The odds were good enough. Just good enough that we happened across the path of a crabby, old bull moose who smelled wolf and decided to do something about it—such as an execution.
Zar had pricked his ears and trotted ahead, sniffing. I hadn’t thought anything of this since he didn’t appear concerned. My fault: I should have warned them about moose, yet I also hadn’t thought we could meet one out here.
Zar stopped as brush crashed and a beast the size of a frontier cabin charged us. I’d had no idea the scale until I saw that bull, antlers well grown in for autumn. Seven feet at the shoulder—not at the huge head and antlers like twin coffee tables—I couldn’t even speculate on what he might weigh. Must be as much as two horses.
None of this explained how he could move so fast. Or why. Was it the wolf smell that upset him? Was he territorial? Having a bad day? Or just an asshole of a moose?
I didn’t ask. Running backward, I drew up a gust of fire and air, churning to a quick fireball size of a dinner plate. This exploded into the moose’s face a second before he was on Zar.
The moose took absolutely no notice, even as his fur singed and bits of blazing underbrush stuck on his antlers. I might as well have thrown sand at him.
At the last second, Zar dived forward, dodging deadly hooves and snapping at an elbow while the bull pounded over him.
I was in the beast’s sights while he charged right through Zar’s efforts. Terrified, even more than at the first appearance of the animal, which left me more shocked than anything, with no idea what we were supposed to do next, I ran. I grabbed a tall fir, but there wasn’t a chance of pulling myself into it. There: a pine with low branches.
Calling for the trees’ energy, the earth and wood and roots and needles, I sprinted for the pines while fir trees bent in, branches crashing into the moose, disrupting the charge.
Like Zar, I also ran past him, parallel to the path he’d taken, throwing him off as he had to turn his mammoth body to get another angle on me. Zar caught his hock in his teeth but he might as well have been a gnat. I was the highly visible, moving target.
The bull launched his second charge for me as a red and white blur flew from the forest, straight into his face. Andrew bit into the great nose, the force of the blow jerking the moose’s head‚ which was larger than Andrew’s whole body, around on impact. At last, the bull staggered. Thrashing out with his hooves, bellowing, he slung his head, antlers bashing tree branches, and sent Andrew flying into a tree trunk with a sickening thud.
Zar sprang for his face. He missed as the bull wheeled, now meaning to finish Andrew. I ran for them, shouting Andrew’s name, even more terrified—not only for his situation, but my own blank as far as knowing what to do.
Like my fireball, my yelling did nothing. I focused on the trees instead: branches, earth, whirlwind, churning every force of nature I could call upon in a ten-foot radius to blast into the moose’s eyes and nose as Andrew struggled to his feet.
As trees slashed his nose and clouds of dirt sprayed his eyes, the bull backed, tossing his head and bellowing again, leaving my ears ringing.
Zar snapped at his huge, boney joints, drawing blood, trying to drive the bull like a sheepdog. Andrew darted to join him but a downward swing of the head and antlers caught them both as the moose stamped and roared.
The wolves were thrown, yelping and snarling, to the ground. A pine branch smashed across the moose’s nose and, as he reared his head again, fore hooves also leaving the ground, a dark mass shot from the forest, right into his neck. Jed fastened his teeth to the animal’s throat in that great, swinging dewlap of skin and fur. A huge cloven hoof cracked into Zar’s shoulder, just missing his head, as it lashed forward, sending him flying.
All so fast—a snap of fingers, a yell of rage—my own focus going into magic that wasn’t working. The bull wasn’t running or turning or giving in because of the dirt in his eyes or the 150 pounds of wolf hanging from his throat. He was only getting angrier.
I focused on a barrier rather than weapon, push rather than slap. Leaning forces: moose on one side, wolves and myself on the other.
Branches twisting together and wind in his face did nothing. Instead of defusing the situation, the huge animal was heading for me again, storming as he came, head whipping up and down, antlers jamming into trees, bashing Jed around with him.
