Wild and Fevered

by Long, Heather

  The land sloped downward and they followed the landscape until they arrived at one of the rockier outcroppings. No caves littered this area, though there were plenty of stones to climb and sun against—young Ben loved this region. More often than not when he disappeared from town, they tracked him here. Often enough, the stone garden as they had come to label it was the first destination of any adult searching for him.

  Surprisingly, Ben wasn’t on the rocks. Perhaps he’d actually listened to Jo today and stayed close to town to do his lessons. In addition to being married to Micah, Jo was the schoolteacher, a calling she took very seriously. The woman had become the bedrock for many of the orphans left by the destruction of the first Dorado and though she herself had become Fevered, her ability to communicate with animals wasn’t martial.

  Though, it could have martial possibilities. Mariska considered the idea even as she skidded to a halt. Something tickled her senses and her wolf surged to the forefront. Head raised, she tested the air. A scent that didn’t belong.

  Cody had also stopped and, like her, he studied their surroundings. Visually, she saw no movements and, even concentrating, she barely heard anything other than the wind and the ruffle of the grass, Cody’s heartbeat and the pant of his breath. Wait.

  Spinning, she pinpointed a scraping sound and Cody came to stand shoulder to shoulder with her. He took the lead and snapped at her as though telling her to stay. Her wolf wanted to obey, but Mariska had had enough of that.

  We’re not letting him go alone.

  Her wolf sister hesitated, but Mariska didn’t relent and together they followed their mate as he stalked the sound. Clicking. Claws on stone. A trace of a scent—fur. An animal. It was still early enough in autumn for bears. No, her wolf half-argued. Not a bear.

  Somehow, her wolf sister sorted scents better than she did, so Mariska trusted her judgment. Not Ben either. They knew Ben’s scent, they knew his feline side well. No, what they scented carried a familiarity, but it remained elusive. As though they should know, but they couldn’t name whatever—no, not a what…whomever it was.

  The skittering stopped. Cody angled left and Mariska went right. They’d flank whomever it was and then they’d determine whether it were friend or foe. Trusting her wolf sister’s instincts, she went low to the ground. From the left, she heard the scrabbling of claws and a wolf burst over the top of the rocks to land on the grass in front of her. Smaller than she, and more a ruddy tan, she didn’t recognize the animal. Wolf sister surged to the fore again and Mariska’s lips peeled up from her teeth and she growled her warning.

  The wolf in front of her shuddered and backed up a pace. He—definitely male—didn’t growl in response. If anything he dropped his head and his tail. Defensive, submissive posturing. Why did she know the scent? Obscured under the smell of wolf was…

  Cody appeared at the top of the rock and his throaty growl echoed her warning. The younger wolf, definitely younger, whined and went to his belly.

  …Fevered. He was Fevered. Cody leapt down and landed between she and the intruder. The one danger of the barrier—animals could cross it. Shifters could as well. They’d believed that would have been corrected by the surge created when a healthy, and functioning Kid returned while Jason was present. The Kane brothers were the anchor points for the barrier around the property, though in truth, it was tied to all the Kanes.

  No, she knew this scent. Whoever this boy was he wasn’t a stranger.

  Sweet Mother, he’s one of the children. Many of their Fevered youngsters hadn’t demonstrated whatever latent gifts they’d earned. Some, like Cate, held passive abilities while others like Billy and Tom possessed martial strengths. This one, though, had to be…she tried to identify him by name.

  Anthony. In her mind’s eye she could see the boy, a slender waif-like twelve year old, far too skinny and slight of stature. He appeared far younger than his actual age. And he’s a wolf. Cody issued another warning and the younger wolf rolled onto his back, throat exposed.

  He surrendered, it was enough. Shouldering her mate aside, she made her way over to the younger wolf and nuzzled his throat, when he rolled over to look at her. She bit the top of his muzzle—hard enough to let him know he wasn’t alone and light enough to avoid injury.

  His whimper broke her heart and she crawled a little closer, increasing contact. The youth shuddered, shaking, and Cody came in to bracket his other side. Together, they provided comfort and gradually the terror passed. When he began to convulse, they retreated to give him room to shift.

