
Explained the woodsy smell. She was lying in an old-fashioned brass bed covered by a faded patchwork quilt. Worlds apart from her opulent Florida home, but she liked it. The cougar side of her did too, she could tell by the contentment ebbing through her in peaceful waves.
“Where are we?” she mumbled.
“A place I know, in the middle of no-man’s-land Canada.”
She blinked, trying to clear her vision and her mind. “How long?”
“You’ve been out about fifteen hours. It’s almost three a.m.”
Wow. That was the longest one of her leaps had ever knocked her out. She didn’t know where they were, but the furthest a leap had ever taken her was about two miles. She bet money she’d gone a helluva lot further away this time based on his description.
“I see,” she finally murmured.
“I’m glad you do. Cause I sure as hell don’t.”
There was the sarcastic ass she knew and…well, she knew. “Right. I guess an explanation is in order.”
“You think?”
She sighed. “Don’t be a jerk, Callahan.”
Now she wasn’t in a panic she was able to extricate her arms from the blanket. She pushed herself up and brushed the tangled mass of her hair back from her face. She stared at Shane’s form but couldn’t make out his features in the dim light. “Is there another lamp in here?”
“No.”
“Do you mind coming a little closer?”
“Why?”
“Call me crazy, but when having a conversation, being able to see the other person’s reactions and expressions is helpful.”
He didn’t respond for a long moment. Then, with a sudden move, the agility and leashed strength of his cougar form evident in the prowling nature of his gait, he stood and walked closer. “Move over,” he ordered.
She regarded him with wide eyes. “Can’t you scoot the chair closer?” she wondered.
“I was sitting on a window ledge.” He pointed.
“Oh.” That couldn’t have been comfortable. How long had he been sitting there?
She didn’t realize she’d voiced her thoughts aloud until he said, “Since we arrived. And yes, it was. So if you don’t mind…” He waved her over.
Tieryn slid over a bit, and Shane planted himself on the edge of the bed beside her.
“Better?” His tone implied her request to see his face was a silly one. She found it interesting that he’d obliged her anyway but kept the thought to herself.
She ignored the comment. Ignoring his close proximity was more difficult. The heat of his body warmed her through the layers of blankets and clothing. She could smell his now familiar scent—a subtle combination of soap and a spicy aftershave and him. He wasn’t even touching her, yet she felt surrounded.
“Well?” he prompted when she didn’t speak.
She cleared her throat. “Sorry. I’m still half-asleep.” And she did feel groggy, her head fuzzy and her brain not firing on all cylinders.
His expression suddenly softened to a small smile, and she stared, transfixed. She couldn’t remember him smiling since she’d met him. This one was almost…tender. Tieryn blinked. That couldn’t be right. She cleared her throat again. “As you’ve probably guessed, I have two gifts.”
A lifted eyebrow replaced the smile. “No kidding.”
She swallowed the weird urge chuckle at his dry tone. Reaction must be setting in.
“I didn’t think it possible for a Kuharte to have two gifts. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know how it’s possible. I just know what happens.”
“What does your dad say?”
Tieryn looked down at her hands. She absently pleated the quilt over her lap, the old material soft under her fingertips. “I’ve never told him,” she admitted. “I’ve never told anyone.”
“Why?”
Her lips twisted into a smile. How like Shane to get straight to the point with a single word. “I’m…unique enough as it is. Both Kuharte and Alpha’s daughter. And honestly, I was afraid of what the Alphas would do to me if they found out I had two gifts. I’m a freak.”
“You’re not a freak.”
Surprised at his insistence, she glanced up to find his gaze trained upon her, and her heartbeat sped up in response. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, and his gaze followed. “Well. Anyway. Obviously, I’m a Healer. My second gift…I’m not sure exactly what to call it. I say I’m a Survivor.”
“What can you do?”
She shook her head. “I have no control over it, and it’s only happened a couple of times my entire life. I get a tingly feeling and a distinct impression danger is coming—dangerous to me personally. Then, wham, I’m transported somewhere. If I think about a safe place, I end up there, or close.”
“And you’re sure it’s in reaction to danger?”
She nodded. “The first time I was five years old. My grandmother and I were in a car wreck. Bad one. She died. They found me at the side of the road, uninjured. They assumed I’d somehow been flung from the car on impact but couldn’t figure out how, since none of the windows had been down and there wasn’t a space big enough for me to have fit through.” Another shrug. She didn’t like to talk about it. She’d loved her Nana. “I couldn’t explain what happened, because I was so young at the time. I woke up outside the car when the paramedics got there.”
Shane stared at her for a long, hard moment. “You said it’s happened a couple of times? And no one’s ever seen you disappear?”
She scrunched her nose. “Not until today…errrr…yesterday. Any witnesses to previous times all died.”
