Dedication
To Sasha, for sending this book back to me for revisions. Thank you for helping me make every book the best it can be!
Love, your author.
Chapter One
The pup had disappeared. Again. Honest to God, thought Zach, these moon-run outings were going to be the death of him.
Storm was too young to be out and about on his own, and Zach was too big and, well, too much of a horse to scrabble under the bushes. He had to go around, and while he had a pretty good idea of where Storm was headed—the pup being fond of the clearing in the middle of the small woods—Zach didn’t like not knowing exactly where Storm was at all times.
There were coyotes out here, and a werewolf pup should be running with older wolves, not on his own. Or should be running with his horse guardian—if only the pup’s mind didn’t forget that important fact the moment the moon called to him.
The damn thing shone overhead, lighting Zach’s way. The wet snow was deep tonight. Not a problem for Zach’s long legs, but a struggle for a small body. Storm would be clumsy and slow in the snow, oversized paws almost flapping. A sitting duck if anything were to attack the child.
Zach knew how it would go. Soon Storm would stop and look around and wonder where Zach was, wonder why a large horse hadn’t been able to follow him under brush. Then he’d be sorry he’d run off, sad he’d disobeyed. He’d been distracted by the smell of rabbit or something, but he’d end up by himself, shivering or yipping forlornly at the moon.
Trying to make Storm’s time alone as short as possible, Zach moved faster. Five more minutes max, he hoped. There had to be a better way to run under the moon than this. The hell of it was, though, he couldn’t quite figure it out.
As he cornered the last bend of the path, the entrance to the clearing came within view—and a scent brought him up short. Despite his urgent desire to find Storm, Zach plowed to a stop and breathed in hard to identify the smell of danger—of wolf. Wolf, adult and male. All Zach’s senses went on high alert. He wasn’t able to discern whether the scent meant wolf or werewolf, and he didn’t care. He didn’t trust either creature. He didn’t trust wolves, period.
He took off again, muscles bunching under him as he powered forward. It wasn’t far, and he just prayed Storm was in his usual place. Zach rounded the last copse and picked up further speed. Before him stood the low-lying bushes. He knew what lay beyond so he launched himself up and over, his hooves skimming the top layer of brush before he landed within the small meadow.
He kept moving, determined to reach his charge. There in the middle of the clearing stood Storm, ears back, body trembling, timid and afraid. As he should be. For out of the bush, on Zach’s side of the clearing, had emerged a large gray wolf like the nightmare he was, prowling forward. It wasn’t the first time Storm had been stalked. Even if previously the werewolf had been in human form. And it wasn’t the first time Zach had faced down a wolf, he knew that much.
A ripple of fear seemed to flow through the pup, but then he turned away from the danger and looked to Zach, no doubt having heard his hoofbeats. Storm’s entire body radiated relief, and he stood taller before he began his run towards Zach, who in turn was galloping full speed towards him.
Galvanized by the pup’s fleeing, the gray wolf started his chase in earnest, aiming to intercept Storm before he reached Zach. The wolf could move, but he wasn’t going to make it, not if Zach had any say about it.
He screamed his horse’s scream—loud, angry, aggressive—a simultaneously deep and high-pitched noise. It made other creatures cringe. The wolf paused while Storm barreled forward, giving the wolf wide berth.
Storm didn’t hesitate, he trusted Zach to protect him, and twisted through Zach’s legs and beyond. Once Storm was on the other side, Zach focused on the predator who was not backing away, not at all. The fool intended to take Zach out. Instead of slowing, the gray wolf sped up and launched itself at him, aiming for Zach’s throat. Zach rose on his hind legs easily, and the wolf met hooves, not flesh. Zach attempted to bring it down, trample it to death, but at the last moment the wolf twisted in midair and escaped. It rolled out of range, regained its feet, shook wet snow off its body and snarled, showing teeth.
