by J. D. Tyler
Settling down again, she tossed until daylight broke, sleep elusive. Rather than being rested, she was tired and rattled. She’d been so afraid she’d fall asleep and wake up to find the thread connecting her to the sexy stranger had vanished. But it was still there, waiting.
Centering herself, she sat with her legs crossed and closed her eyes, arms loose in her lap. Focusing inward, she let the sounds of the waking forest carry her away. The telltale tingle danced over her skin, the signal that her body was going into its trancelike state. Slowly, her consciousness separated from her body, leaving it behind. Looking back, she saw herself sitting peacefully in the tent and, satisfied, set out to follow the thread.
At first the journey was easy. Not confined to flesh, she soared over the trees, basking in the sunlight and the beauty of the day. Onward she traveled, the connection leading her to a curious break in the forest, a place where the trees had been cleared. In the center of the clearing sat a large building boasting several wings. The thread led to one of those wings in particular.
In seconds, she stood in what appeared to be a hallway. Before her was a door, and beyond it, she knew she’d find the man she sought. Going forward, she simply walked through it, intent on reaching the still form on the bed—
A loud shriek snapped Daria painfully back into her body. The sound echoed through the mountains, causing her pulse to stutter in her chest. “What the hell?”
As the sound died away, she tried to figure out what in God’s name it had been. The creature’s angry, baritone cry reminded her of something prehistoric out of an old Godzilla movie. Unbelievable, but accurate. As the call died, chills pimpled her skin. Whatever it was, it could be miles away.
That idea was enough to get her moving. She felt too much like a sitting duck here, and she couldn’t try the projection again for a while anyway. Quickly, she broke camp, packing her tent and supplies, and then making sure the fire was completely out. Then she headed down the trail on the way to her next site.
Thoughts of the blond man were never far from her mind as she hiked. She much preferred to think of him rather than the terrible dream, or the disturbing bellow from some strange animal. Could a grizzly bear make a sound like that, if it was in dire pain? She didn’t think so. But out here, what could be large enough to make that noise and be heard for miles?
Don’t think of it. Think of him.
She put the mystery animal from her thoughts and lost herself in enjoying the day. She tackled a couple of steep switchbacks, and by noon, tired and sweating, finally stopped to rest. Dragging off her pack, she rolled her shoulders with relief and bent to reach inside for her water.
A familiar stench hit her nose and she straightened slowly. Blood and rotting flesh. Standing stock-still, she turned only her head, scanning the area for signs of the remains that must be nearby. Up ahead, she spotted some broken branches off to the side of the trail. Beyond that, perhaps thirty yards into the foliage, there was something lying on the ground. Studying the lump, she thought she saw blue jean material, maybe a boot.
“Aw, shit.”
Quickly, she grabbed her handheld radio from the backpack. If it was a body, she’d have to call the rangers’ station and report it, then wait for them to arrive. She needed to check in with them anyway, let them know she was all right. Carefully, she ventured off the trail and picked her way to the lump on the ground. As she got closer, her fears were realized.
“God in heaven,” she whispered.
Once, the body had been a human, but whether it was a man or woman, she couldn’t say. The corpse had been literally torn to pieces. She spotted part of a leg, an arm. The torso was mostly gone, eaten. Huge teeth had ripped massive chunks of flesh from its victim, the marks so big she couldn’t fathom what creature had made them. There was no head to be seen.
Stumbling a few steps away, Daria fell to her knees and vomited. Her stomach turned inside out, though, thankfully, there wasn’t much to purge due to her lack of breakfast. As the heaves subsided, one thought screamed into her brain.
What if the killer is still here?
Swiping at her mouth, she pushed up and slung her backpack to the ground, radio in hand. Then she dove for the water hooked to the side and rinsed her mouth several times. Took a long drink. She had to call this in, but did she dare wait around for the thing to come back for seconds?
Raising the radio to her face, she was about to depress the button when a low growl made every hair stand on end. Turning slightly to the right, she blinked, not sure about what she was seeing. As it stalked forward, head lowered, she sucked in a breath.