For a long time, she’d believed she was a jinx or maybe caused the accidents, which had taken the lives of not only her grandmother but also a close friend in school and her father’s second-in-command before Gage assumed that role. But during the last one, she had realized some sort of survival gift or instinct had kicked in to save her. The tingle was always the signal.
“So. A Survivor, huh?” Shane mused now.
She inclined her head.
“How’d you know you could take me with you?”
“I didn’t. Not for sure.”
“Why ask me to think of somewhere safe? Why my somewhere safe instead of yours?”
“The furthest I’ve transported was a few miles away. That didn’t seem safe enough. We kept running into attackers. I don’t know this area like you do, so your somewhere safe seemed a better bet. I had no idea if it would work.”
“It definitely did, sweetheart. You sent us three-thousand miles away.”
“Three—?” Tieryn squeaked.
Seeing shock had stolen her tongue, Shane nodded. “To the other side of Canada near the Alaskan boarder. Yukon territory.”
“Where exactly?” she croaked.
“A cabin owned by Zac’s people.”
She blinked and looked around her again to take in the oversized nature of everything—higher doorways and ceilings, larger bed, all for polar-bear shifters.
“I’m sorry if the accommodations don’t suit your cultured tastes.”
Tieryn shrugged. “I like it.” She caught his confused frown. Poor guy had probably expected her to sneer or turn up her nose and was thrown off when she didn’t. After a long moment, she flopped back on her pillows. “So how do we get out of here?”
Shane’s lips settled in a grim line. “We don’t.”
Tieryn’s practical side took over, and it was her turn to frown. “What do you mean, we don’t?”
“I mean this cabin is used when someone is helicoptered in and brings a satellite phone with them. We don’t have a way to call for help.”
“And no one knows I can leap, let alone where,” she murmured.
“Exactly.”
Chapter Nine
Tieryn chewed on the inside of her cheek as she thought. “So we have to get ourselves out?”
He grimaced. “Harder than it sounds.”
“Tell me.”
Was that approval in his eyes? Hard to tell as he hid the emotion behind a mask of scruff and attitude. “We’re in a valley surrounded by peaks on all sides.”
Sounded ominous. “Hence having to helicopter in.”
He inclined his head. “This is where Zac’s Timik hid me after Andie reported my death to Walter Carstairs, which is why I knew about it at all. Other than the underground bunkers, where we already were, this is the safest place I know.”
Tieryn digested that with a slow nod. Curiosity urged her to ask him more about that time in his life, but they needed to focus on the immediate problem. “Okay, difficult to get out then.”
“Impossible.”
She didn’t take his one-word correction as belligerence or his usual stoic sarcasm. He really meant impossible. “Why?”
“It’s the end of March, and here that means the snow isn’t gone, though it’s getting warmer. We can still get storms—which we are at the moment.”
“You’re saying we’re snowed in?”
“Yes.”
The implications were many and varied. She started with the most obvious. “Any idea how long?”
He shook his head. “Last time I was here, the last snow came about now. Hopefully, that’s typical and we’re not looking at months.”
“Food?”
He seemed to understand the question, because he gave her an approving nod. “The cabin is well stocked with canned and dried goods for emergencies like this. With the snow, we have plenty of water for cooking and drinking. There’s also a river down the hill and into the woods. I can also always shift and hunt.”
“Right,” she muttered. “I guess I can help with that.” The idea didn’t appeal. She was crap at doing anything useful in her cougar form thanks to little time spent that way.
“I’ve seen your version of stealth. I’ll take care of the hunting.”
He sounded almost cheerful at the prospect. Ass. She wasn’t completely helpless. “Fine,” she limited herself to the single comment. “What about heat? It’s quite warm in here.”
“We have a small solar set up, and there’s a generator when that’s not enough for both electricity and heat. Wood for fires as well, though I might have to chop more.”
“Running water?”
“There’s a holding tank system set up. A compost and septic system to deal with waste and most trash.”
“All the comforts of home,” she murmured, more to herself.
“Hey. You’re not going to go all princess on me and expect me to do all the work around here, are you?”
She gave him a disgusted glare. “Of course not.”
“Good.”
She could tell by his tone that he wasn’t entirely convinced. She’d show him. “You’re not going to go all Neanderthal and expect me barefoot in the kitchen, are you?” she volleyed.
“Now there’s an idea that has merit.”
Was that another smile?
“We can talk about our logistical issues more in the morning,” he continued before she could even growl her irritation. “For now, our biggest problem is that you’re sleeping in the only bed.”
It took Tieryn’s brain a second to catch up. “The only—” She frowned. “Oh,” she breathed, as the implications sank in.
“Yeah,” he acknowledged. “And I don’t fancy squishing myself onto the couch in the living room.”
“You want to share the bed?”
“Unless you want the couch,” he offered. His reasonable tone and innocent expression told her that’s what he was angling for. Two could play the belligerence game.
