by Abigail Owen
Zac would hate it, would probably be spitting mad. She could deal with that too.
“You’re not gonna just let him do this on his own, are you?”
It hadn’t really been a question. Sarai discovered George at her side. Everyone else had gone back inside. He’d been ordered to stay and protect her.
She put her hands on her hips. “No.”
Of course she wasn’t. Now she’d made up her mind, a plan swiftly formed. Conviction settled in her gut. Her vision was hers to change.
“You going to try to stop me?” She raised a single eyebrow at him in questioning.
“With all those knives just itching to fly. No ma’am. Guess I’ll just have to go along so I don’t get in trouble.”
Sari gave him a sharp nod. “Good.”
CHAPTER 34
“How much farther?” Sarai asked.
She and George had been on the road now for several days, crossing Canada to get to the Timik. Hopefully flying under anyone’s radar. They’d “borrowed” one of the cars from the Keller Compound and driven to Helena. From there George had hired a private plane to get them to Canada. He said he used private resources to fund it, whatever that meant.
“Not long now. Just over that rise,” George said. After their flight, they’d driven as far as the roads allowed and had had to hoof it from there. They’d been moving between patches of trees over a mountainous terrain for hours. The air snapped with a chill, but felt good after the unusually hot months in New York.
“Right,” she replied.
“He won’t be happy to see you.”
“I know.”
“He’ll take it as a betrayal of trust.”
“I get it, George, but I couldn’t let him face this alone.”
“I understand, honey. I just wanted to say something, since this is our last chance to turn back.”
Sarai gave him a thoughtful look. “I was under the impression you were all for my coming here.”
“I am. But I don’t want my opinion to sway you.”
“You’re off the hook. My own opinions swayed me just fine.”
Despite the banter, Sarai dreaded Zac’s reaction. She couldn’t see anything of it in either of their futures. She kept moving because she could still see their daughter. That hadn’t changed, and she wasn’t pregnant yet.
George topped the rise before she did. Sarai, watching where she was placing her feet, plowed right into him.
“Oof. Some warning might be goo—”
Sarai’s eyes widened as her heart sank, fear and adrenalin pumping through her. “No,” she whispered. Inside, she screamed the word.
They were too late.
Without thought of consequence, she took off, sprinting down the hillside as fast as the terrain would allow. She would have shifted—her cougar was much more capable and a helluva lot faster—but she needed her knives.
She noticed with horror the smoke which billowed from various buildings along the main stretch of street. The scent hung heavy in the air, burning her lungs. She couldn’t hear any sounds. No children crying. No screaming. No roars and booms of a battle either. The entire area was eerily silent.
George suddenly flew past in his polar bear form. Even in the midst of her anxiety, she noted how soundless he was. For such a big animal, that was impressive. A potential advantage against any wolf shifters still in the vicinity.
She still wasn’t to town yet as she watched him disappear between two buildings. She listened, but no sound of a struggle, no bellow of rage, came.
They were gone.
They were all gone, and it was her fault. She could have stopped this. Somehow. If she’d sent Zac home sooner maybe. Or…. No. She couldn’t think that way. All she could do now was move forward, deal with the cards fate had dealt her.
Sarai slowed as she neared the closest building. She pulled out two of her knives, ready to defend herself. She followed what she hoped were George’s fresh paw prints through the small village. She’d known what to expect…old-fashioned houses built of thick logs. She knew inside they were updated with as many mod/cons as a series of generators could sustain. She’d already seen it in her visions. Still, she’d sort of imagined more traditional Inuit-like huts.
She moved from house to house, noting that some of the buildings were community buildings—a hall, a store, even a pizza parlor. The longer she walked, the more terrified she became. No one was left. Not a single person remained.
More than that, evidence of a nasty gun fight was obvious everywhere. Several building fronts had the windows shot out. Casings littered the ground. A mishmash of human and animal tracks crisscrossed the ground. Tons of blood, though no bodies. At least none that she saw.
She discovered George on the other side of town, some distance away in the trees. She stood in watchful silence as he sniffed around.
Finally he shifted. “They went this way.”
“Do they have everybody with them?”
He shook his head. “No. Most of the Timik left to join with our closest sister Timik about five hundred miles west of here.”
“How can you tell?”
He pointed. “A set of tracks leading out of here headed in that direction.”
Sarai breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God,” she murmured. But how’d they escape?
George caught her frown of confusion and answered her question before she asked. “My guess is they holed up in the bunker Zac had built. Left when the fighting was over. Hopefully, they took the injured and dead with them.”
“Why?”
“’Cause if the wolf shifters have them, who knows how they’re being treated.”
“Heaven help us,” she breathed. “Can you tell who they do have?”
He shook his head. “Not with any certainty. They loaded them up on some kind of wagon or truck it looks like. They went this way.”
She looked where he pointed. “Can you track them?”
“As long as they’re in the wagon, it’s pretty easy. It’ll leave deep ruts. If they go by foot, gets harder. Means they’ll be trying to hide their tracks.”
“Right. Let’s go.”
“Hold on there, missy. Who said you’re going?”
