by Jenna Kernan
“Much as I would like that, I must bring you.”
Had she really almost kissed him last night? She couldn’t believe her own stupidity. Frustration seethed within her and she lashed out.
“My dad needs help. He wants your mother to join us. I need to bring her his words.”
His voice fairly dripped with scorn. “Why would she join you?”
She lost it. “Because she’s a Skinwalker and because the Toe Taggers attacked my dad!”
At the phrase Toe Tagger, Alon’s face went stormy. He glared at her with such loathing that she drew up short. An instant later she recognized what she had said, and regret pooled in her belly. “I’m sorry, Alon.”
He headed for the door and she followed, matching his quick stride. “I forgot, Alon. I said I was sorry.”
He spun on the stairs. The muscles of his jaw bunched and his mouth tipped down at both corners, and still he was the handsomest man she had ever seen.
When he spoke, it was through gritted teeth. “Don’t forget. Don’t ever forget for a second what I am.”
He continued down the stairs at a lope.
“Alon, don’t you dare leave me here again.”
But he was already in the foyer and out the door.
Fine. The Thunderbirds might have dropped her here, but that didn’t mean she had to stay. Nicholas Chien was not the only one who knew how to track someone.
* * *
Samantha followed the long driveway that wound through the woods. She only had to find civilization to access her accounts and get the money needed to go anywhere she pleased. She’d consult with her mother just as soon as she got clear of this compound. A familiar scent reached her. She paused, debating between following Alon and getting clear of this place.
The hell with him, she decided and continued, stopping again when she found his clothing, folded and stashed in the crotch of a tree. His scent now became more difficult to trace. It hovered in the air, but she could not find it on the ground. Likely he had turned to smoke. She shook her head and returned to the road. Sooner or later that would lead her to people.
She’d try to stay out of any large communities. The bigger the population the more chance she’d see ghosts. She didn’t need one of Nagi’s spies finding her before she could find her family.
* * *
Aldara had found the trail of the Beta Pack last night and reported their whereabouts to Alon before returning to them while he continued to hunt for the Gammas. The ten sets of Beta twins were old enough to understand and obey the rules their parents set out for them. His parents had left him and his sister in charge of their siblings. That meant guarding against vigilante Skinwalkers and Nagi’s ghosts. His mother long suspected that Nagi used the evil ghosts to find his kind. Samantha’s arrival required that they notify the packs not to attack her. It had taken half the night, but he and Aldara had finally located both the Deltas’ and Gammas’ trails. She’d taken the Gammas.
That left him the Delta Pack, youngest and most difficult. They still struggled with control. They had no natural enemies, so the concept of danger was as foreign to them as it was to a shark. Six twins all under two, feral and deadly as loaded weapons. The Delta Pack could not yet reason, could barely speak and were ruled by a voracious appetite that made it dangerous even for him to seek them out. He didn’t know if he could make them understand that Samantha was not here to kill them. But he had to try. Damn her for coming here. His parents had drilled into his and his sister’s heads that Skinwalkers were dangerous, especially if they traveled in packs. They’d known for years that vigilantes had been hunting the newborns. It was a miracle he didn’t kill Samantha the instant he recognized her for what she was, Skinwalker, hunter, killer of infants. Only she wasn’t like them any more than he was like Nagi’s Ghostlings.
The sooner he got her out of here the better. But he couldn’t leave the others unguarded. He needed to take the Beta, Gamma and Delta packs to the only mother they’d ever known while keeping them from killing Samantha. It seemed impossible.
The Delta Pack knew to stay away from the house and somehow recognized their parents as other than food. But would the house protect Samantha once they scented her? He didn’t know.
He had to hurry.
His mother’s information had been right. Since his parents’ departure, some ten days ago, Aldara had seen evil ghosts drifting in the woods. If they had not located any of the three packs yet, it was only a matter of time. He and Aldara were in a battle against Nagi’s lust for his children to join his cause.
Something moved behind him. He changed to his fighting form and reversed course. Was it a vigilante? Was it one of Nagi’s Ghost Children? Was this the day that Nagi’s vanguard found their hiding place?
Alon did not get far before he scented Samantha. Damn her for not staying put. He wheeled and followed her trail.
He should have explained the danger. He had not, for to do so was to reveal completely what he had been. Still was. Always would be.
He’d been too weak to let her see his true self, and now she was here. He scented the air to assure himself that the Gamma and Delta packs were not near. When he closed on her position, he shifted from his flying form, moving swiftly to one of the many caches of clothing he had about these woods. In a few moments he wore the damp gray sweater and black jeans.
Then he changed course again, running to intercept her and bring her back to the house. The fear for her safety bolted through him like a thunderstorm. He had always felt protective of his family and responsible for the actions of the others. But this was something new, because until this minute he had never been afraid.
Samantha made him afraid.
Why should he care?
He didn’t understand it. But since the moment she had appeared from that storm, she had consumed him. He craved contact of her flesh to his and longed for that trembling emotion that he felt vibrate through her each time he pressed his body to hers. She knew what he was, but she could not know what he was capable of. If she did, she never would have stayed the night.
