Cam's Fortune

by Odessa Lynne

A gust of wind whipped the rain into his face with stinging force. Thunder rumbled faintly in the distance.

  “Shit.” He looked behind him, into the darkness that hid the cave entrance. He could stay put and wait it out, but what if that wolf discovered the cave?

  No, he had to keep going.

  Ava would start worrying if he didn’t contact her, but Jay’s ambush had left Cam without his phone, his gun or any of his knives; Cam had checked the building where he’d waited for Trevor before he’d left the water recycling plant and headed into the woods to look for his horse. His multi-tool had been on one of the rusted metal shelves inside the building, overlooked, because Cam had used it to set up the small solar generator he’d brought with him so he’d have some light inside.

  Until Jay had shown up, he’d been half-convinced Trevor had sought him out to pick up where they’d left off. They’d been fucking for months before the incident that had destroyed Cam’s plans. Then Jay had fed him that story about Trevor being out for blood so he could take over the renegade operations in the southeast.

  In hindsight, Cam had been stupid to believe anything Jay had said, but he’d been pissed about letting Trevor compromise his location just because he’d harbored a soft spot for Trevor after all the time they’d spent in bed together.

  Trevor had been a great fuck.

  An hour later, Cam broke through a thick stand of pine trees about twenty feet in from the top of another ridge and had the wind knocked out of him by a sudden fiery pressure in his left shoulder.

  A gunshot ricocheted through the trees. He dropped to the grass on his knees, water splattering up around him, his heart thundering louder in his head than the rumbling in the sky.

  Another shot fired. It hit him in the outer thigh and burned a hole all the way through.

  Cam rolled, scrambled to his feet, and ran.

  He plowed through the trees and hit the edge of the ridge just as another shot rang out. He jerked, a white hot fire searing his right side. His feet slipped on the downward slope and nothing could have stopped his skid down the steep incline. Pine needles gave way underfoot and branches snapped, and nothing he grabbed held long enough to stop his fall.

  He slammed into the trunk of a tall pine about halfway down with a bone jarring impact. It took him three seconds to roll over and try to get his feet under him, and that was two seconds too long.

  Another shot fired, sending bark from the tree splintering over his shoulder.

  Who the hell was shooting at him?

  Cam hauled his ass around the tree then flinched as another bullet tore into the bark at the side of the trunk closest to his left shoulder. He tried to keep his head down, but he needed to see where the shots were coming from. One shooter or two? What direction?

  The driving rain and darkness obscured his view and he couldn’t see more than five feet in front of him even with his multi-tool’s flashlight.

  Fucking ridiculous. He swiped water off his face and slammed his back up against the tree, breathing hard.

  His thigh burned, throbbing painfully, but he still had use of his leg, so his injuries couldn’t be that bad. His side hurt, his ribs—the shooter was either a bad shot or he hadn’t been aiming to kill.

  Cam would bet money on the first; he wouldn’t bet shit on the last.

  Another shot echoed sharply in the air and a bullet plowed into the tree on Cam’s other side.

  One thing he knew: whoever was shooting at him didn’t have anything to do with the ambush earlier. Cam had been at Jay’s mercy, out cold from one of those rifle butts to the face, but he’d been left alive.

  It wouldn’t make any sense for the man to come after him now.

  The shooting stopped and the rumble of thunder got louder. Rain pounded into the trees around him and the ground at his feet, and there was no way even Cam could hear anyone coming up on him.

  He had to move.

  But when he tried to push to his feet, his chest seized on him and he started coughing.

  He covered his mouth, but he already knew he was in trouble. He could taste blood on the back of his tongue with every harsh breath.

  The pine at his back jabbed into his spine. He should be in more pain if a bullet had gone into his back and nicked one of his lungs. No way he should be on his feet still, if he could call sitting on his ass up against a tree being on his feet.

  He was numb from the cold; maybe he was in shock.

  A shadow approached from the left, hardly noticeable in the driving rain.

