Ian Drummond took his usual spot, holding up a corner of the room. Luke knew the danger he faced if he were to be caught here. Grateful, he nodded at the wolf and got a small salute in response.
Most of those present were single men and women. Clan Baumann was known for attracting people who couldn’t find mates. Crissy was their hope.
“Thank you for coming,” he said. “If Crissy knew what you’re doing for her, she’d cry.” Soft laughter filled the room. “She’s kind-hearted and wouldn’t want to see anyone hurt on her behalf, which is exactly why she so deserves saving.” He put his palm over his eyes for a second, managed to say “Thank you” once more, and sat.
“Yes, thanks to every one of you,” Neal said into the silence. “I know you’re missing work and your loved ones and taking a great risk.” He stared down at his shoes for a second. “It’s been a long time. Many of you haven’t fought since Kansas, over a century ago. Many more of you haven’t been in a clan war at all.”
“But we’re ready!” someone shouted to a chorus of agreement. Neal smiled ruefully, but Luke wasn’t fooled. Clan Baumann had always been peaceful, responding to threats rather than making them.
As Neal continued, Luke closed his eyes and did the one thing that helped him cope: felt for the only bright spot in his life, the mating cord with Crissy. Sudden confusion and panic flooded the connection, and something odd... He sat up straighter, straining to be sure.
“She’s moving!” he shouted, interrupting Neal.
“You sure?” Neal said.
Luke concentrated. “In a vehicle, I think. It’s moving west fast. I don’t know for sure. I need a map.”
After a week of studying Schmitt territory, Hugh kept maps at the ready. They unfolded it over the coffee table, and Luke found the red dot that signified Schmitt headquarters. He ran his forefinger along the map to come to rest at a spot in the middle of nowhere. “She’s about here.” He frowned. “There’s nothing there.”
“Fire roads,” someone said. “Does that map show fire roads?”
Luke bent over to peer at the map. Fine lines feathered out from the main roads. “Yes, but the sense of her isn’t tight enough to say which one. He closed his eyes and concentrated. “She’s stopped. She’s—” He smiled.
“What, Luke? What do you sense?” Neal said.
“Joy. She’s feeling joy.” He yanked his keys from his pocket. “I need to go to her. I think she’s free.”
“Wait,” Connie said. She went to a stack of supplies along the wall and snatched a plastic bag. “Hopefully, you’ll need this.”
He looked in the bag. Clothes. A set of Crissy’s clothes. “I hope so, too.”
“We’ll escort you as far as we dare,” Neal said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Clouds heavy with snow lay low over the land as Luke turned east on the highway. The storm hit as full dark fell, making for slow progress. He cursed the weather but took comfort in the fact it made no difference. He could find her on the other side of the world, and if the roads closed, he could always follow her as the bear.
He rode the highway into a world of darkness and snowflakes drifting into the headlights, and tried not to spend the time berating himself. Neal was right. Too soon. Too damaged. What an idiot he was to wait so long and think he couldn’t wait a few months longer.
Neal’s Mercedes, traveling along behind him, pulled into a rest area twenty miles into Schmitt territory. Any spot along the highway was an unofficial no-man’s land, and he should be safe enough there.
After an hour. he thought he might be catching up to her. After ninety minutes, he was certain. Her presence still moved in an easterly direction, deep in Schmitt territory, but she slowed. He turned off the highway onto a smaller road. Luke drove too fast, even with snow tires. The tires skidded on ice, forcing him to slow down. The steering wheel creaked as he gripped it in frustration with bear strength. At last, he pulled onto a dirt fire road and parked his truck. Hastily removing his clothes, he shifted and sped off through the forest.
While the Baumann clan lived in more open territory that backed onto woods, the Schmitts lived either in towns or heavily forested areas. They once were what their name implied—artisans and craftsmen—and many still were, but none were farmers needing open spaces.
As he crashed through underbrush and brambles, heedless of his fur, the ghostly scent of a passing shifter occasionally came to him through the snow. Luke gave wide berth to two shifter homes, knowing his scent would be noted eventually. He hoped it would be long after he’d recovered Crissy.