As if this could intimidate him. Zach charged, screaming his rage. No one touched what was his to protect; he was making that clear. The wolf scrambled to retreat, more aware now of the danger Zach posed and staying out of Zach’s reach. It thought it was clever, outsmarting a dumb horse by outmaneuvering him—reaching Storm by going wide. However, Zach had not lost sight of his charge.
The pup aimed for his legs again. As the gray wolf closed in, Zach turned from Storm, and the wolf believed it was about to achieve its goal. It forgot about just how hard a horse can kick.
Storm ran, he was a smart pup, and took himself out of the way. The wolf moved in; Zach’s hind leg snapped out. In one well-aimed, potent blow, his hoof connected full-on with the wolf’s head.
The noise resounded in the field, sharp and lethal—and skull-breaking. The wolf’s neck whipped to the side at a too-acute angle. Its body flew through the air to land on the snow and lie in sudden stillness. For a while Zach could do nothing but stare at the gray fur in the snow and make sure the wolf didn’t rise again, make sure that was blood seeping out from the wolf’s head and soaking the snow red.
Storm whimpered, and Zach’s attention was wrenched back to the pup who crouched in the snow, ears back, clearly upset. But the child was unharmed. Zach’s heart was ready to burst out of his chest it was beating so hard. His sides worked strenuously, like bellows, not quite able to contain his emotions. He’d had the fright of his life. As he leaned down to inspect and nuzzle a whimpering, supplicating Storm, he couldn’t detect any physical damage done to the pup.
If that fucking wolf had got hold of Storm, he might have ripped the pup in half in one go. But Storm squirmed beneath him, fully alive, licking Zach’s muzzle feverishly. With good reason. Storm knew he had gone against Zach’s full-moon rules. He had put himself in danger.
With that thought, Zach raised his head to gaze again at the unmoving body that lay ten feet from them, to check one last time it hadn’t risen from the dead. Because shifters healed from extraordinary wounds, even if that kind of brain damage was tough to recover from.
It wasn’t the first time Zach had killed a wolf, and it might not be the last. His previous satisfaction at slaying these creatures was muted by the bundle of life at his feet.
Storm was a werewolf, a pup, and for all intents and purposes, Zach was his guardian, his father figure. He had to hope there was more to adult werewolf life than violence and evil, predatory behavior. Storm’s sunny personality, which contradicted his name, gave Zach real hope that was the case.
His charge whined, and Zach looked down to see that small body slump to the ground, exhausted after his near-death experience. He nudged the pup, nickered once and gave a brief stamp. His cue. He wanted the boy to shift back to human with what energy he had left. It was the only way to carry him home.
This time Storm obeyed him. While Zach watched over him and tried to ignore the stench of dead wolf, Storm lay still and silent, focused on the transformation to come. Yes, the boy had to experience the pain of shifting. It wasn’t an easy process, though the flexibility of the young helped. Eventually Storm blurred before Zach’s eyes, his skin and bone moving and melding in slow motion until—transformed—a young, pale child lay on the snow on his stomach, as if sleeping. Only the slight movement in his small chest indicated he was alive.
Zach breathed warm air on him until Storm woke from his stupor and sat up to knuckle his eyes. When Zach prodded him, Storm grabbed hold
of his mane to pull up to standing.
“I want to go home.” The thin voice trembled. Much had happened in one short night.
Zach blew out in agreement. The small body weighed too little to bother Zach as he clambered up and over his shoulder, using his long mane to climb. Once Storm was seated and had draped his body over Zach’s neck for warmth, Zach took up a slow canter and headed towards the very outer suburbs.
It took about twenty minutes to make it home, because Zach feared Storm might fall asleep on his back and tumble off. It had happened twice before. But the exhausted boy had enough adrenaline coursing through him from tonight’s encounter and enough heat from the recent shift that he stayed alert till they arrived at the backyard of their house.
At that Storm slid to the ground, threw up his short arms in a hug around Zach’s neck—attempted hug since those arms didn’t reach very far—then curled up in a porch chair with a sleeping bag to doze as he awaited Zach’s own shift. The boy didn’t like to go inside without Zach. Thank God it was a low of minus five degrees tonight instead of minus twenty-five. Warm for January.