  “I saw you coming through on that horse earlier,” a heavy voice said from a distance, not too loud.

  Limbs thwacked as someone pushed his way through the pines next to Cam. A stout shadow came to a stop in front of Cam, rifle aimed at Cam’s chest, flashlight nearly blinding him.

  “Now here you are sneaking around my farm. I’m sorry man, but it’s a shoot first ask questions later kind of world these days. You want food, you pay for it, same as everybody else.”

  Cam looked up and realized he wasn’t reacting at a normal speed.

  He heard the sound of the guy reloading his rifle.

  “I can either put another bullet in you, or I can make things a little easier with a knife. Your choice.”

  Cam coughed again, his chest a tightly blooming knot of fire. He was feeling it now. Son of a—

  “Knife,” he coughed out.

  “Ah,” the man said. The end of the rifle lowered and something rustled in the dark. “I’ll make it quick, I promise.”

  The guy sounded fifteen, maybe twenty, twenty-five years older than Cam. Cam wasn’t sure.

  How much different did a fifty year old sound from someone twenty-five?

  “You try anything and I’ll leave you for the dogs to finish off.” The man stepped closer, and a knife blade glinted in the glow of the flashlight.

  The guy was an idiot.

  The man leaned down next to Cam, grabbing Cam by the hair on his head. His arm moved, like he was getting ready to slash deep against Cam’s throat.

  With one quick move, Cam took the knife from the guy and turned it on him, pressing the six inch blade good and tight to the crease of the man’s thigh. “You’ll bleed out before you get help. Drop the rifle.”

  The taste of blood was still there, thick and metallic. Cam started coughing again, and when the guy tensed like he was about to move, Cam locked his elbow around the back of the guy’s knee and jabbed the knife in tighter. “I’ll kill you, don’t think I won’t.”

  “Okay, okay.” The rifle shifted and then lowered.

  “Don’t go for your other knife.”

  The man stilled momentarily and then resumed lowering the rifle.

  Rain hammered down on Cam’s head, pouring along the ends of his hair and stinging his eyes. He had to fight the urge to close them.

  He could feel the flex of the guy’s leg muscle against his arm. The man might be older, but he was stout and thick and he’d be a bruiser in a fight. “You move, and I slice, got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “That femoral artery won’t give you much of a chance if I nick—” Another cough interrupted him. Cam had to press his forehead against the man’s thigh.

  When he stopped coughing, he didn’t bother finishing his threat. Too much talking was making his chest hurt worse. Cam slowly released the man’s leg but didn’t ease the pressure of the knife.

  The man stayed put. Cam used his free hand to scoot the rifle closer. The movement was awkward, while rain poured off both of them. A bright flash lit up the night sky and the guy wasn’t the only one who jerked at the sudden brightness.

  “I’ll leave you alone if you just let me go,” the guy said, his voice tight with nerves.

  The lightning had obviously spooked him.

  Or maybe it was the shadow at the edge of a pine about ten feet to Cam’s left that had done it.

  Even Cam’s breath seemed harder to control after that sight.

  He knew what he’d se
en, he just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

  “Wasn’t planning to hurt you,” Cam said. “You really think—” A cough interrupted him again. His hand shook, but he didn’t let go of the knife. He gasped for a deeper breath, but his lungs didn’t cooperate. Blood coated his tongue. He had no idea if he was dying, but he probably should be, coughing up blood the way he was. “You really think shoot first, ask questions later is the right way to live?”

  Cam focused on getting a better grip on the rifle while not allowing the knife’s pressure against the man’s groin to ease. It was more difficult than he’d imagined it in his head, and he slipped up.

  The guy took advantage. He grabbed for Cam’s hand, twisting the knife hard.

  Cam slammed the rifle into the guy’s thigh and then pulled back and slammed it into the side of his head.

  Too late.

  The knife turned, sliding right between Cam’s ribs. He gasped.

  The shadow solidified next to him, and with a roar, the wolf attacked.

