by Autumn Dawn
TEASING DANGER
by
AUTUMN DAWN
(c) copyright August 2002, Autumn Beadreault
Cover art by Eliza Black, (c) 2002
New Concepts Publishing
www.newconceptspublishing.com
4729 Humphreys Rd.
Lake Park, GA 31636
Chapter 1
“Wait a minute, Lemming! Let me catch my breath,” Jasmine gasped, clutching a slender poplar for balance and causing a shower of bright leaves and water to pepper her head and shoulders. For a moment, her vision blurred and her legs trembled, but she stiffened them, waiting it out. It was the painful tightness in her chest that was more difficult to ease.
Used to such stops, the black and white border collie trotted over to her, tail wagging, and sat gracefully at her feet. Deciding a rest was in order, Jasmine inspected a large rock that had been washed free of the hill’s sticky clay, looking for ants. Satisfied, she shifted the holstered pistol on her hip and sat down gingerly on the lichen covered stone to take in the view.
Densely wooded Alaskan hills rolled away in the distance without a sign of civilization. Autumn had hung her golden coins from every birch and cottonwood as far as the eye could see, and the gold water wash of late evening sunlight showed them to their best advantage. Even the dark spruce covering the gentle slopes were sprinkled with the natural glitter.
She glanced at her watch, her breath frosting in the chill air; 7:44 P.M.. It would start getting dark soon, and this late in September, it could snow at any time. Too bad it wasn’t June. If it were then she wouldn’t have to worry about the darkness at all, since the sun never set during the height of summer.
She stood and hefted her pack, her lungs giving a tired protest. Once again she cursed the fact that asthma medication made her heart race and her hands and feet go numb. She could use a dose of something right now. At least it was only exercise induced asthma, she thought, trying to pick up her flagging spirits. All she really needed was a little rest to catch her breath. Besides, she could have been born allergic to chocolate. She glanced at Lemming affectionately. Or dogs.
Though come to think of it, if she’d been allergic to dogs, she wouldn’t have to be out here.
Rapidly losing steam, she trudged up the trail, really little more than a brushy track, noting the moose nuggets and hoof prints in the soft turf without enthusiasm. With her luck she’d run into an irate cow with a calf and get stuck in a Mexican standoff while the cow tried to decide if she was worth trampling or better off ignored. It really was a shame she didn’t have the energy to stop and pick some cranberries. They were plentiful this year and she could use a good batch of cranberry bars.
Heck, while she was dreaming, how about a hot date, an end cut of the Turtle Club’s prime rib and a dry pair of socks?
Or maybe she should be dreaming about a hot date for Wiley, she thought with disgust. She scanned the brush covered hillside. If her friend and roommate paid more attention to her love life then maybe she wouldn’t feel the need to run off to the woods at a moments notice, and she wouldn’t have to chase the girl all over the country.
Like now.
Lemming barked from somewhere up ahead, signaling that she’d found Wiley’s camp. Jasmine’s head came up and she eagerly picked up her pace. In a minute she’d be sipping hot cocoa and roasting herself in front of a hot fire, and—
She entered the mossy clearing where Lemming waited and stopped, confused.
The clearing was empty.
Later, as Jasmine sat nursing a cup of cocoa over a fire that she’d had to make herself, she tried to figure out what could have happened. At first she’d circled the area, calling Wiley’s name and trying to find some kind of evidence as to her disappearance. Most likely Wiley was playing a trick, maybe hiding higher on the hill and grinning as she watched her wade through stickers and brush. As soon as full dark descended though, Jasmine had known Wiley wasn’t playing a game. Something had happened to her friend, and it was too late to make her way back to the Jeep tonight to get help.
Wiley might take off at a moment’s notice on her perverse games of hide and seek, but she always left a map, and she never strayed from it. If she said she was going to be forty-five minutes east of the Dalton Highway that’s where they’d find her. Or rather, Lemming would find her, and Lemming always found her quarry.