Zach went to the shadow of the trees, even if his neighbors weren’t close enough to see anything, and he pulled his horse within.
That’s how he perceived it. He’d once discussed the process of shifting with Storm, who found such a description baffling. The boy saw a shift as throwing himself into the other form.
It didn’t matter how he thought of it, as long as he succeeded. Tonight, Zach’s horse ceded easily. It hadn’t always been that way; there’d been years his horse battled for supremacy. But ever since Storm had marched into Zach’s life and grabbed such a tight hold on his heart, much had changed. Both his forms were attached to the pup, and his horse wanted his human to go look after Storm, take him inside out of the cold and put him to bed.
Zach’s horse retreated inwards, the ground embraced him, and he woke to damp snow and an ache in his leg where he’d kicked out so hard. So lethally.
Later he’d think on the fact he’d taken a life. Now? He pushed himself up off the cold ground and stalked over to the chair to lift Storm into his arms. While he would have liked to just tuck the boy into bed, food was an absolute necessity. He forced the boy to down some calories in the form of his favorite cereal—the best bet at this hour. Then, pajamas donned and safe within his warm blankets, Storm fell into a deep, restful sleep.
Zach made himself to do the same thing, ingest calories, though he barely tasted them. He still wasn’t ready to think about what had transpired this night and what it meant for the future and Storm’s safety. First he’d sleep, then he’d face the questions he had to ask himself tomorrow—or next week.
He was a horse. He didn’t always have to think. Sometimes he just was.
Chapter Two
When the phone rang, Sally ignored it. After running under the moon last night, she was almost late for work this morning. As good an excuse as any to let it go to voicemail. Besides, the phone only ever rang for her roommate.
As she pulled a sweater over her head, she must have heard wrong because Jancis called out, “Sally. For you.”
She yanked on her cords and marched down the hall, question on her face.
“It’s my dad,” explained Jancis.
Since Angus usually passed messages to her through his daughter, that made Sally even more puzzled as she took the phone.
“Hello?” she asked, feeling cautious.
“You don’t have to sound like the axe is about to fall.” Angus kept his tone dry.
She liked Angus, she really did, but God he got her back up. All. The. Time.
“I have to head out to work soon,” she said, brisk.
“Yeah. Cancel that. Harrison will understand. I need you to come over, with Jancis, ASAP.”
If a back could rise even more, hers would have. “You’re talking about my job. Harrison may understand, but he is also depending on me.” Just because Harrison wasn’t aggressive about his needs didn’t mean his job as principal wasn’t difficult and necessary.
Angus paused. She could practically see the expression on his face, patience tempered by…impatience. Sure, Sally was difficult at times, but she didn’t happen to like blowing off her job.
He sighed. “I realize that. Something important has come up. I’d appreciate you making your way over as soon as possible.”
He wasn’t going to order her, he never would despite the fact he was alpha. Jancis stood nearby, munching on her toast, and she rolled her eyes. Swallowing her mouthful, she took the phone out of Sally’s hand.
“Dad, let me handle this.” She hung up, propped a hand on her hip and turned her dark gaze on Sally. “You two wolves drive me crazy. I’m dragging you over to Dad’s. You know full well he values any and all work done at the high school. He thinks Harrison is a rock star. He wouldn’t be asking you to come to his place without good reason.”
Sally looked at Jancis. No one would know, here and now, that Sally was the wolf, not Jancis. Because of that, Sally had no problem with Jancis’s manner. A human couldn’t have physically dragged a wolf over. Yet she was fond of Jancis and respected her judgment, so Sally would go.
“I’ll call the school.” Yes, she sounded disgruntled, but acquiescence was enough. She didn’t have to be jolly about it. Besides, Jancis wasn’t one to be sensitive about such things.
They got their stuff together, bundled up and walked out into the January morning. Sun strong, sky blue, snow white. Today’s end-of-semester classes would just have to get by without her.