  Chapter 3

  Cam wasn’t sure what happened next or why, but instead of ending up impaled on a set of sharp claws, he was blinking water out of his eyes and staring up at a wolf with glowing eyes. Lightning flashed again and the wolf’s head turned for a brief moment, tracking the direction of the storm and letting Cam see a wide gash that split the skin across the wolf’s temple and cheek.

  Cam used a shaking hand to push his wet hair out of his face and he coughed a few more times. The taste of blood intensified.

  He started to wrap his hand around the knife sticking out of his ribs. Just touching the protruding handle made his throat close up on him. If he moved, he would either pass out or vomit, he was sure of it.

  “Don’t touch it,” the wolf said. He dropped to his knees in front of Cam and pushed hard against Cam’s shoulder. Cam leaned back into the tree with a harsh groan. He turned his head away from the sight of the wolf studying the knife.

  A body sprawled out on the ground a few feet away and Cam was glad the pounding rain and darkness hid everything but the shadow.

  Cam didn’t like that the man had had to die, but he didn’t feel a lot of guilt about it. Shoot first, ask questions later people weren’t the kind of people Cam was interested in saving. What if it had been Ava or one of the boys riding through?

  Cam struggled to speak. “Why’d you try to . . . save me?”

  “I did save you.”

  “Not ye—”

  The knife pulled free and Cam gasped out a strangled yell. The wolf pressed a hand hard against Cam’s rib.

  Cam gritted his teeth and fought the black at the edges of his vision.

  He lost.

  When he came to, he wasn’t sure where he was.

  Something soft under him.

  A damp, musty smell in his nostrils, and the smell of blood somewhere close.

  He blinked a few times, tried to sit up, but a hand landed heavy on his shoulder.

  “Don’t move. You’re not healing quickly.”

  Cam groaned and fell back against the mattress. He was in a small room, lit by the faint glow of a cluster of ceiling lights, obviously dimmed either by the controls or a reduced power flow from a subpar solar generator.

  Cam fought the urge to cough. He tried to roll over, but the wolf wouldn’t let him move. Cam stared at the ceiling for a moment, trying to parse what the wolf had said.

  “I feel like I’m dying,” Cam said.

  “You won’t die. Not from these injuries.”

  “How do you know? You have medical training?”

  “If you were going to die, you’d already be dead from your injuries. They were severe enough to kill you.”

  Thunder rumbled in the distance and rain pattered against the window, nothing like the furious pounding of earlier when he’d been out in it.

  How much time had passed? How far away from his previous location had this wolf carried him?

  Cam fought his frown. Better not to give away his confusion. “How?”

  “It’s possible you have a human adapted version of some of our technology inside you. This would account for your ability to survive the injuries you received.” The wolf pointed to the gash on the side of his face. “Much like I survived my injuries when I followed you over the waterfall.”

  Cam winced. He remembered seeing that gash in a flash of lightning. It was a deep, jagged cut, bloody and long, and under the warm glow from the ceiling lights, he could see that it was a much larger injury than it had appeared in the dark.

  He met the wolf’s gaze as his pulse began to flutter at his throat. “Explain. What kind of technology? How did I get it?”

  The wolf watched him closely. “It’s technology that will help you heal more efficiently. Matthew passed the technology to another man through sex. It’s probable he did the same with you. Matthew admits you had an active sexual relationship.”

  If Cam hadn’t been in so much pain, he would have shouted to the sky. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  He’d been looking for a way to get his hands on some of the wolves’ healing technology for the last year, and now it was possible he’d had it since he and Trevor had started fucking. Son of a bitch.

  He fisted his hands and tried again to push upright on the bed.

  The wolf stood and leaned over him, both hands taking Cam’s shoulders and forcibly holding him to the mattress. “Submit, or I’ll bind you to the bed.”

  “Shit,” Cam said. “You don’t understand. Am I contagious? Can I pass it on?”

  “It’s probable.”

  “How?”

  “You need to rest. Healing takes a lot of energy. You don’t have any to spare.”