The creature was a snow white wolf. It wasn’t very large—female if she had her guess. The she-wolf made another threatening rumble and continued to advance. All sorts of useless knowledge came to mind, such as the fact that there had never been a documented case of a wolf attacking a person.
Tell that to this one.
Daria depressed the button on her radio, intending to speak to the rangers, but she was too late. At that moment, the wolf launched itself forward. With a cry, Daria abandoned her belongings, spun around, and ran for all she was worth. And knew she’d done exactly the wrong thing. Her dad would rake her over the coals for making such a rookie move.
Legs pumping, she veered off the trail, searching frantically for a good tree to shimmy up. But there were none with the branches low enough. Snarling, the wolf snapped at her boots. She pushed on, faster.
As she topped a rise, the terrain suddenly fell away and she skidded to a stop, right at the edge of a deep ravine. “Fuck!”
She whirled to find the she-wolf right there. Panting, baring her teeth. Teeth that were nowhere near big enough to have caused the destruction of the dead hiker, but that hardly mattered right now. Looking around, she scanned the ground for a rock, anything. She didn’t want to throw her radio and risk damaging it, but it might make a good club.
She and the wolf locked gazes in a standoff. Daria was struck by the intelligence there, the lack of madness. What the hell was going on? Then a crash sounded from the forest. And another. The sound of heavy steps. More hikers? Maybe help was here.
The moment of distraction cost her. The wolf gathered itself, leapt, and knocked her backward. Daria staggered, tried to regain her balance.
And stepped into thin air. She fell, screaming, and then her back connected with the rocky ground, knocking the breath from her lungs. She tumbled, ass over elbows, rocks gouging and scraping, tearing her clothes. The slide went on forever it seemed.
Until she came to an extremely abrupt stop that made her bite her tongue. Warm blood flooded her mouth. She tried to move, but couldn’t. She was lying mostly on her back, her body wedged in a crevice formed by some boulders. Her left arm stuck out at a weird angle, bloody bone protruding through the skin. Trying to move, to get some sort of leverage, only caused waves of agony to pound her battered body.
Her radio? She moved her neck, attempted to see. There was nothing but rock all around, and her broken body was firmly trapped. The radio was gone, the cell phone in her pocket crushed . . . and nobody knew Daria’s exact location. In the Shoshone, it could take days for her to be found. Months.
Or her bones might still rest here decades from now.
She thought of her father, and his devastation when he learned his only child was dead. Lost to the very forest they had both loved so much. It would kill him.
Though it was too soon to attempt another projection without draining the last of her strength, she had no choice. She thought of reaching out to her father, but he was too far away to make a successful connection. But there was someone who was much closer. Ignoring the horrendous pain of her injuries, she closed her eyes. Found her center. It took much longer than usual.
Eventually, she felt the familiar tingle. The buzzing sensation that meant she was leaving her earthly form and traveling over time and distance. Determined, she once again followed the thread to the one she knew in her gut would under
stand her message. There was no time to lose.
She flew over the trees, soaring. Eventually, she reached the place she’d found him before, the big building in the forest. A curious place that appeared to be some sort of compound with another big building next to it—a hangar, going by the jet parked next to it—and yet a third building under construction, not far from the main one.
In moments she found herself in the hallway. This time, a woman with long, curly brunette hair emerged, carrying a clipboard. She wore a lab coat, and Daria realized she was a doctor. The woman was taking care of the sexy stranger. The doctor passed by, not having seen Daria at all.
Daria drifted into the room, her attention immediately focused on the tall figure in the bed. Knowing time was short, she moved forward, to his side.
Tentatively, she reached out and gently touched the face of the handsome blond man. Watched as he opened his gorgeous, crystal blue eyes—eyes that widened as he saw her astral form hovering by his bed. He might not hear her, or understand. But she had to try.
“Please, help me.”