  The young man lay on the ground, sobbing. It hurt—that abrupt shift when the body pulled itself apart. It hurt badly. Mariska wanted to comfort him, but touch—that would hurt, too. Cody shifted next and with his action, Mariska whirled to shift her focus. The boy on the ground and her mate in mid-shift meant they needed guarding.

  Her wolf sister and she agreed. Nothing would get at them while they were here. A few minutes later, Cody had the boy sitting up and though he was still in tears, he spoke. He’d never shifted before, but had started feeling ill earlier in the day. After a fight with one of the other kids, Buck had told him to walk it off. He hadn’t meant to be so far and he had no idea how he’d gotten there.

  The shift had caught him unawares and his young wolf had responded. He’d gone for ground where he could hide. When they’d come across him, they’d scared the young animal. Tears shimmered in his brown eyes and Mariska approached slowly, then nuzzled his cheek. He reached up to bury his hand in the fur at her neck. Before she realized his intention, he’d wrapped his arms around her and sobbed into her fur. Hugging him with her chin over his shoulder and pressed against his back, she met Cody’s quiet gaze.

  “Keep him here. I’m going for clothes for us and a horse to take him home.” He paused, then added. “Do you want me to bring clothes for you?”

  If she could have smiled, she would have. Involving her, instead of barking orders, was a huge step for her mate. She could more than meet him halfway. She made a half shake of her head. Her shifts were still brutal and long. The boy would be more comfortable with her wolf.

  Wolf sister agreed with that sentiment. The child hadn’t let her go. She could protect him better in this form.

  With care, he put his hand on Anthony’s head. “Stay with Mariska. She will take care of you.”

  Sniffling, the boy raised his head. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t cry.”

  No censure marred Cody’s expression. He ruffled the boy’s hair. “It hurts. You can cry. We accept tears.”

  “Billy said only littles cry.” The words came out a mournful cry and Cody showed his teeth.

  “Littles or adult, it doesn’t matter. Tears are normal. Cry if you need to, Mariska takes care of tears very well.” He squatted beside them and grinned. “I bet if Billy says it again, she’ll even bite him for you.”

  Yes. Yes she would, but biting wasn’t the answer. So she let the boy believe what Cody told him because the chances were he meant it.

  Anthony laughed, a weak, watery laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.

  “Good man,” her mate told him and squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll be back soon. You will stay with Mariska. You will listen to her. Do you understand?” The command in his tone echoed over her, skating across her nerves like a caress and wolf sister wanted to give her mate her throat, but she also knew this wasn’t for them. They were being left to care for the pup.

  “Yes, sir.” The boy’s voice wavered, but his obedience didn’t. He snuggled back to Mariska’s side and she glanced at Cody.

  “Keep him safe,” he said to her as he rose, then murmured. “And you. I meant what I said in that cave, Wife.”

  Wife. The endearment left her glowing and wolf sister laughed internally. He’d always been her mate, but she liked the idea of a husband, too. Her mate shifted, the speed he did so left her mildly envious, and then he was off—racing toward the main house and the barn. Both were closer than Haven.

&nb
sp; Settling in to wait was hard, but she shuttled aside her impatience and concentrated on staying close to Anthony while still keeping watch. Her ears flicked from side to side. Once Cody was out of earshot, the boy gave into another spate of tears, but these didn’t smell like sadness or pain. If anything…

  “I know I shouldn’t be crying,” the child admitted. “But I’ve been feeling weird for weeks and I didn’t know why. I know I was supposed to tell people—you told us that. You tell us that every time you work with us, but I didn’t understand what I was feeling. Ben didn’t get all teary-eyed.” Yes he had, but Anthony couldn’t know that. Not when Kid was the first one to discover Ben’s shifting or that he’d used empathy to curb the child’s fear.

  When they were home, safe and settled, she’d have a long talk with Anthony. The months before her first change had been unpleasant, too. Days where she felt like she itched inside her own skin, unable to put a label on the overload of sensory input or the pushing—the pushing that had been her wolf.

