by Debra Dunbar
I sat beside him. “You’re welcome. And no, I’m not mad at you. I’m a doctor and you’re…I don’t know. I guess you’re more like the sergeant. We both have the same goal; we just prioritize things differently because we are looking at a situation from a different angle.”
He nodded between bites of the pad Thai. Which I noticed he was eating at super speed. “Good. Because we’re both strong-willed. We’re going to butt heads pretty often.”
“I’m sure we will. When it comes to matters about your pack, I’ll advise, but you’re the boss. When it comes to health and safety, I’m hoping you’ll allow my expertise to sway you, even when it comes to your pack.”
Brent got up to take his bowl over to wash and I followed.
“Absolutely. And I did take your expertise into consideration earlier today, but as much as I’m worried about Leon, my priority is getting you out of here alive and unhurt.” He set down the dish and took me in his arms. “You can argue with me all you want, but you, my dear, will always come first.”
It was a weird feeling, knowing that someone was looking out for me. I hadn’t had that since I’d left the army. Every soldier’s life was important, but they especially guarded their medics. Good thing too, since once I was concentrating on helping the wounded, I wasn’t paying much attention to people trying to shoot me.
“I never would have made it this far in life if I couldn’t have a civil disagreement with someone and get past it.” I grinned. “Although a shouting match generally takes a bit longer to put behind me.”
“Hey, we weren’t shouting, just having a rather loud quarrel.” He ran a finger across my bottom lip. “So how long do you hold a grudge? What do I need to do to get back in your good graces?”
“Naked groveling? Breakfast in bed? A massage?” I suggested.
“All three once we get back home.” He leaned in and gave me a soft lingering kiss, pulling at my lower lip with gentle teeth. “In the meantime, I’ll set up your tent. My night vision is better, and that way you can check on Leon before it gets too dark to see. Deal?”
I kissed him back, leaning into him. “Deal.”
Brent carried Leon’s pack and his, plus the werewolf bundled up in his sleeping bag. I followed behind with my pack. Two miles never seemed so far. We went off the trail and took a circuitous route to our camp spot, but once there I agreed wholeheartedly with Brent. It was a defensible spot with the river looping around two thirds, and a tall monolith of a rockface at our back. There were two narrow spots to get in and out—easy for us to shoot anyone who tried to come up on us. There was enough room to maneuver around too, in case one of the bad guys was a mountain goat shifter and decided to climb the monolith and shoot down at us.
And beyond that, it was beautiful. The river was swift, with white splashing around and against a scattered mess of rocks. The sound of the water mixed with the evening birdsong and the hum of the insects were a perfect accompaniment to the late-day beams of sun filtering through the trees to dance across the water.
Our camping spot was a beach full of round rocks. Not the most comfortable spot for sleeping, but we’d make due. Brent, good to his word, set up the tents while I took Leon’s vitals. He seemed to be improving, and I think his deep sleep was more about healing then any setback caused by our travel.
Brent had set Leon’s tent in a sheltered area under an overhang where he’d be protected if a firefight broke out. Before it got too dark, we tucked him in for the night, then sat together, listening to the river as the sky grew dark.
“Bed?” I reached out and ran a hand down his back, feeling the muscles jump under my palm.
“You go to bed. I’ll take first watch.”
I slipped my fingers under his shirt and ran them along the edge of his waistband. “Are you watching in your wolf or human form?”
He hesitated a moment. “Wolf. It’s a compromise. I’d like to be able to shoot a rifle, but my sense of smell and hearing is better as a wolf. Plus, big teeth, you know.”
“The better to eat you with, my dear?”
He groaned. “Don’t give me ideas. I’d much rather be going down on you than waiting for an attack to come.”
“A couple more days and you can put those fantasies to good use. I’ll even delay my flight if I have to. Or we can do it in the airport. I’ve got business lounge privileges. That’s got to at least give me a booth in a dark corner where you can sneak under the table and turn me into a quivering mess.”
“Ideas. Stop. I won’t be able to focus, and we’ll all die. Then you’ll never get oral sex, so cut it out.”