At Angus’s, they removed coats and boots and went through the usual greetings—Jancis’s more enthusiastic than her own—before they were ushered into the dining room, often the meeting room of the pack.
Sally had sat around this table before. Hard to have avoided it since she’d lived here for a few weeks when she first arrived in Wolf Town. It had been a rough beginning for reasons she didn’t like to think about, and being back at Angus’s always made her uncomfortable. Her skin felt prickly, and she alternately wanted to crawl under the table and pick a fight with the next person who talked to her.
“Hi, Sally.” Mala’s smile was real but weary. “Thanks for coming over.”
She nodded. Sweet girl, Mala. Too bad Sally couldn’t stand the fact Mala had been inside her head—while dreaming of all things—and had observed her being humiliated in the past. It wasn’t exactly anyone’s fault though, and given that Mala had saved her life, Sally was an utter bitch to nurse her resentment. She forced herself to smile back.
“How are you doing?”
Mala paused. “Tired. I dreamed last night.”
Then why am I here? Sally didn’t want to know about Mala’s dreams, how she was a dream wraith who continued to visit wolves by walking through nightmares and into their bodies. Nor could Sally imagine that whatever Mala had seen would relate to her. She didn’t tend to be granted access to the inner sanctum of power and decision-making in Wolf Town, and didn’t want to be there. Being the alpha’s daughter’s roommate was more than close enough.
“We have a favor to ask you.” Mala looked like she had a headache. Her eyes were unfocused, lids drooping, and tension lines bracketed her mouth.
“Okay,” said Sally, slowly. Last time she’d been asked a favor, she’d become a teacher at Wolf Town High, and that had been a good thing. Here and now, she suspected it would be something entirely different.
“Coffee or tea?” Angus boomed out from the kitchen.
“Coffee, please,” Sally called back.
What followed was a bustling about as everyone was delivered their coffee, tea—or juice in Mala’s case. As well as scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, bagels, muffins and other goodies to dig into. Shifter metabolism. Important to keep up your energy after a moon run, so Sally dug in and prepared to listen. She tried not to look too baffled by her presence here among the other tired wolves.
Because the rest of the people at the table? The alpha,
the beta, the alpha’s kids, the alpha’s consort-slash-girlfriend dream wraith…and Sally. Who did not belong. One of us is not like the others rang inside her head.
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice.” Angus nodded at Sally in particular. “There’s been an important and rather strange development we need to discuss and, I believe, take action on.”
By this time, Mala was slumped at the table. Angus turned to her and spoke in a low voice. Not that they all couldn’t hear what was said. The upshot of it was Mala took off to bed, and Angus would convey what she had seen and experienced in her dream.
“Sally, you want to know why you’re here,” said Teo, the beta. He was one of the more perceptive wolves Sally had met. Perhaps it came of being a doctor.
“Well.” She gazed around the table. “I don’t quite fit with the royalty present.”
Angus tried not to look annoyed. He was very keen on presenting Wolf Town as democratic.
“We think,” Teo continued, unfazed, “you could help us out. Or, more specifically, investigate a somewhat troubling situation.”
“Investigate?” Sally taught piano lessons and English, and otherwise kept to herself. She sure as hell didn’t investigate.
“Mala dreamed last night.” Angus placed both large hands on the table in front him, settling into the narrative. “She discovered a six-year-old pup.”
Sally winced. Not good. He must have been endangered for Mala to find him, Sally understood that much about the dreams. “Is he still alive?” she blurted out.
“Yes. Thankfully, as his life was at risk. It wasn’t Mala who saved him though. She only observed.” Mala had observed Sally too, cowering in a basement room trying to figure out how to survive her psycho-stalker. Don’t think about that.
Sally wondered how the pup had survived without Mala’s help.
Teo continued, “A horse saved him.”
Sally felt taken aback. In fact, the entire table had a similar reaction. Horses were nice creatures, sure, but she didn’t think of them as protectors.
Running Free (Northern Shifters) Page 1