Her presence approached, as did another shifter residence. Panic loomed. If they caught her again, she might be harmed. Schmitts hated Baumanns with an unreasoning hatred. What they had done with Crissy, he could only guess.
An expansive log home, bright with lights and surrounded by boundary magic, stood at the top of a small rise above him. He saw no one but sensed a woman nearby. And Crissy. For several minutes he stood in the shelter of the trees, dusted with snow. His bear, a solitary creature, did understand mate, but still fought him a little to go home and sleep. Winter wasn’t his best season. He shoved the beast down and continued to watch. Movement along the roof line caught his eye, and a happy grunt escaped him. Crissy perched there, in the warm shadow of a smoking chimney.
She was terribly exposed. He simply must go to her. One cautious step at a time, he crept up the rise. Small footprints lay scattered over the cleared area around the house. Given the snowfall, someone was out there recently, perhaps watching Crissy. He paused far enough from the walls for Crissy, and anyone inside, not to see him, and shifted.
“Crissy,” he whispered. “Crissy! Come to me, Liebling. Let’s go home.”
His mate gave out a guttural “Kreeee” of distress he was becoming all too familiar with.
“Crissy, I know you’re in there. Come to me.”
He glanced to his left. The woman in the house moved from one room to another. Luke crept a little farther into the darkness.
“Crissy.”
She moved from claw to claw and fluttered her wings. “Kreeee.”
Luke stayed to the shadows and approached the side of the house. The rough-hewn logs should provide some handholds. He ran his hands over them, trying to find a path to the roof. Confident he could make his way, he stuck his toes in the crevices between the logs and climbed up the side of the building. Rough wood scraped at his skin; he paid it no mind. This was easy, and so far Crissy didn’t flee.
Halfway up the side, he felt guardedly optimistic about his chances when the curtains over the nearest sliding glass door flew open and a woman stood framed in the glowing electric light. Luke stared. The woman stared back. It was Ursula, Franz’s human wife. Shoot. This is Franz’s own house. She held up a blanket and said, “You look like you could use some help.”
Luke stared a moment longer. Ursula smiled a small, welcoming smile and raised the blanket a little higher. “Cold?”
Luke eased himself down the wall and halted at the base, waiting while Ursula approached. Her outstretched hand held the blanket for Luke, who took it and gratefully wrapped it around his shoulders.
“What would Franz say if he saw this?”
She shrugged. “He’d be mad. He’s not like his brother, though he’s fiercely loyal to him. Remember that.”
Crissy still perched in the lee of the chimney, but her head cocked to one side and her gaze locked on the two of them.
“Lost clan member?”
“She’s my mate. Her first shift hasn’t gone well.”
“Ah. That explains why you ventured into Schmitt lands with all the stealth and finesse of a lovesick bison.”
Wisely, Luke chose to say nothing. He couldn’t take his eyes off Crissy, silently willing her to come to him.
“She came to a human home for warmth,” Ursula said. “That’s a good sign. I don’t think it’s a normal hawk behavior.”
Hopes lifted, Luke smiled a litt
le. “You’re right. Crissy,” he called out. “Fingers and toes. Please try.”
In response, she vaulted off the roof, caught the thermal from the chimney and soared out of sight.
Luke closed his eyes and lowered his head. She headed farther east.
“She’s going to be in Bernie’s personal property soon,” Ursula said, as if Luke didn’t already know it.
“I know.”
“He likes to patrol at night.”
Luke sighed.
“He’s absolutely unreasonable when it comes to you Baumanns. I wouldn’t put it past him to kill you if you’re both in bear form.”
“I know, but I have to try. If I let her go, she’ll be lost for real.” A sad, wistful note crept into his voice. “She’s my mate.”
“You’ve waited an ungodly long time. What are you now? Six hundred?”
“Almost.”
“Don’t worry. Shifter magic is a funny thing. It takes care of those of you who are worthy.” She sounded sad. She would never be Franz’s mate if she wasn’t now.
“I hope.” Was he worthy? Had he waited this long only to lose his mate because of all the warfare with the Schmitts? He didn’t like to think so.