She shook her head and offered a carefree smile. “No thanks.”
“So we share?”
“I guess so.”
He stood. “The bed is made for polar bears, sweetheart. There’s plenty of space.”
“I already agreed,” she pointed out.
She gave Shane a sideways look, reluctantly impressed that he was honorable enough to make the situation clear, rather than making an assumption. She watched in silence as he undid his large belt buckle before he stripped off his boots, jeans, and t-shirt. She swallowed at the sight of his lean muscled back, narrow hips, and powerful legs. She tried thinking of all the snow and ice they were surrounded by to help bank the heat flaming up in the pit of her stomach at his almost naked body. When that didn’t work, she tried to focus on cold, hard facts, regarding him in a clinical light. She’d bet in his cat form he was an intimidating combination of powerful and wiry, which would make him a formidable fighter. The loss of his ear suggested he’d do whatever he had to in a fight.
He turned out the lamp. The wood planking of the floor creaked with each step as he padded around to the other side of the bed. The mattress dipped with his weight, and she rolled to the middle. Quickly she scooted back to the edge and turned away. They lay in the dark and quiet for a while, but Tieryn couldn’t sleep. Not after fifteen hours of being out cold. Besides which, her mind was spinning and her body was way too conscious of his broad form at her back.
“What’s on your mind?”
The sudden sound of his voice breaking the silence made her jump. How had he known? She’d been as still as a possum playing dead. Tieryn rolled over to face him, not that she could see anything in the pitch black, but she could tell he faced her even so.
“My dad,” she said on a sigh.
“He wasn’t involved.”
She wanted to believe him, but the timing had been too suspicious. She flipped over to turn on the lamp then studied his face. “He didn’t want me to go. What if—”
“Stop.” He reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, then pulled his hand back with a frown. “He wasn’t involved. Believe me.”
“How do you know?”
“I saw his face when it all went down. He was as shocked as the rest of us.”
She could see he was convinced, and, for some unknown reason, she trusted his judgment. She blew out a long breath. “Okay.”
He opened his mouth as if to speak and then closed it again.
“What?”
“You haven’t mentioned your fiancé.”
“Gage?” She hadn’t really thought about Gage, honestly, although he’d been with her father at the bunker. “He would side with my father.”
“Sounds like a stand-up guy,” he observed.
She decided to ignore the sarcastic tone. “He is.”
“So it’s true love?”
She was tempted to lie, to claim a grand passion, except that didn’t feel right. “I never said that.”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment, and she couldn’t read his expression. “So if it’s not love, what’s the point?” he asked.
She shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve known him my whole life. Gage is a good man with a solid future. He’s set to take over as Alpha from my dad.”
“Sounds…well thought out.”
“You’re going to preach to me about marrying for love. What do you know about it?”
“I married for love.” He scowled as soon as the words were out, like he
regretted saying them.
Shock didn’t begin to cover her reaction. “You’re married?” Why did that fact cause a rock to sink in her stomach?
He rolled to his back and dropped his arm over his eyes. “Not any more. She was killed.”
She wasn’t sure how to respond, but his stark pain was palpable. On impulse, Tieryn scooted across to place her lips against his cheek in a gesture meant to offer comfort.
“I’m sorry,” she started to murmur but trailed off as he pulled his hand out from hers and speared her with an intense look that sucked all the oxygen out of the room. At least, that’s how it felt to her.
His heartbeat thumped under her palm, which still lay on his chest. The thudding under her hand matched her own. She could still feel the scratch of his stubble and the warmth of his skin against her lips. This close, she was surrounded by his scent—she needed to find out what soap he used. She resisted the strangest urge to bury her face in the crook of his neck and inhale. Or lick. She wondered how his skin would taste.
For a long, heavy moment, she thought…hoped…he would close the distance between their lips. Suddenly, he blinked, and the fire in his blue eyes banked, replaced by the distant man she’d been living with the last week or so. He lifted her off his chest, dumped her on her side of the bed, then turned his back to her.
“Turn off the light. Get some sleep,” he ordered.
She lay there, leaning on one arm and staring at his back as she gathered her wits. What on earth was wrong with her? She’d never allowed lust to impair her judgment—and that’s exactly what had addled her brain. Lust, pure and simple. She was an engaged woman for heaven’s sake. Her heart might not be taken, but her loyalty was. She’d given Gage her word. She planned to build a life with him.
She turned her back to him and flipped off the light. Determination filled her. No more crazy impulses.
Chapter Ten
“Are you there?” Zula called out to her empty bedroom. She sank into the deep leather couch off to the side of the bed and waited. The African deity was a powerful sorceress. One whom Zula had no intention of offending with rude behavior or childish impatience. She would call once and wait.
This time she didn’t have long.