“Nope.” I leaned over and kissed him, deep and long, my hands lightly tracing a path along his waist. “I want to give you a reason to focus. All this is yours baby. All yours once we get out of here. Now go guard the camp, and kick some murdering hunter ass.”
He growled deep in his throat and grabbed the back of my head, twisting my hair in his fist. “I’d fight to the death to protect you.”
I smiled and pulled away. Even with his hold on my hair, he loosened his grip the moment before it pulled. “Now that’s a little extreme. How about you not die, and we both protect each other? I’m a pretty good shot, and in case one of them is a were-mountain-goat, I can use the special bullets. Deal?”
He tilted his head, a puzzled smile curling up his mouth. “Were-mountain-goat? If there is such a thing, then I know what we’re having for dinner tomorrow night.”
I laughed. “Eww. Isn’t that cannibalism? Weirdo. I’ve fallen in love with a cannibal shifter. Great.”
He got to his feet and pulled his shirt over his head. “Normally the thought would never cross my mind, but if there are such things as were-rabbits, were-chickens, and were-goats, all bets are off.”
And with that, he shucked off his pants and walked into the woods to shift while I admired his incredibly tight backside. Yum.
But “yum” would have to wait for later, because while Brent was guarding, I didn’t intend to sleep in my tent where I’d be in a world of trouble if we were attacked. No, better to sleep out here leaning against the rockface with the sleeping bag wrapped around me and a rifle in my hand. And the other rifle, loaded and ready, beside me.
Chapter 14
Brent
I spent the night making loops around our camp, widening out my circle then coming back in to watch Kennedy sleep bundled up in her green sleeping bag, two rifles at the ready. She’d left her leg on, just in case there was trouble. I knew it had to be bothering her to have it on for such a long period of time. She’d told me once that it was so well fitted and crafted that she could spend eighteen hours standing in surgery without any more fatigue or pain than someone with two legs would feel. Even so, this had been a tough day of hiking, and she’d spent several days beforehand hiking and climbing. Beyond tight and sore muscles, I’m sure she was longing for a length of time without the prosthetic.
But she’d push through it, because that’s what she did. That’s what I did too. We were so alike. I know that opposites were supposed to attract, but decades of dating my opposite only led me to frustration and a migraine that wouldn’t quit. The few times I’d felt that click had been with someone who walked on the same side of life as I did. And never had I felt that click like I had with Kennedy.
Night passed without incident, but I couldn’t stop that prickling up my spine that told me danger was just out of my line of sight, waiting and biding its time to make a move. When the sky was the light gray that heralds the coming dawn, I went back to camp and started water for coffee and breakfast, checking on Leon. He was sleeping peacefully, seeming better than he had been yesterday, even after our strenuous hike.
Kennedy slept like a baby, soft little snores from her slumped-over position. I made coffee as quietly as I could, then waved a cup in front of her nose to awaken her.
She blinked open those gorgeous, sleepy, bedroom eyes and gave me a smile that sent blood rushing right down to my cock. I wish
ed I wasn’t so uneasy about our situation, or I’d take the time to wake her up properly.
“Is it… It’s morning. You were on watch all night? You didn’t wake me?”
I kissed the top of her head. “I’m waking you now. Oatmeal or reconstituted scrambled eggs?”
She frowned at me but took the coffee. “Oatmeal sounds good. How’s Leon?”
“Sleeping. He seems better.”
“Good.” She stood, rubbing her back. “Ugh. I don’t recommend sleeping on a bed of rocks.”
I turned and something caught my eye—a flash of light reflected on something on the other bank of the river. Instinctively I reached out for Kennedy, pushing her against the rock and covering her with my body as I heard the echo of a gunshot. Something hot grazed my side, spreading a burning sensation through every nerve.
Kennedy cursed and pushed at me, wiggling down to grab one of the rifles. Everything happened in slow motion—me learning against the rock feeling bones and muscles twist and reshape with a blinding pain, Kennedy sliding the bolt on the rifle and aiming through the scope, another gunshot, this one pinging off the rock beside me. Then Kennedy fired.