  “I have plenty,” Cam said, as forcefully as he could manage. Not very forceful at all, it turned out, as pain fired along his nerves, drawing out a cold sweat.

  The wolf’s nostrils flared. He stepped back quickly, shaking his head. “Don’t get up.”

  The wolf left the room, just like that, pulling the door closed firmly behind him.

  It took Cam a few moments before his thoughts coalesced into anything resembling intelligence, and then—

  “Oh fuck,” he muttered. He tilted his head, trying to take a sniff of himself, but all he smelled was blood, wet clothes, and the musty scent of the room.

  He needed a moment after that to catch his breath.

  He understood enough about the wolves to know that his scent and that wolf’s heat was going to mean trouble—serious trouble—for him in a hell of a lot less time than he needed.

  Maybe he should try to—but no, he could hardly breathe when he moved and the taste of blood still coated the back of his tongue. That wasn’t good.

  He looked around the room. Bland, shadowed walls, a four-poster bed from a different era, a door that probably led to an attached bathroom and another that might be a closet. A small control panel beside the door that would control the lights and temperature and probably the solar window across the room too. Rain droplets splattered against the glass with every gust of wind.

  He shivered as a chill raced through him. Another followed within a few seconds, and then another.

  He needed to get these wet clothes off and he wasn’t willing to wait on that wolf to come back and help him get started. His smell would probably be more pronounced if he did strip out of his clothes, but he knew enough about the wolves to know he was fucked anyway.

  The wet denim wanted to stick to his clammy skin, and it took him too damn long just to get it halfway down his thighs.

  “Ah,” he gritted out as his knuckles slipped a little too close to the hole in his thigh. But no, more like a deep groove he realized with a careful look to the side. The skin around the injury burned like a son of a bitch but his thigh hadn’t been shot through.

  The door opened suddenly and Cam jerked, his grip on his jeans tightening unintentionally, causing the fabric to scrape across the painful groove.

  “Shit,” he said with a
great deal of feeling.

  The wolf stepped inside, and then immediately stopped at the door. “What are you doing?”

  “Not so attractive now, huh?” Cam said, absolutely sure he shouldn’t be joking about the situation he had found himself in. His wet boxers weren’t hiding anything from the wolf’s view, not that there was much to hide at the moment. He shivered again.

  The wolf didn’t seem to notice. His eyes had fixated somewhere below Cam’s waist, right where Cam didn’t want them.

  “Help me out of these wet clothes.”

  The wolf’s response took so long Cam had begun to wonder if he was going to respond at all. The wolf shook his head. “I can’t.”

  “Fuck that. Get over here.” Cam took a shaky breath and jerked at the wet denim. “I can’t do this by myself.”

  He’d thought he could when he started it, but he’d exhausted himself already.

  “I can’t,” the wolf said again, his accent thickened and his words slow.

  Cam clenched his jaw. “You want to mate, don’t you?”

  “The only thing stopping me from claiming you to mate this very moment is the concern I have for your injuries. Soon even that won’t control my heat. I have no drugs.”

  Cam wanted to curse, long and loud, but he just didn’t have the energy. The wolves had created repression drugs to help control their heat that very first heat season after making Earth their new home. The drugs weren’t perfect, not even close, but they worked some of the time, and that was better than the alternative. The alternative was a lust craze that stripped away every bit of control the wolves had over their urge to mate.

  Having no drugs meant this wolf would eventually succumb to the lure of Cam’s human scent whether he wanted to or not.

  Fucked, that was a good way to put it.

  “You want to mate, then get me the hell out of these clothes. I need time to heal if you’re going to try to fuck me—we both know you will, don’t deny it—but I—” He wasn’t able to finish. A hacking cough interrupted him. Pain exploded bright and hot in his chest and he had to draw his arms in tight to keep from passing out.

  Or maybe he passed out anyway. He blinked up at the wolf staring down at him and he was sure he hadn’t been that close a moment ago.