  Latching onto that thought, Mariska wanted to swear. Her wolf had been as lost in those months as she had been. Both uncertain of what happened to them. The brutality of the shifts—her blackouts, and the wolf’s blatant need for Cody. Yes. Wolf sister seemed to be tracking her thoughts and they both exulted.

  They’d been learning, but they hadn’t understood they were actually exploring their dual nature much less what they needed to learn. They had been this little boy, lost, and confused and with no way to label any of their experiences. The only major difference was Mariska was an adult and her wolf, well, wolf sister still had some maturing to do, but she was learning.

  Together. They were maturing together.

  We can do this. She told her other half and the animal agreed. Caught up in their satisfaction, they nearly missed the sound of brush breaking. Jerking her head up from Anthony’s shoulder, she turned her attention to the wooded glade beyond the rock tables. The wind shifted.

  Bear.

  Anthony was bare ass naked and without any cover and a bear approached. Tugging free of the boy, she nipped him to get his attention. He roused and swung his head to look where she stared, just in time to see the medium sized bear exit the glade.

  Fear poured off Anthony, stinking the air around them. Mariska slid to stand between him and the bear. Sparing him a look, she locked eyes with him and then jerked her chin toward the rocks. He was small, but if he climbed, there were high spots he could reach.

  His eyes dilated and for a moment she worried he wouldn’t listen, but he obeyed her and raced toward the stone tables. Satisfied he had a head start, she whirled to face the bear.

  How the hell was she supposed to fight the creature? Should she fight it? Maybe she could lead it away? Or, better, maybe it would meander on its own.

  The bear rose up on its hind legs and let out a roar.

  Dammit. She didn’t know that much about bears, but she didn’t think that could be good. If she had a gun, she’d fire it in the air hoping to scare it off, but all she had were her teeth and her claws…

  And me, Wolf Sister whispered into her mind. Yes. Her wolf half understood the rules better than she did. Mariska slipped back and let the wolf take over.

  Remember the pup. She didn’t want blood lust to overtake them and leave Anthony exposed.

  We will protect him. Throwing her head back, she let loose with a howl that would carry to their mate, a trumpet of challenge and a call to battle. If Cody were close enough, he could come back. He could help.

  Until then, she dropped her head and glared at the bear—lips peeling back across her teeth and she growled her warning. They would not allow the bear anywhere near the cub. He was theirs to protect.

  Thankfully, she was ready when the bear charged.

  She moved, relying on her speed and agility to surpass the bear’s. No chance of engaging the animal one-on-one. Angling away from the rocks and Anthony, she deftly avoided the bear’s strike. Whirling, she raced, her body low to the ground, and the bear followed. Grateful the creature was focused on her, she concentrated on staying out of striking range, increasing the distance between the bear and the boy while also heading toward the same direction Cody had vanished.

  When the bear charged again, she cut a hard right away from him and angled south. The animal couldn’t turn as swiftly as she and, when she completed her arc, she dashed back the way she came while the bear tried to halt its forward momentum.

  Twice more, she repeated the maneuver, each time the bear recovered and came after her, roaring. Cutting away, she doubled back almost immediately and scored a hit across the bear’s flank narrowly missing a return swipe to her side.

  Whatever had set the bear off, it was not giving up its fight. She looked for signs of nursing, but scented only the bear—no cubs, no fresh kills—no damn reason for the bear to be cross with her. So she fought to stay alive and keep the bear away from the cub.

  She had no other options.

  Three more passes and she hoped the bear had finally grown winded. They’d traveled nearly a fair distance away from the boy and into open fields. Winded and tiring, she refused to give into the exhaustion. She’d drop dead from it first. Like an answer to her prayer, a streak of sandy-colored fur raced past her and the bear roared in pain. Whirling, she cut away from the bear and then hit it from the side as it turn its attention on Cody.

  He raced away from the bear, pulling it to chase and she attacked its flank until it turn on her. Again and again, she and her mate traded positions, wearing the bear down and then Cody caught the beast’s undersides and the hot, coppery scent of blood sprayed through the air. Mariska hamstrung its back leg and Cody took a shoulder.