Sarai just looked at him and crossed her arms over her chest, unconsciously mimicking Zac’s unyielding posture.
He gave her a dry look. “Heaven help us, you’re even starting to act like him,” he muttered.
Sarai still said nothing, just started walking in his direction. As soon a she reached his side, George stopped her with a hand on her arm. “At least let me go get some clothes.”
“Right. Time to call Andie.” She pulled the satellite phone they’d also “borrowed” out of her backpack.
George grimaced. “Good luck with that.”
They hadn’t told Andie they were leaving. George had snuck her out. Luckily the compound was set up more to keep people out. Not in.
They hadn’t risked calling until now. Sarai had left a note for her friend, though she doubted that would help much.
Sarai cringed but dialed.
“We’re already on our way to you,” Andie said without preamble.
“How—?”
“I was already planning on following Zac with backup. I sent as many of my fighters with him as I could spare on such short notice and not leave the compound light. We had to wait for more to arrive from the other dares. We’re about six hours behind you.”
Sarai heaved a sigh of relief with the knowledge that Andie was on the way, bringing the might of the Shadowcat Nation with her.
Quickly, she filled her friend in on the state of things. “George and I are going to follow the tracks.”
“The hell you are—”
“You’ll just have to get here fast to help us.”
George returned loaded down with a pack full of what she assumed were provisions or weapons. Both were needed. She rolled her eyes at his raised eyebrows.
“Don’t you dare—” Andie tr
ied again.
Sarai cut her off again. “Don’t call the phone in case we’re somewhere the ringing could get us in trouble.”
“Sarai—”
She clicked the button to hang up.
George whistled low. “I already knew Zac would kill me if I let anything happen to you,” he finally said. “But now you’ve set Andie on my tail too.”
“You scared?” she teased as they started into the woods, following the ruts made by whatever those damn wolves had loaded the bears into.
“It hurts that you don’t care.”
Sarai shook her head. “Oh, I care. Given what I know about you though, I suspect they’d both have a hard time killing you.”
“Hmmm. Well, I wouldn’t be too happy if anything happened to you myself.”
Sarai stopped walking long enough to throw her arms around him in a big hug. “You and me both,” she muttered.
CHAPTER 35
Zac sat in a cell in a state of calm deliberation. He’d woken in pitch-black silence. He couldn’t even see his own hand in front of his face. There was enough of a damp chill in the air that he assumed he had to be below ground.
Something he’d confirmed as he’d spent the next few minutes exploring by touch and had felt the rough rock walls. His cell seemed to be made from a natural hollow in a cave wall closed off by floor-to-ceiling iron bars.
He’d discovered, rather painfully, that those bars were electrified. He’d also found out the hard way that his new quarters were too small to allow him to shift. That, and the thick iron collar around his neck, made it impossible. It would slice through his neck if he tried. Otherwise, he would have tested the brute strength of his bear against those bars, electricity be damned. Now he had only one choice—wait for his captors to reveal their intentions.
He dropped his head into his hands. He’d called ahead to warn his people. He hoped to hell most of the Timik made it into the underground bunker he’d had built just for these kinds of situations. After his parents’ deaths at the hands of a pack of wolf shifters, he’d sworn none of his people would ever be left without a place to weather such an attack.
Andie had sent a group of her fighters with him. He’d had the helicopter drop them off a good distance from the village, hoping to sneak their extra numbers in, give them an advantage if it came down to a fight.
But within minutes of reaching the village they’d been under attack, as though their assailants had waited just for him. They’d come in numbers. Wolves, coyotes, grizzlies, even a few mountain lions. Worse, out here in the woods, with no risk of exposure to humans, they’d brought guns. With no time to coordinate or group, the violence had escalated into pandemonium.
His memory turned a little fuzzy after that. The cougars he was with, well trained fighters, had done what they could. As had he and his bears. He remembered fighting hard. He had taken out a good dozen of their assaulters. Until they’d shot him full of what had to be tranquilizers. He’d been out cold in minutes. Even so, he’d managed to take another couple of coyotes out before he dropped to the ground. A grim smile pulled at his mouth.
Then he’d woken up in this hellhole with a thundering headache.
Every few hours someone came by Zac’s cell. Sometimes a wolf-shifter. He could tell by the smell. They had other types of shifters with them. Some whose scents he didn’t recognize. Feline of some sort, if he had to guess. They never came inside, and they never asked questions or demanded anything from him.
Instead, he’d lain, helpless, as they’d pummeled him with rubber bullets, hurled rocks, even a blast of water from what he had to assume was a fire hose. They’d knocked him out a couple of times with these methods. They fed him once a day—a bucket of food and a bucket of water pushed through the bars. Barely enough to keep him alive. He had no idea what he shoved in his mouth, but nothing squirmed or tasted sour, so he ate it.
He had no idea what his captor’s motivation or plans were. Best guess…they were gradually weakening him before a real fight. Stacking the deck, so to speak, in their favor. Few land-based shifters were as physically powerful as a polar bear. But what would the fight be for? For rights to the Timik? For some kind of alliance? This wasn’t the way to go about winning his trust for that kind of thing. Why didn’t they just kill him outright?