I dropped to all fours, shifting faster than I’d ever been able to do before, feeling as if the whole process was completely out of my control. More shots. A hand at my shoulder shoved me flat to the ground and I saw Kennedy dart behind a boulder.
Fur, paws, fangs. Everything sharpened, every scent and sound pouring into me like water. A feeling of power and strength surged through me and I pushed through the burning pain and snarled. They’d killed too many of us. It was my turn to kill some of them.
Chapter 15
Kennedy
I’d never been so angry, so determined, in my life. They’d shot Brent, and even though the bullet just grazed him, I saw the spreading stain of blood and I saw him begin to shift. A memory of Leon sprawled across the ground, two hunters congratulating each other on their kill resurfaced in my mind. I wouldn’t let that happen to Brent. Leon had survived whatever was in those bullets. Brent would too—as long as he didn’t take any additional shots.
I shoved him flat to the ground, feeling his rough fur and the wet of blood against my hand. Then I found cover and took aim. I couldn’t see the guy across the river, but a few well-placed shots would flush him out, and I’d be ready.
Another shot, this one from the narrow path leading into our camp. They were hemming us in, guarding the two easy exits out of here with another making sure we didn’t take to the river. I was willing to bet there was another one climbing up the rockface to shoot down on us. Whether that one was a mountain-goat shifter or a human skilled in climbing it didn’t matter. We’d be trapped and between the guy above and the guy across the river, they’d eventually kill us all.
So the key was to kill the guy across the river before mountain-climber got into position. He obviously wasn’t there yet or there would be bullets raining down from above, which made me believe the guy across the water had jumped the mark. If I could kill him, I’d be able to concentrate on climbing guy who wouldn’t be able to shoot down at us without exposing himself.
Take both of them down, and the other two would need to either make a move or change position, either of which was fine with me. I could gun down anyone coming into camp, and if they moved away from the entrance, it would put us at equal advantage.
I saw a movement in the brush through the scope and shot. Another movement, and I shot again. The briars undulated. The guy was on the move. Now that I’d flushed him out, made him reveal his position, I took aim and prayed.
The movement ceased. I wasn’t sure if I’d hit him, killed him, or if he suddenly become smart and decided to hold still, so I let off another two shots just to make sure, then pivoted to look above.
The sound of a snarl raised the hair on the back of my neck and I looked over to see Brent. Blood dripped from his hip, but that was the only indication of his injury. I’d seen him several times in his wolf form, but never like this. He was normally huge—much larger than a normal wolf, but right now he seemed gigantic. Fur bristled in a line from his neck down his back. His yellow eyes glowed feverishly bright, and his bared teeth looked lethal.
He was pissed—really, really pissed. And I wasn’t sure if he’d recognize me in this state. My adrenaline went into overdrive and I pressed my back against the rock, trying to look above me for an attack and keep an eye on him as well.
The next gunshot didn’t come from above, but from the entrance to our camp. It hit my shoulder, and I gasped, nearly dropping the rifle. Brent roared, and I cringed, but instead of jumping on me, he spun about and ran straight for shooter. The man screamed, firing off two more rounds before Brent was on him.
I couldn’t watch. Not because I was particularly squeamish about seeing a giant wolf rip someone to bits, but because I’d seen something above me. A gun muzzle. A rain of small rocks and dirt hitting my face. My shoulder was on fire, but Brent was right in this guy’s line of sight, so I fired straight up, hoping to throw off the man’s aim.
Bits of rock flew off the lip of the monolith. I shot again and again, determined to keep this guy’s attention on me.
“Brent, get out of there,” I shouted. “Get back against the rock.”
I heard a shot, not from above as I’d feared, but from inside the camp. I spun around, my heart pounding. The fourth guy. I’d been so busy worrying about the dude overhead that I’d forgotten about him and let him have opportunity to come in and shoot Brent.
As I turned I saw a man in camouflage lying facedown on the ground, a bloody hole in the back of his head. I kept pivoting, and saw Brent still savaging the other man, then Leon. The werewolf was holding the second rifle in shaking hands. With a weak smile my direction, he dropped to his knees.