  Narrowly avoiding strikes of its claws became harder in close quarters, but they continued to herd the bear and it wouldn’t run, relentlessly turning on them. Bleeding from two wounds and aware that Cody did the same, she continued to attack and when her mate distracted the bear, she launched at its throat.

  One long, jagged tear and the bear collapsed.

  Dead.

  Panting, soaked in sticky blood and hurting, she threw her head back and howled. Cody tested the bear and then joined her in her howl. They’d succeeded.

  Moments later—or maybe it was minutes—she was too tired to care, horses pounded up. Kanes.

  Jason.

  Kid.

  Micah.

  Some distant part of her mind ticked off the scents. Cody’s hands were on her shoulders and steadying her. Another had wrapped something around her middle.

  “Anthony’s at the rocks. I’m betting she lured the bear off. Go get him. I’ve got her.”

  Kid was gone, but Jason stayed and he stripped off his jacket. “What do you need?”

  “I need her to shift.” Cody’s fingers tightened in her fur. “And I need Noah if I can’t get her to, where is he?”

  Shift? She was so tired. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs, but if he wanted her to shift—she summoned the strength to do it and her body wrenched itself inside out. Several agonizing moments later, she lay in the dirt and wanted to roll into the fetal position.

  Too breathless to speak, she fought the waves of pain and dizziness.

  “Shift again,” Cody was saying. “Shift again. I know it hurts. It’s horrible. Shift again.”

  “Make up your mind,” she managed to say and didn’t care that her voice sounded more animal than human. Calling up her wolf sister, she changed once more and it hurt more this time than the first, if that were possible.

  Three more times Cody made her shift and the last time, she refused. Too tired, she set her chin on her paws and closed her eyes. She wanted to sleep. They beat the damn bear, Anthony was safe, and her mate was whole. The rest could wait for later.

  Chapter 8

  Cody

  Anthony slept sprawled across the foot of the bed while Ben slept curled up next to her, both boys in their animal forms, wolf and cougar respectively. Neither had lef
t Mariska’s side since Cody carried her home. The bear had damn near eviscerated his beautiful, black wolf mate. He’d scented illness on the beast, something had made it sick, and sickness had turned to rage.

  Mariska had been brilliant, courageous, and so swift. But he’d scented her blood as soon as he’d come into range and he didn’t think she was even aware of her injuries. When he attacked the bear and tried to draw it off, she’d gone for the bear, too. Perfectly synchronized, they’d split their attack. One ran, the other struck and when she’d torn out the bear’s throat. He’d been relieved that it was over.

  But her injuries. Cody closed his eyes and exhaled a harsh breath. She’d been covered in blood and so much more of it had been hers than the bear’s. She’d shifted though, repeatedly, as he’d demanded of her. Each time, the gaping wounds had shrunk a little more. The worst of her injuries closed with her last shift, but she’d passed out. Refusing to allow anyone else to touch her, he’d carried her home.

  Noah came to check on her and the boy frequently. A full day passed with Mariska sleeping and then she’d shifted while she slept, becoming human once more, and Noah had gone to work. His gift worked so much better on people than animals.

  The young wolf stirred when Cody scrubbed a hand over his face, wiping away his tears. He could not lose his mate. He refused to lose her. The pain had damn near killed him the first time and Scarlett hadn’t been his true mate.

  If he lost Mariska, they might as well shoot him because he would follow her. Anthony made a low whining noise and the wolf edged up closer. The animal wanted to comfort and to be comforted. Sniffing, he reached out a hand to scruff the pup and pulled him up to settle next to him. Stroking the pup’s back, he kept his gaze on Mariska. “She will be fine,” he said to Anthony. “She knows better than to defy me. If she doesn’t like it, she can wake up and argue with me.”

  The wolf made a mournful sound and set his head on Cody’s leg. His gaze rested on Mariska as well. The kid was still struggling with his wolf, but like Mariska’s first weeks, he seemed more comfortable as the animal than human. Cody had done the same and so had Ben. Maybe there was a kernel of information here, he’d think more about it later.