The wolves couldn’t climb trees. But the moose couldn’t climb cliffs.
Everything about this landscape was rough, broken, boulders and mountains, valleys and rivers, ravines and ridges. Out of the forest and fifty yards to my left was such a gorge, beyond which lifted towering peaks. Five feet down or fifty, I had no idea, but we’d been following this rocky ground for some time and I knew at least it might offer a chance of shelter.
Throwing so much into the magic made it nearly impossible to think, much less plan, shout, and run, all while trying to keep it up, but I had to.
As I moved, calling to Andrew and Zar, terrified that one was about to have his skull caved in, Kage and Jason flashed past me, heading for the bull.
“No! Get out into the open! Run!” I headed for open space of rocks and ravines.
Like the others, Kage and Jason went for the moose’s nose—a point of leverage. Like the others, they failed to make the catch. Instead they formed their own barrier between the moose and myself with Andrew and Zar. Still, the bull plowed on, lashing his head against Jed, striking at the others with hooves and antlers.
What the hell did it take to turn this animal if five wolves and magic couldn’t?
Jason managed to clamp his teeth into an ear, his weight combined with Jed’s dragging the head down and sideways. The bull stumbled, almost free of the trees, while I kept rushing backward, shouting at them to break off, to run.
Rather than running, they fought. Because I wasn’t safely out of the way.
I raced through dry ground for the gorge beyond. There was a drop indeed. We just couldn’t use it.
A deathly descent almost straight down to a rocky draw that hundreds of years ago may have been the home of a plunging river. Now all red rock, dry earth, and golden scrub. A lovely hiding place from a moose—if only we had a staircase.
The wolves backed before the bull, showing their bloody teeth, snapping at the beast’s face. The snarls should have been warning enough for any sane animal. Yet the bull still pushed, closer and closer to the drop-off.
I also backed along the edge, mind spinning, fear and effort for the magic draining any possible ideas.
Kage had lacerated a foreleg. Andrew was bowled over once more by a blow from antlers. Jason was kicked almost over the edge of the cliff and I ran to him, grabbing him before he could stumble back inadvertently as he struggled to his feet.
Jed was finally slung off and the bull barged forward, trampling over him with Kage and Zar still going for his face.
The moose stopped.
That last charge through dozens of fangs seemed to have been the last explosion of steam. Head low, puffing, blinking and staring up along the ridge to me.
Was I somehow doing something? Could the moose feel the magic energy now as his own strength began to fade with the constant fight at his face?
He shook his head, ears flapping, groaning, jerking as wolves tried to catch his nose, and backed away.
Jason leaned into me, watching, snarling. I twisted my shaking fingers into his ruff. Andrew stood still, limbs trembling. Zar staggered back, blood dripping from his mouth and trickling down a foreleg from his shoulder.
Jed braced himself, his back to me, in front of Zar, snarling as the moose stumbled away, finally turning with Kage still snapping at his nose. Abruptly, tossing his antlers, the bull jogged away. He snorted and bellowed as he vanished among trees.
We watched him go. All besides Andrew, turning me. Like the bull, he stared at me, blinking, dazed. Until I realized he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking past: where the top of this ledge ran away, north.
I tur
ned at the same time as the others, a chill racing down my spine as I understood there was something behind me.
It wasn’t a something. It was a someone.
The great white wolf that was Isaac stood only feet from me. Arrayed behind him, watching us with narrowed eyes, stood two coyotes, three timber wolves, and about a dozen grizzly bears.
Chapter 32
The yellow-eyed, long-legged, female coyote from my dreams trotted forward when our eyes met. She lifted her head, drawing my attention to the rolled strip of suede in her jaws.
I reached instinctively to take it.
Jason, tense and bloody, leaned his neck in for a sniff. The coyote did not offer him so much as a glance or ear twitch. She only gave the roll to me, then trotted back past Isaac to rejoin her larger companion.