Two
Holy shit, his entire body hurt like hell.
Caught between exhaustion and the inability to sleep, Ryon tried hard not to squirm in his hospital bed. Nothing was more miserable than being injured, overtired, and insomniac, and every small movement he made caused waves of pain to throb in every muscle and limb.
Beside his bed, Dr. Mackenzie Grant, or “Mac” as most of the guys called her, was checking his chart and making thoughtful humming noises to herself. Whether her opinion on his progress was good or bad, he couldn’t tell. Uncomfortable, he tried to move up on the pillows a bit and was rewarded with a sharp stab of agony in his side.
“Here, let me help you,” Mac said, moving quickly.
Cutting the doc his most pleading look, he cleared his sore throat as best he could. “Pain meds,” he rasped. That fucking vamp had really done a number on his windpipe. “Can’t sleep.”
She gazed at him in sympathy, touching his arm. “I know, sweetie. But you’ve got another hour before your next dose, so hang in there, okay?” He nodded. “Do you think you can shift yet? That would help speed the healing process.”
Concentrating, he called to his wolf. But the creature whined and curled into a firm ball inside him, hurting and still more than a little freaked out by the vampire attack. Carefully, he shook his head. “The silver, from the knife . . .”
“It was inside you too long,” she finished with a sigh. “Getting you well will take some time, but thankfully you’ve got plenty of that. Try to rest and I’ll send Noah in an hour to give you more medicine for the pain. Try to rest, okay?”
“Sure.” As if that would happen.
Disappointed, he watched her leave the room and resigned himself to a long day of excruciating boredom, not to mention aches and pains. He couldn’t concentrate to read and didn’t feel like watching TV. How he was going to keep from losing his damned mind, he didn’t have a clue.
He’d just closed his eyes when a sense of someone—or rather something—approaching flooded his awareness. A spirit? Or a flesh-and-blood person? He only knew he felt a tug that was familiar somehow, and it took him a moment to think why.
This was the same tug he’d experienced last night, in the aftermath of the attack. Lying there in the dirty alley, bleeding out, he’d seen the most beautiful ghost hovering over him. As such, he shouldn’t have been able to tell the color of her eyes, but they were a warm brown that soothed him. Promised him refuge. Her hair was long and shiny, the deepest black, her cheekbones high and almost sharp, her nose thin. Full, sensual lips just made for kissing.
Through his agony he’d noted her features in an instant, and now he mulled over the fact that he’d never had a spirit appear to him quite so intact, so detailed. Almost as though she were real, not a ghost. Impossible. Right?
Opening his eyes, he sucked in a sharp breath. It seemed he’d get another chance to find out, because the woman in question was standing beside his bed looking down at him anxiously. Her form was translucent, flickering as though her energy was waning.
“Please, help me.”
“Jesus!” Reacting, he jerked upright and then hissed in pain. “What the hell?”
Ghosts shouldn’t be able to speak and make themselves understood so clearly. But this one wasn’t having any problem in that area.
“Help me,” she entreated again. “I’m hurt and there isn’t much time.”
He blinked at her. “How do you think I can help you? You’re dead, sweetheart,” he said, his tone firm but gentle. Most of the spirits couldn’t accept their demise.
“No, I’m alive! I was working a few miles from here and I was pushed into a ravine.” She began to appear more desperate. “If you don’t find me, I’ll die out here. You have to believe me.”
A chill snaked down his spine. Maybe she was telling the truth. “Okay, honey. Tell me where you are and I’ll come to you.” He hoped.
“North. Past the second ridge.” She began to fade.
“Wait! That’s a lot of miles to cover. Can you be more specific?”
Her reply was broken, the sound going mute at intervals. “The rangers . . . checkpoint . . . camp.”
“You were camping? What was that about the rangers?”
“Hurts,” she whispered. “Hurry.”
And then she was gone.
“Fuck!”