Somehow he had kept away. But each time he saw her, the urge to have her grew stronger. He wanted to devour her. Taste her skin on his tongue and feel his body joining with hers.
Samantha exposed his weakness and his corporal need.
Anticipation and worry beat in his chest. He would find her, ensure her safety and then...Alon’s speed quickened.
He found her a moment later hurrying along the footpath his Alphas used to run their territory. The trail ran parallel to the curving drive that led to the highway.
“What are you doing here?”
Samantha startled. The thick rope braid swung over her shoulder and settled between her breasts. Today she was dressed for the woods in a scooped-neck shirt and light fleece vest that hugged her bosom. His skin itched as he looked at the generous curve of her hips emphasized by her tight jeans.
“I...I...”
“Go back.”
She recovered quickly. Color still flooded her pretty face, but now she was scowling at him. It didn’t help. He still wanted her. His attention fixed on her raspberry-colored lips. What would it feel like to brush his mouth to hers, press her soft curves to his hard ones and meld together like hot metal?
“You are not my keeper.” She managed the words with just the right amount of indignation.
“Obviously, or I would have locked you up.”
She gasped at that. He smiled, picturing her locked in the bedroom he once occupied, waiting for him there in that short little cotton nightie.
He moved closer. The lecture he had given himself, the knowledge that his very presence here endangered her, was not enough to stop him. Not enough to drown out the roar of need she roused in him.
He captured her easily, so easily that if he did not know better he would almost guess that she came here only for this.
Then he recalled that she had never seen his fighting form. He should show her now. No. He nev
er would.
Samantha would know only the handsome, virile form that drew human females like nectar draws bees. She would know only the lie. He could take her if he wanted, and she’d let him unless she discovered what he was inside. Then she’d run screaming. He drew her closer.
Someday she’d realize what he was. Then he’d let her go. But for now he was just selfish enough to take what she offered—consequences be damned.
Chapter 7
Alon tilted his head. Samantha gazed up at him, her eyes half-closed as if she were caught on the edge of a dream. Her lips parted and she lifted her chin, as the appeal of his third form drew her to him, making her eager now for what he would give her.
He couldn’t. Taking a woman would cause the cycle to begin again. If his kind reproduced, the Living World would never be rid of them. Alon’s convictions collided hard with his desires.
She brought a hand to his cheek, and his craving for this woman drowned all his high-minded philosophy and notions of selfless sacrifice. His desire pounded and poured like floodwaters, sweeping away all objections.
She was his woman. He needed her and she was willing. That was enough.
Samantha made no objections. Was the attraction so all-consuming that she could not think at all?
She was on her toes now, and her arms encircled his neck as if she were capturing him.
Their mouths met, firm, eager, greedy.
Alon deepened the kiss, holding the little Skinwalker tight to his body. Did she know she played with fire?
Strong emotions brought the change. With the thinning of his control the demon inside took over. He feared that side and still he let her kiss him deep and hard, their tongues stroking and sparing.
He relished each small quavering sound of need that now emanated from her throat. She tightened her arms about his neck, trying to hold him. If she knew what was inside him she’d be fighting for escape.
Alon threaded his fingers in her thick dark hair, cradling her head, controlling her in a way that both thrilled and terrified. Her lips were velvet and her mouth hot and wet. He thought of that sweet mouth, that strong tongue working on another part of him, and his body hardened with need. Here was a woman who wanted him and whom he wanted. And one strong enough to take all he would give her. A Skinwalker. A great grizzly bear.
He growled as his skin tingled, signaling the beginning of his change. She’d made a mistake letting him touch her, because now he was never going to let her go.
She made another sound that might have been alarm, and he feared she would draw back. No, he wouldn’t let her. But she didn’t. Instead, she delved her fingers into his hair, tucking herself beneath his arm, lifting a warm thigh to his hip and using her heel to pull herself even closer to him.
He could take her beneath this very tree. He felt his nails extend and harden into the claws that were as vicious as knife blades. His mouth widened, stretching to accommodate the teeth poised to jut from his gums.
Alon tore away.
Samantha rocked forward, catching herself on the trunk of a tree on one extended arm, her expression momentarily dazed, her sweet pink mouth parted and her cheeks flushed with desire. He’d never forget that dreamy expression. He paused to drink her in, mouth open, panting and her lips swollen from his kisses. Before she could focus her eyes upon him, he shifted, soaring upward into the trees like the exhaust from a rocket. Just one more second and she would have seen him as he was born.
He’d been right to fear his control. A single kiss and he’d nearly let her see.
Alon dived and darted through the forest, surging away from Samantha as fast as he could.
Until today he’d shifted into his fighting form only when angry. But he’d been right to fear Samantha. His excitement for her was new, strong and dangerous.
He’d almost turned into his fighting form right in front of her. His monster form, that was more accurate. The form he could not bear to look at even himself. But it was a shape that was strong and deadly and thus far unmatched.
What would Samantha have done, he wondered, had she seen the rows of teeth snarling and snapping? Run? Scream? Turn away in disgust?