Once again I looked up, worried that what I hoped was the sole remaining bad guy might be aiming to kill either of the two werewolves. I heard falling rock, the scramble of feet and the crash of a heavy body landing on top of brush and dead wood.
Brent heard it too. Lifting his blood-soaked muzzle he cocked his head, ears twitching. Then with a growl he took off. I hesitated, not thrilled that he was running after a guy who most probably had bullets that could kill him, but I could never catch him judging from the speed at which he could run, so instead I went to Leon.
The werewolf was breathing heavy, holding his chest. I didn’t see any signs of a massive hemorrhage, so I helped him back to a more sheltered area and propped him against a rock, watching him for indications of internal injury.
“You okay?” he asked, eyeing my shoulder.
“I’ll live,” I told him, checking his stitches. My shoulder was on fire, but it wasn’t a serious wound, and unlike the werewolves, whatever was in the bullets didn’t seem to do me any additional damage. I wasn’t a stranger to pain, and there was plenty of time to cry and doctor myself up once all my soldiers were safe.
“Here.” I handed Leon the rifle he’d used, just in case he needed it, then got the sleeping bag to support him and keep him upright. I’d just gotten him comfortable when I heard another shot.
This time it was me that took off, gun in hand. Brent was in wolf form, which meant he was most likely the one being shot at. I followed the trampled brush and spots of blood, terrified at what I might find. I hadn’t brought my medical kit with me. If Brent was shot, I’d need to run back to get my supplies.
It was the longest ten minutes of my life, that panicked scramble through the woods. I was afraid to call out for him, and equally afraid that I’d find him dead. I nearly fainted when I saw him staggering toward me on the trail, and I’m not a fainting kind of woman.
Rushing toward him, I resisted the urge to throw myself at him and wrap my arms around his neck. Brent’s yellow eyes were wide and he panted heavily as he came toward me. The wound on his hip where the bullet grazed him was still bleeding, and on his rump was another bloody wound.
I wasn’t sure how much
time I had to get the bullet out of him. Leon had been shot twice and he’d barely pulled through even though I was able to perform my makeshift surgery right away. We were half a mile from the camp and my kit.
“Keep heading to the camp,” I told Brent, hoping he wasn’t in so much pain that he wandered off the path and blacked out where I couldn’t find him. “I’m going to run back for my kit and return.”
He nodded, his pace slow but determined. I sprinted, my lungs on fire by the time I tore into camp, grabbed my kit and ran back.
Brent wasn’t much farther than he’d been when I left him, but he was still on his feet, taking one agonizing step at a time.
“Rest here. Lie down so I can get to where you’re shot.” I examined the wound, breathing easier once I discovered the bullet lodged in the muscle tissue of his rump.
He let out a sigh and closed his eyes. His breathing was labored, but his heart rate was steady, which was better than Leon’s condition had been.
“This is terribly unsanitary and there’s no anesthesia, so you’re just going to have to clench your sharp teeth and get through it.”
I trimmed the hair around the wound and rinsed it, using gauze to keep the blood from obscuring my view of the bullet.
“Okay. I’m going to do this. Just don’t bite me. I’ve already lost one limb; I’d really like to keep the remaining three.”
He made a huff noise that I took to be a laugh. The laugh turned to a pained growl as I carefully inserted my forceps into the wound, using my fingers around the area to keep the bullet from working in deeper or slipping sideways. Once I had a good grip on it, I extracted it then cleaned and stitched the wound. For good measure, I cleaned and stitched the minor graze on his hip that didn’t seem to want to clot.
By the time I was done, he was out, breathing easier and the bleeding around the stitches slowing. I hated to leave Leon alone in the camp, especially since he was just recovering from his own injuries, but my priority would always be with Brent. He was far too big and heavy for me to drag back to camp as I’d done Leon, even if I didn’t have an injury of my own hindering me. So instead, I sat down beside him, one hand resting on top of his head, the other hand holding the rifle. And there I stayed until the sun began its descent toward the horizon.