The pair moved off together with the strange wolves following.
More slowly, sniffing and snorting, some shaking their heads as if in disgust either at us or the moose, the gathering of bears also trundled away.
“Thank you,” I whispered after them, hand tight on the saliva-damp roll.
Otherwise, we remained silent as the creatures vanished up the trail or into the forest.
It was a note, handwriting over the inside of the suede, which material must be used for durability when carried in teeth.
A meeting will take place tonight past the Old Sawmill Road junction, 40 miles north of Red Eagle. A guide will be waiting for you at 10:00 on the timber bridge.
No salutation, no signature. For whom was the invitation meant? Us exclusively because they knew about us? Or was this open-ended? Passed around among local shifters and we happened to get a look in this time? Allowing us? Or because of us?
Friendly or not, we had this much. It would have to be enough. And we would have to go. Which could be a problem.
I hugged Isaac, but the questions for him didn’t seem important just then. Much more pressing was the condition of my pack.
Even if everyone was in top form, could we make it back to camp, dress, drive to the junction, and reach this bridge by 10:00 p.m.?
My heart was still in my throat as I took stock.
Zar and Andrew had to change, then return to fur in order to make the journey back. Only Zar had open lacerations, reminding me horribly of the wounds I’d held together on Isaac’s arm that night in the guest house.
I did the same for Zar when I saw how bad the damage was, first getting him to lie on his side at the edge of the forest, myself kneeling with him. I wrapped my hands around the bleeding flap of skin across his shoulder—setting my teeth and shutting my eyes while he flinched and panted.
Zar changed while I ducked my head, biting my lip, wishing for a block over my ears as well as eyes.
He talked to me in skin, although I could hardly hear him—asking if I was all right, asking Isaac what happened, and what the hell was up with that moose?
“We’ll talk later.” I never opened my eyes, hands still over his shoulder, now smooth, hot skin instead of thick fur. “If we don’t run, we’ll never make this meeting. But moose … have a reputation. I didn’t even know they’d be out here. I’m sorry, Zar. Andrew?” Lifting my voice and still not looking. “Are you okay?”
“Bloody brilliant, darling.” A painful gasp.
Zar kissed my hand, clasping my right in his left. “It’s all right, Cass—”
“Just change back. As soon as you can. You’re okay?”
“I’ll be fine.” Zar held my hand for a minute, panting, before he returned to fur and I finally looked at him—blood gone, good as new other than dazed and taking a while to get to his feet.
No more time for questions, or injuries, we jogged back as fast as I could manage, mostly downhill as twilight settled. Kage was also limping, and I don’t think Jason or Jed were exactly feeling their best. Even so, going as much as possible as the crow flies, we made it to camp in remarkably good time.
With no idea what, exactly, I was getting ready for, I rushed for the bathroom and changed my shirt. Notebook, flashlight, phone, and more in my purse, jacket on, trying not to fuss about everyone else.
All besides Jed changed into skin and dressed in the growing dark. There was a lot of back and forth, running into each other as they came from the trail to the tent.
Jed skulked and lingered out of the light. Andrew and Zar shouldn’t have changed back so soon after two recent changes—really three for Andrew going back a few more hours. He was the first into the van, sitting with his head in his hands, face bowed almost between his knees.
There was something wrong with Jason’s mouth—maybe an impact to his jaw or his teeth. He was a while in the bathrooms with Kage and still breathless, keeping his mouth open as he reached the van.
Zar, who brought Jed’s bag, helped him slink to load up out of sight in darkness while the rest of camp was merrily roasting hotdogs over camp stoves, or already going to bed.
I wordlessly passed around anti-inflammatories and bottles of water in the van.
As we drove out, headlights finding the gravel road through the newly settled night, Isaac explained that the coyotes and a few bears had found him while he ranged far ahead of us. He’d deliberately led them back when they had seemed agreeable, picking up other followers along the way.