A fresh wave of shame broke inside him. He was born of the dead. He knew it was true. She’d been right to call his kind Toe Taggers, for it highlighted all he was in just two little words. Was he part of this Living World as his parents insisted, or was it as he feared—that he belonged to the world of ghosts?
He rocketed forward, fleeing, flying from the pretty little temptation. If she had any sense she would run in the opposite direction.
His willingness to compromise everything in which he believed in the heat of lust only proved that he had been right. Since he was old enough to understand what he was and where he had come from, he had known that he was a threat to the Balance, to everything good and pure in this living world. He knew it, felt it in his beating heart. And he had nearly hurt the only good thing that had ever come his way. He did not belong in this living world. He belonged with the dead and the evil and the dark.
Would she forgive him?
If he had any pity, any shred of humanity, he would leave her behind and never return. As he flew from her, he pictured her in his mind, the pretty dark brown hair caught in a long ropelike braid, healthy skin the color of a walnut shell. He found her full lips enticing. Her eyes were cinnamon brown with golden flecks near the iris, and the corners of her lids sloped upward, slightly giving her a smoldering look that kicked him in the stomach whenever she stared at him. He liked that and he liked her curvy shape and full breasts. What would she look like naked?
He recalled their kiss. Why had his flesh tingled when she touched him? He had never experienced anything like that before.
Alon’s distraction prevented him from immediately perceiving several of his kind moving in the forest.
Yearlings hunting in a pack. The Deltas moving fast along the forest floor. He’d found them.
Alon stopped. Fear, cold as the blade of a knife, stabbed deep into him. How could he have left her?
The Delta Pack was too young to understand that Samantha was not an animal, not prey.
Alon turned back. He had to reach her before they did.
* * *
Samantha scrambled after Alon as he evaporated before her. She stifled a scream as his body became clear as water and then turned to smoke. An instant later he billowed upward like a storm cloud, leaving her earthbound and craning her neck to watch him disappear into the new green leaves above her. His clothing fluttered down to earth as if blown from a laundry line high in the treetops.
So this was his second form. Of course he had outdistanced her yesterday. He could fly like a storm cloud, a fierce dark storm cloud.
He was Naginoka, Ghost Child, a real living, breathing Toe Tagger. She realized she knew nothing about him except what he had allowed her to see.
If he was born of Nagi, how could Alon be so attractive? And then she realized what had to be the truth. Alon had told her that he had three forms. She knew what they were—smoke, handsome and hideous.
She’d seen the first two. If she was right, his natural form was as much a part of him as her bear form was a part of her. Had he run to keep her from seeing him as he was born?
She should know better than to kiss her enemy, yet just the memory excited her. Was it his immense power, the danger that hung about him like a mantle, or the loneliness she could taste on his tongue? Samantha had never met anything that was stronger than she, except her dad, of course. And there were precious few creatures that could outrun a grizzly. Alon had done it without breaking a sweat.
She pressed a hand to her heart as it pounded painfully against her ribs. Fast, as if she had been running instead of standing in his arms.
Her initial spark of excitement had ignited like dry tinder, burning her up inside. She had kissed Alon, the son of her most bitter enemy.
Samantha’s neck ached from staring past the mighty pines and through the
limbs to the blue skies beyond. Where had he gone?
She glanced to the ground at his clothing, a gray sweater that smelled of pine and damp black jeans, scattered about.
He couldn’t carry them with him. That meant that yesterday he had run her down and still had time to change into something else before intercepting her. She found that disconcerting and irritating. Did he have little stashes of garments tucked in the trees, hidden in caches like a squirrel hides seeds? She gathered his belongings, folded them and then hugged them to her chest. She inhaled his scent of autumn leaves and freshly turned soil. Alon smelled of the earth.
She tried to understand what was happening. She would have guessed something had frightened him, but she knew that was impossible. He could remove the soul from a living body and he could fly. What did he have to fear?
And then his words came back to her.
These woods are not like the ones you have known. It is not safe for you.
Samantha sat down hard, clutching his folded pile of clothing as if it were a pillow.
Her fingers tingled and it took a moment to realize that something was coming, something fast. She faced this new threat. It came from upwind as if it had no reason to shield its approach. She inhaled the strange sweet scent that reminded her of Alon, but was not exactly his.
They came at her in a pack, using the ground cover to circle her like wolves, giving her only flashes of vision. The silver of fur, the gleam of a deadly ridge of quills. Samantha roared. Still in human form, the sound was more a shout.
Pale flesh flashed through the undergrowth, so fast it was only a blur. One came at her from behind and she whirled, seeing the little ghostly gray Halfling, scrambling on all fours like a chimpanzee, teeth snapping, trying for her Achilles tendon. She swung a foot but the thing was too fast, reversing direction and scampering away as one landed on her back. Sharp teeth scored her shoulder before she could throw her new attacker aside.
She needed to change but knew she would be powerless for just a moment during her transformation. That instant might be all they needed to end her life. These Toe Taggers were pale as corpses and fast as ferrets, she thought, throwing another from her arm.