“Goodbye, Ursula. Thank you for your kindness.” He knew it was more than the act of a good Samaritan toward a passing stranger. By helping him, Ursula betrayed her husband. He wondered about the state of their love affair. “I’ll owe you.”
“I might collect,” Ursula said with a grin as Luke shifted and set off through the forest, chasing Crissy on foot. This time, having caught up, he easily stayed with her. The need for stealth forced him to a slower pace. Periodically she paused to rest in the upper branches of a tree, giving him the opportunity to reach her. He thought she might be slowing down. The rest breaks were longer each time. Maybe the hours-long flight had exhausted her, but until she shifted back he had no way of knowing for certain.
Crissy stopped and showed no sign of moving on. As a bear, his eyesight during the day only matched his as a human, but his night vision excelled. While he still had no ability to spy her in the upper branches above him, the mating bond told him she was there. He guessed she might be asleep. He wanted to climb up beside her, but the tree appeared too small for his weight. Climbing as a naked human wasn’t the best option, either.
Lying at the base of her tree, he laid his head on his paws, closed his eyes, and scented the night. Luke couldn’t allow himself the luxury of sleep. Bernie’s mixture of bear musk and human permeated the underbrush for a wide radius. Little moved. A fox dug in the snow nearby, and a distant raven cawed. The fox must be very hungry to be out on a night like this. Would Bernie patrol in this weather?
The answer was yes, as Bernie’s scent grew stronger and nearer. He had no choice. He had to flee for his own protection and to draw Bernie away from his mate. It felt cowardly, but he had fought the Schmitts before. At six hundred pounds, Luke was a large bear; Bernie topped seven hundred and fifty pounds—unusually big for a Eurasian brown bear—and had crazy on his side. With the help of both Neal and one of his aunts, he had barely survived the one time he challenged him.
Bernie could sense Crissy, but hopefully Luke would be the greater prize. Maybe she would flee before he sent someone who could climb or fly to her.
He could stay and fight. Bernie would attack, and Luke would almost certainly die, leaving Crissy without her mate. She recognized the bond. To have it severed now would break her already wounded soul. Another loved one who left her alone to carry on as best she could.
He couldn’t do it. Somehow, they must both survive.
Luke rose and gave one last mournful, silent glance at the treetops. He didn’t want to abandon his mate to the cold and dark. With careful steps, he eased away from the tree and headed west. Realizing his truck lay an hour away, he gave up stealth and began a flat-out sprint, crashing through the underbrush and tearing his fur. Nose as close to the ground as it could be without losing speed, he followed the scent of the path he had forged earlier.
From behind him, Bernie took up pursuit, making even more noise than Luke. For a short time Luke held the hope that his lighter frame gave him an advantage of speed. He gained ground, particularly when he sensed Bernie veering off to their right. After another few minutes, Luke found out why. He came to a deep ravine he had crossed earlier—slowly. Heedless, he thundered down the steep side, tumbled over roots and logs, and came to a dazed stop at the bottom. He shook his massive body and found something broken in his chest. Without the choice of rest, he headed for the far side, where another steep slope lay before him.
From up the ravine, rather than behind him, came the sounds of Bernie moving at speed. Bernie had a distinct advantage: knowledge of the terrain. Presumably he circled around to a better place to descend and now gained all the ground he’d lost and more. Luke frantically struggled up the slope, sliding back in loose soil. All the while, his bear beast grew more and more frantic. Luke couldn’t fight both the slope and the beast, couldn’t take the time and concentration he needed to keep the beast in check.
He gave in. With an ugly growl, he turned and faced Bernie. The other bear never slowed down, crashing into him at full speed, a growl coming from his own throat. The impact stunned them both for a few seconds. Luke lay on the forest floor amid a snowy pile of shattered branches. He raised himself up and leaped on Bernie, who stirred but remained on his side on the ground.