She glanced at the search and rescue dog Wiley had trained from a pup. She rested quietly at Jasmine’s side with her chin on her paws, content with a job well done. Jasmine had tried to get her to keep tracking, but she’d only sat down, looked at Jasmine in confusion, and thumped her tail once. As far as she was concerned, her job was over.
She sighed and scratched an itch under her black Road Runner stocking cap. She noticed a sticker bush twig in Lemming’s fur, removed it gingerly and flicked it into the coals. So now what? She didn’t plan to stay in grizzly and wolf infested woods any longer then she had to. Civilization beckoned. She coughed as smoke suddenly blew into her face and moved around the fire, wishing ruefully for some smokeless heat.
Well, there was nothing more she could do right now, and she was tired of having the fire roast her front end while the cold air behind froze her butt. Time to crawl into her tent, shuck down to her long johns and hope she wouldn’t have to shiver too long before the down sleeping bag warmed up. Though come to think of it, the night almost seemed to be getting warmer.
Scoffing at her wishful thinking, she stood and kicked dirt over the fire. That’s when she saw them.
Eyes.
Freaky, glowing golden eyes. Lots of them.
Lemming growled and pressed so tightly against her that she nearly tripped as the eyes evolved into wolves with eerie, alien faces.
Slowly she reached for the 357 Smith and Wesson revolver strapped to her hip. The fur on the creature directly in front of her hackled and it snarled a warning that made the hair all over her own body stand on end. Lemming responded with a vicious snarl/bark that made her jump.
“Touch it and they’ll rip your throat out,” a man’s voice warned mildly from the dark on the other side of the clearing.
Jasmine strangled a yell and whipped her head to the side. “Who’s there?”
As if in a nightmare, a sinister shadow of a man stepped away from the camouflage of the dark trees and stood less than ten feet from her. She itched to draw and cock the gun, but the slight movement of her hand brought the snarling beast before her a step closer.
“Call off your dogs,” she demanded hoarsely. All the moisture that should have been in her mouth seemed to have decided to run down her back instead. Who’d turned up the heat?
“Give up your weapon,” the stranger ordered, and his words were brushed with an odd accent. “They don’t trust you.”
She tensed. “The feeling is mutual, pal, but I’m not doing it. They’ll eat me alive if I do.” She’d watched TV. She knew what happened to the idiots that dropped the gun.
He glanced at the creatures. “Your choice.”
Long moments passed while she held the gaze that must be trained on her from that shadowy face and sweat plastered the hair under her hat to her scalp. For all she knew this guy had kidnapped Wiley and was keeping her somewhere nearby.
If she was still alive.
It was that thought more than anything that made her give in. Swearing one of Wiley’s favorite words, she gave a curt nod. Careful not to make any sudden moves that might set off the terrified dog at her feet or the wolves, she unfastened the safety strap of the holster and eased the gun out. Surprisingly, she wasn’t snarled at until she hesitated at the last moment.
“You’ll never kill them all,” the stranger said with a trace of impatience.
Reluctantly
, she tossed down the gun, yanked off her hat and unzipped her heavy coat, shrugging it off. If she had to die, at least it wouldn’t be from the sudden heat. She glanced at the wolf things, but they were no longer snarling. In fact, the one she was coming to think of as the leader had backed off a bit and was watching her warily while the others wove in and out of the huge trees.
Huge trees?
Jasmine paused in the act of stripping off her Norwegian sweater, all the fine hairs on her body standing on end. Huge trees? There were no big trees in this part of Alaska. But there they were, gleaming in the light of the triple moons-what? Triple—!
First things first. Taking a deep breath to calm her jangling nerves, she sent the man a defiant look and pulled off the bulky sweater, tugging the black T-shirt underneath to keep it from riding up. She just stood there in the redwood scented air as half of her brain tried to make sense of the waving fern fronds while the other wished she could ditch her wool socks and the long underwear under her jeans.