Ryon stared for a few seconds at the spot where she’d been, wondering if she’d reappear. But the very real urgency in her plea got him moving. Despite the pain it caused, he scooted to the side of the bed, removing the sticky heart-monitor pads and ripping out his IV line. The back of his hand bled, and he licked the wound, sealing it, then pushed to his feet.
Sucking in a sharp breath, he braced a hand on the bedside table and held his injured side with the other. Ten minutes ago he wouldn’t have been able to get out of bed. But that was before an intriguing spirit had appeared at his side to beg for help—and his wolf had come roaring to life inside him. Now his constant companion was anxious, insisting they race to help this unknown woman.
Ryon struggled to control the shift. Apparently, hiding and licking his wounds like a big baby was no longer on the wolf’s agenda. The creature was practically clawing him apart from the inside out in his hurry to be gone. He had something much more important to focus on now, and he wasn’t going to let anything keep him from finding the gorgeous vision.
Ryon had to alert his team. Pushing out the door, he stumbled into the corridor of the infirmary and ran straight into Noah. The blond nurse grabbed and steadied him, fussing.
“What the heck are you doing out of bed? If you need something, use the call button!”
“No time,” he said hoarsely. “Gotta find Nick. We’ve got a problem.”
Scowling, the younger man steered Ryon back into the room. “Sit your butt down in here while I get hold of him, or you’re going to be the one with the problem when I sedate your stubborn self.”
Ryon complied, but he didn’t have to like it. Until he let his wolf out, he wasn’t going to have the strength to walk across the compound, much less run through the mountains searching for an injured hiker. He listened impatiently while Noah used the room’s phone and made the call to Nick. As he did, it occurred to Ryon that he wasn’t thinking straight—he could’ve simply used his ability as a Telepath to reach Nick himself, pushing his thoughts into his commander’s head. If that wasn’t proof that he had no business leaping from bed to run through the Shoshone, nothing was.
But that wasn’t going to stop him.
Noah replaced the receiver and turned, grabbing the discarded wires from the heart monitor. “He’s on his way. Scoot back and I’ll fix this.”
“No. I’m not staying here.”
“Ryon—”
“I said no!”
“Fine! Stubborn furballs, all of you.” The nurse stomped out, leaving the door open behind him.
&
nbsp; Ryon felt bad for snapping, but anxiety was riding him hard. He needed to be gone, like five minutes ago. Dammit, he’d apologize later.
Nick walked in a couple of minutes after Noah left, his expression concerned. The Pack’s commander was a big SOB who put off a don’t fuck with me vibe that was best heeded. Oh, Nick was a good guy, but more than a little intimidating.
The commander pushed a hand through his dark hair, his eyes piercing Ryon’s. “I knew a big change was coming for you. I just didn’t expect it to arrive so soon.”
The hair on the back of Ryon’s neck stood up. In addition to being a rare white wolf—born, not made—the commander was a PreCog, which meant he could sometimes see events before they happened. Or get a sense of something important on the horizon. As much as Ryon hated his own gift, he wouldn’t trade with Nick for anything. Some people might think being able to see the future would be cool, but Ryon thought it would totally suck to know the bad stuff.
“What did you see?” he asked in curiosity. And with a bit of dread as well.
“A woman,” Nick said simply, with a bit of reluctance. “And the fact that she’s going to shake up your world pretty thoroughly.”
Oh, crap. “How so?”
“You’ll just have to find out for yourself. But for that to happen, we’ll have to get going.” The man cocked his head. “Did she appear to you?”
Evasive bastard. “Yes, and she’s hurt. She didn’t say her name, but she told me she was pushed into a ravine past the second ridge, to the north.”
“Pushed? By whom?”
“I don’t know. She tried to say something about the rangers and a checkpoint, but the message was garbled at the end.”
“Okay. I’ll go by my office on the way out and give the ranger station a call while you grab a few of the guys.” He eyed Ryon. “That is, if you’re healed enough to go.”
“I will be after I shift,” he insisted. “My wolf is going nuts and if I stay behind, it won’t be pretty.”