He in turn asked about the moose. I explained what little I could. Were these things connected? Moose attack and shifters finally coming forward? It seemed unlikely. Only very lucky for us: a mad moose doing his mad moose thing and the appearance of shifters possibly saving our lives.
“There’s no such thing as a moose shifter … is there?” I glanced to the rearview mirror in the dark van.
“There are no herbivore shifters,” Zar mumbled. He sounded like he was in as much pain as Andrew had appeared to be.
“No … just a moose. Well, it was wonderful timing, Isaac.”
“Ten minutes earlier would have been a bloody sight better,” Kage snapped from the far back.
“Speaking of ten minutes, we’re going to be late. Can we find this place?”
“We’ll find it,” Isaac said.
My palms were sweating on the wheel, heart hammering. “I don’t…” I swallowed.
“It’s all right.” Isaac spoke softly. “It’s just a meeting.”
“Is it? I mean, what are we doing? I thought we were the ones coming to ask a question. Now … what do they want? We were just attacked by a wild animal out of the blue and … we can’t…” I looked again to the mirror, feeling pain and pressure in my own chest as if I were the one who’d been crushed, kicked, shaken, and trampled.
“No one’s going to hurt us, arä. They’ve decided they would like to meet after all. We’re guests here. Not enemies or prey.”
“How do you know that? I didn’t think they were aggressive, but after the hiding bears in Colorado and now the way they’ve avoided us and—it’s just that they could have been a hell of a lot more friendly and now, instead, they’re asking us to meet them in a weird place in the dead of night. I don’t know…”
Rising panic was making my words blur, breaths short, hands still shaking no matter how hard I gripped the wheel.
I hadn’t been afraid of these people. There was nothing in the dreams or scries to say they wished us harm.
I was only freaking out now because of what had just happened, the fragility of life, and how deeply I cared that the six in my company kept those lives for another sunrise.
“Do you want me to drive?” Isaac said so I could hardly hear him.
“You can’t.”
“I’m sure I could. You’re in shock. It’s not—”
“No, I’m okay. Yes.” I took a breath. “Yes, you’re probably right. I … that really rattled me with the moose. But I’m upset because … I don’t know…”
“No plan, no list? No idea what to expect? Not sure what’s going on? We don’t know either. The worst that could happen is they are aggressive, but there’s been plenty of time for that
. We’re together, we’ve received an invitation, we’ll answer it. This is why we came here.”
“If these are even the right people.”
“You know they are.”
I glanced sideways at him. “What?”
“You saw people from your visions today.”
“I saw Gavin in scries also and we were all almost—”
“This is right, Cassia.” He reached to press a firm hand over mine on the wheel. “Where you lead us is our choice to follow. We trust you. But that’s not important right now. This is not a trap, or trick. The rest of us aren’t even wondering.”
“I’m just not in a good headspace to … not be afraid.”
“You don’t have to not be afraid. However you feel is all right, arä. You just have to return the favor and trust us.” He squeezed my hand.
I twisted mine into his. “I do.”
“Pull over!” Jason shouted from the back.
I slammed on the brakes, skidding on the shoulder.
We were still moving when Andrew had the door open to vomit in the weeds and gravel at the side of the road.
I looked at Isaac in the newly lit car, pressing his hand for a second with both of mine. “Thank you. I know. It’s going to be okay.”
Isaac bent over the console to kiss my knuckles.
“Did he change too much?” I asked.
“It can do that; nauseating,” Isaac said. “There shouldn’t be any harm done.”
Andrew was rinsing his mouth and spitting before slamming the door.
We continued to the junction and started hunting for the bridge.
“What about Jed?” I asked in the midst of the bridge discussion, searching by map and headlights, stopping the car to listen for running water.
“He can stay,” Zar said from Jed’s usual place behind my seat. Jed sat up, wedged in the floor space. “Really, more of us should be in fur.”
Moonlight Journey: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (The Witch and the Wolf Pack Book 6) Page 21