The shadow shifted restlessly. “Come,” he said, melting into the trees before she had a chance to argue.
“Wait a minute!” she called, but he ignored her. She hesitated, wondering if she could possibly retrieve the small flashlight inside her jacket. No way did she want to go blindly charging off through the night with a spooky stranger without at least being able to see what he was doing. She bent a little, and the lead wolf snarled. “Easy, fella, I just need to get a light.” His lips pulled even farther back and saliva flecked his muzzle. The other wolf things, taking their cue from the pack master, stalked in closer, showing hundreds of teeth. Suddenly stumbling through the darkness following a possibly vicious stranger held appeal. She picked up her feet and hurried after the man before she found out if the pack had a taste for twenty-three year old, sweaty hikers.
Besides, who knew what else might come creeping out of the brush?
There might have been three moons in the sky, but none of them were full, and she’d never had the best night vision. The second time she nearly went sprawling while jogging after the Shadow, she decided to call a halt. If she didn’t slow down one of the branches hitting her in the face was going to put out an eye, and then where would she be? Besides, Lemming could always track him.
The wolf things had other ideas.
“Look, guy,” she tried to explain to one of the creatures that was inching slowly closer, growling, while Lemming nearly backed up to her leg. “I’m trying, but I can’t see where I’m going. Just give me a minute, okay?”
A hand shot out of the dark and gripped her upper arm, making her shriek.
“This way.”
She gasped for breath, trying to calm her frantic heart while the stranger hauled her through the woods. “Did you have to do that?” she demanded, but he didn’t answer and he didn’t slow down. She tried again. “Where are we going?” Still he didn’t answer. “You’re a real jerk, you know that?”
His grip on her arm tightened and he picked up speed. “I will return you to your place come morning.”
She dug in her heels and threw every ounce of her weight into it, jolting them to a stop. No way, pal. She didn’t know what he planned, but when a strange man without an ounce of courtesy told her he was going to keep her for the night, she panicked.
As he spun to face her, she shot her fist into his nose, snapping his head back and then grabbed his shirt and rammed her knee into his groin with all her strength.
Or tried to.
The next moment he was holding her on her toes with two frighteningly controlled hands around her biceps.
His voice, when it came, was rough with menace. “You think to deny me anything?” His body was very tense, as if he longed to either choke the life from her or hurl her from him. Even so, she tried to kick him. Swearing, he shook her, making Lemming snarl. The stranger snapped something in a language she didn’t know and Lemming subsided with a whine.
His eyes bore into hers. “You are fortunate that you are a woman, else I would snap your neck and have done with it.” As suddenly as he’d grabbed her, he released her, and she lost her balance, falling on her butt. “You are going back come morning.”
Jasmine trembled, not daring to move for a long, sick moment. Never before had she felt so threatened by a man, so completely aware of her inferior size and puny strength. He had her alone, completely at his mercy, and if he decided to hurt her there was nothing she could do to stop him.
Lemming whined and slid up to her, seeking reassurance, and in that seeking, gave Jasmine a measure of strength. She wasn’t a coward, and she was smart. There had to be a way out of this. Wiley needed her.
He was overreacting.
Keilor watched the female climb shakily to her feet, chiding himself. The girl was young and scared, barely even a woman by the looks of her; and he was a stranger who was deliberately frightening her. Of course she would lash out. As he watched the girl get up he reminded himself that his cousin considered her a friend. He didn’t have to like it, but he could refrain from terrorizing her.
He wiped the blood from his battered nose and his anger flared again. Blight that! He would if she would. Nevertheless, his touch was gentler and his pace slower as he guided her through the darkness. Remorse stabbed him when she shrank a little at his touch and he ruthlessly repressed it. They didn’t want her to like it here, nor to feel welcome, no matter what Rihlia thought. She would come to see the wisdom of remaining separate from the human world soon enough. If he and Jayems had their way, the girl would be going back this instant. Only Rihlia’s need to reassure this girl that she was fine stayed their hands.