In addition, they’d captured several of his people and a few of Andie’s cougars. That much he knew. They’d woken not long after he had and were close enough that they could hear each other call out, sometimes scream. He knew they’d been treated to the same rough beatings…and he could do nothing about it but roar into the dark.
Someone had done their homework. They’d known exactly who of his people to target, though they’d missed a few key folks by the sound of it. In particular, Corrie and Shane both appeared to be absent. Thank heavens for small mercies.
No one else knew Corrie was a Seer. After Sarai’s stories, that was a secret he intended to guard even more fiercely. Meanwhile, Shane…the cougar shifter was a tracker, among other skills. If he was still on the loose, maybe they had a chance of being rescued.
Until then, Zac sat on the cold floor, as far away as possible from the corner he used as a toilet. He leaned back against the wall, arms resting on his up-drawn knees. His thoughts, which should have been on escaping, focused on a particular blue-eyed blond who was probably freaking out.
When he didn’t check in, Andie would come for him. He’d bet good money she was on her way already. Since he wasn’t sure how long he’d been out, or even what time of day or night it was, Zac had no idea what might happen next. His internal clock told him it had been only about three or four days since their capture.
Zac clenched his jaw as the sound of approaching footsteps striking the rock flooring echoed down the tunnel of cells. He didn’t bother to move. He’d tried hiding in corners, flattening himself on the floor. Anything he could do to avoid the beating. But his captors must have night vision goggles, because they’d shown unerring accuracy no matter what he did. Now he balled up to protect his head and stomach as much as possible. He refused to utter a sound, no matter the pain inflicted. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing they’d hurt him. He wouldn’t break…and he wouldn’t die.
He’d promised Sarai he’d return to her.
When he did, he’d make damn sure she knew exactly how special she was to him. Sure, he’d claimed her publically, but he hadn’t told her what was in his heart. She deserved to know. If he ever saw her again, he wouldn’t hold back.
He latched onto that thought as a blast of frigid water slammed into him full force.
CHAPTER 36
Sarai trudged along behind George, careful to only step where he stepped as he moved through the woods. Doing so made it harder for anyone tracking them to determine numbers. She had no idea what he could see, or sense, or smell. They’d lost the tracks of the wagon ages ago. Now, he reminded her of stories of Native Americans and their infamous hunting and tracking skills. Then again, he was a descendant of the Inuit people, plus whatever else he was.
Either way, he never stopped or hesitated. She had absolute confidence he brought her closer to Zac with every step.
Suddenly, George jerked to a halt. The change in momentum was so abrupt, Sarai just barely avoided smacking into him. He scanned the area all around them, nose twitching as he took in some scent she was missing. If he’d been in his bear form, his ears would have been twitching too. Sarai stayed still as a statue and let him do his thing.
Then she heard it. A low growl coming from the underbrush just ahead of them. Not the growl of a bear or even a wolf. Sarai knew that sound. Whoever was ahead of them was a cougar shifter. The question was, exactly what side was this shifter on?
“He’s not growling at us,” George whispered.
Interesting.
“Got your knives ready?” he prompted.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Follow me. If you have to engage, I want you to try to stay
out of sight, just use the knives. Got it?”
Another nod.
Together, on stealthy feet, they inched closer. The hairs on the back of Sarai’s neck raised in response to the sound of several wolves, maybe two or three, their growls low and menacing.
George paused. He pointed to the ground, indicating Sarai should stay there. Then he mimed her peeking over the top of a large bush to see. After he got her nod of understanding, he moved away, off to the left.
Sarai waited, trying not to breathe loud, heart pounding.
She heard George’s voice. “You know, three against one just ain’t fair. But three against two. Better odds. Wouldn’t you say so, Shane?”
Sarai opened her mouth in a silent gasp. The cougar shifter was Shane. Friend then, at least she assumed so, and faced off against three wolves.
“Much better odds.” She heard Shane’s once-familiar deep tones rumble his answer.
Their adversaries made no comment, which was unfortunate as Sarai could have used that to get a lock on their location.
The next sound was a cacophony of roars, screams, and snarls. They must’ve all shifted and gone after each other. Sarai peered over the bush, a knife already in hand. All she saw was flying fur, snapping teeth, and grappling animals. She wouldn’t be able to throw from this position, she realized. She inched around the trees until she had a clearer view of the fight.
Two of the wolves were on top of George. Literally on him. Shane was handling his opponent for the moment. She watched and waited for her opportunity.
It came fast. George stood up on his hind legs to his full ten-foot height. The two wolves on his back couldn’t hang on. As they slid to the ground, Sarai nailed one in the back. Her second throw missed the other wolf, instead lodging in the tree behind him. He moved toward her with a snarl. The distraction was just what George needed. He snapped the wolf’s neck with a powerful, well-placed bite.
Then they both turned to Shane, who had pinned his opponent to the ground. He had his teeth sunk into the animal’s neck, but hadn’t bitten hard enough to crush its windpipe or rip out its jugular.