He took his one chance and went straight for Bernie’s throat with fangs bared. Teeth met flesh. Blood filled his mouth, but it wasn’t enough. Before he could tear Bernie’s throat out, the bigger bear heaved upward, shouldering Luke away. Luke leaped at him again. This time, Bernie reacted swiftly, claws swiping a deep gash across Luke’s shoulder. They both rose up on hind legs, front paws on shoulders as they each tried to reach the other’s throat.
They fought on, claws digging into muscle at the shoulders, deep bites along the side of the face. Luke twisted away only to have Bernie, using his greater size, muscle Luke to the ground on his back. He struggled, but Bernie soon had his jaw at Luke’s throat. First Bernie would disable him by tearing out his throat and then decapitate him while lay unconscious.
I’m sorry, Crissy.
He couldn’t budge the bigger bear and waited for the end to come, but Bernie didn’t make the killing bite. Confused, Luke stared up at the trees overhead. And still the bite did not come.
He reached for Crissy and sensed her presence come closer. She left the safety of the trees. Then a red-tailed hawk streaked from the sky, claws outstretched, and landed on Bernie’s head. Needle sharp talons dug into his eyes, and the bird screeched a long, guttural sound. Bernie roared in pain, letting loose Luke’s throat to rise up on his hind legs. With one lucky swipe of a massive paw, he batted Crissy out of the air. She hit a tree and slid to the ground, one wing obviously broken.
Bernie thrashed around in blind pain. Luke didn’t waste any time. He shifted to human, gathered his injured mate in his arms, and scaled the ravine. At the top, he began to run for his truck, but his human form’s weaknesses—the vulnerability of bare skin, the slower pace—hampered him. Dropping to all fours, he raised Crissy to his back and asked her to hang on. Talons pierced his skin, but he was too thankful she heard him to care. He shifted to bear and took off through the forest.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Crissy shivered on the passenger seat, although he’d wrapped a blanket around her. He drove as fast as he dared, talking to her all the while.
“Fingers and toes, Crissy. Think of your fingers. Think of making a fist. It’s there. Just remember.”
He should have prepared her better, should have taken more time to let her practice the mental exercises of change. But it never mattered to him. Natural shifters change at will from childhood, and the challenge of turning from one form to the other never occurred to him.
He swung through the rest area, barely slowing enough to tell Neal and the others he had C
rissy. Neal’s Mercedes pulled out of the parking area right behind him and tailed him along the highway.
The wing visibly repaired itself, returning to its normal shape and angle. She calmed as it did so, but occasionally called out and flapped her wings in agitation. When she sat still, her yellow eyes watched him. As they crossed Boundary Line Creek into Baumann territory, her head twisted around to settle her face into the feathers between her wings. Moments later she shifted.
Luke found a wide spot in the road and parked there. He took her hand; she stared at it and trembled. With the bag of clothes Connie thoughtfully provided, he exited the car and went to her door. He eased it open, not knowing if she would bolt. She remained in her seat. Yellow eyes stared at him, and his heart sank.
Neal parked behind his truck and got out of his vehicle. “Good,” he said with obvious relief. “Do you want us to stay or go on ahead?”
“Go. We’ll be along soon.”
Luke knelt in the cold gravel beside the passenger seat and slowly placed each foot in her underwear and inched them onto her body. She tolerated this, but made a low grumbling noise in her throat. Her jeans he drew on with equal care. Not once did she raise a limb to make his job easier. All the while, her head jerked around in odd movements. Taking a moment to watch her, he realized she never moved her eyes, turning her whole head to see. Like a hawk. Sadly, he dressed her in her remaining clothes, including a warm jacket, tucked her feet into the footwell, and wrapped her in the blanket.
“Liebling,” he said before he shut his door. When he cupped her face, she jerked her head away. “I know you’re in there. It’s going to be all right. I promise.” She responded with a low thrumming in her throat, neither human nor hawk.
The rest of the ride passed in silence, although Crissy continued to struggle and occasionally let out a screech of distress. At the house, he had to pull her from the car and her legs collapsed beneath her when he tried to help her stand. She must have forgotten how to walk. He lifted her and carried her to the house.
Runaway (Fox Ridge Shifters Book 1) Page 18