The memory of her stripping off her heavy clothes flashed through his mind and he sucked in a breath at the heat it provoked. She glanced at him in surprise and a little fear when his grip tightened on her arm. He forced it to relax. It was only the startling quickness of her disrobing that had caused his body to react, he reassured himself. He hadn’t expected the girl to start stripping. It hadn’t helped to discover that her outer wrappings had concealed an exotically beautiful woman—girl, he corrected himself firmly—girl underneath. It didn’t matter to him what she looked like, the girl was going back as soon as Rihlia said good-bye. It was time for his cousin to rediscover her real family.
He ducked to avoid a branch, thinking how fortunate they’d been to find the long lost Rihlia at one of the intermittent hot points between worlds. He shook his head in amazement. After years of fruitless searching, only to discover the child she’d been had crossed worlds! But now she was home and it was time for her to take her rightful place among her people and her family.
He glanced at the dark haired girl in irritation, the night no barrier to his keen vision. What Rihlia didn’t need was reminders of the past weighing her down while she tried to readjust to her home world. Even if they were sweetly curved and just the right height to—
“I cannot see what she could possibly want with you,” he burst out in frustration.
The girl’s head snapped up and she stopped. “She? Are you talking about Wiley?”
“Her name is Rihlia,” he corrected stiffly, stopping as well. He was annoyed at his outburst. It wasn’t like him to be this edgy around a woman, even a beautiful woman; especially a beautiful woman, and he didn’t like it.
“She’s my age, very dark hair, oriental looking?”
“I know who she is,” he clipped out, “And her name is Rihlia.”
Her eyes snapped fire as she jerked her arm away from him, fear apparently forgotten. Really, for such a midgety creature, she was full of passion. Had she been anyone else, he would have relished that knowledge; but she wasn’t staying.
“Her name is Wiley, you misbegotten—” she broke off and took a deep breath. “I need to see her.”
“Then come.” He took her arm again and set off. The sooner this chore was accomplished, the better. He had more important matters to attend to.
Apparently she wasn’t content to travel in s
ilence, for she said, “What is this place?”
“The Dark Lands,” he answered shortly, hoping she’d be quiet. He glanced off into the trees, toying with the idea of having the volti show themselves again and frighten her speechless, but refrained.
“Why is it called that?”
“To frighten off unwanted humans?” he suggested with exasperation. Were all humans this bothersome, or was it just her? She tripped over a plainly visible rock in the path and swore, forcing him to steady her yet again. He added clumsy and unobservant to the list of things he didn’t like about her.
“What do you mean, ‘humans’?” she asked suspiciously.
“What you are, and what I am not. What Rihlia is not,” he informed her with satisfaction. That ought help drive her off. Humans were notoriously fearful of anyone alien, even their own kind. She would be no different.
“Rih-Wiley is as human as I am,” she gritted out. “I ought to know. We were raised in the same orphanage.”
The remembrance of how his cousin had been kept in a sterile home for abandoned and orphaned children enraged him anew. “She was raised there, but she wasn’t born there,” he clipped out. “Your kind put her there.”
“Yeah? Well, she wouldn’t have been there if your kind hadn’t lost her,” she snapped back.
He grabbed her arms and jerked her to him, angry on such a deep level that he could barely verbalize his emotion. “You have no idea what you are saying, creature. Beware lest you test my mercy,” he warned her softly, almost relishing her trembling. She understood him.
Unfortunately, his flaring nose caught her feminine scent, bringing with it a desire that flooded his senses in an entirely alien way. For a moment his mind stalled, and the closest he could come to breaking away was to shift his hands down her arms a fraction. Spellbound, the only thing that he wanted in that moment was to let his body speak to her in a language entirely it’s own.
Lightning traveled up his arms from her frozen body and he let go with a gasp and a curse. “Sylph!” he hissed, gripping the hilt of his blade.
