Shifters, Secrets & Surprises Page 3

  Still, a little corner of her heart held on to hope.

  Let’s go. Now!

  She made it an order this time and ran for the woods. Her heart hammered in her chest, as much out of fear of whether the vampires would follow as the possibility that Harrison might not. But his footsteps — thank goodness — crunched right behind hers, and a moment later, his impossibly tall body appeared beside her, swinging along in the long, easy stride that counted as a sasquatch jog.

  She ran for the woods, desperate to get away.

  “You can run, but you can’t hide,” Hlavek yelled. She could hear the frustration and anger underneath. She could barely see him through the blizzard, but his voice followed her through the woods. “I’ll find you, she-wolf. I will take what is mine.”

  She might have shivered at the words, but Harrison took her hand and squeezed. The gesture encoded nearly the same words Hlavek had uttered but in a totally different way. They made her feel comforted instead of hunted.

  I will protect you, he seemed to be saying. I will protect what is mine.

  Chapter Three

  The second Harrison closed his hand around Nala’s, a dam inside him broke, and a whole series of images and memories flooded his mind.

  Like an image of Nala, smiling at him on a summer day, a long time ago. Of Nala, showing him her favorite place in the woods — the spot up on the peak where she’d sit and look out and plan a future that was destined to be so much more distinguished than his. Because she was the daughter of a powerful alpha, and he was a loner destined for a life wandering the woods.

  Nala. She’d always laughed with him instead of at him the way some other kids had.

  He remembered the very first Christmas after his mother left, telling him he was old enough to be on his own.

  You’re fourteen, she’d said. You’ll be fine.

  He remembered how desperately lonely he’d been until Nala came along and dragged him home, insisting her family include him in the festivities. He remembered all the times he’d hung out with her brother, playing games, hoping Nala would join them, too. Neal’s so-called pesky little sister had never bothered him. On the contrary, she’d fascinated him from the start. The way she stopped to study moss growing on a rock. The way she watched birds as they flew across the sky. The way she’d scoop a handful of water from the creek and hold it to the light.

  “Beautiful,” she’d say, grinning cheek to cheek.

  “Beautiful,” he’d whisper, looking at her.

  He’d secretly loved her for years. He’d dreamed about her the whole time he was gone. But he couldn’t exactly make a move on his best friend’s kid sister before she hit eighteen. And by the time he worked up the nerve to talk to her, it was too late.

  Nala. He’d known from the start he could never love her the way he wanted to, but he’d loved her all the same.

  “Hang on one second,” she said, pulling him back to the present.

  He glanced back to make sure the vampires hadn’t followed. His sensitive ears caught the sound of a grumbled disagreement and then an engine roaring to life. Good. The vampires were giving up.

  For now, at least. He flexed his fingers, wishing he could have ripped those bastards to shreds.

  He glanced back at Nala and froze. She’d slipped off her boots already and was pulling down her jeans.

  “I’ll be faster if I shift,” she said.

  His mouth hung open at the sight of all that smooth, creamy skin. She pulled off her top next, and he jerked his gaze away a second too late.

  God, she was beautiful. And man, had she grown up.

  Over the past five years, he’d spent long, lonely nights imagining what she’d become. That she would develop into a smart, confident woman was a given. But that she’d transform from a skinny tomboy to a woman with gentle curves that drove his mind wild…

  He leaned down and picked up a handful of snow. Maybe that would cool him down.

  Ready, she murmured into his mind a second later.

  He looked up at her wolf. A wolf with the same blondish-brown hair she had in human form and exactly the same gray-blue eyes. His heart skidded over its next couple of beats before steadying out again.

  Um, would you mind taking this? She nosed the backpack she’d bundled her clothes in before shifting.

  He swung it onto his shoulder alongside his own, nodding. God, she was something, keeping her head at a time like this. Clothes would come in handy later.

  Clothes… The thought sparked a replay of what he’d just glimpsed — and he gulped the way he’d had to on so many occasions before he’d left home.

  Remember she is not yours, he tried telling himself. She never will be.

  Because it was wrong to lust after his best friend’s kid sister, right? It was wrong for a sasquatch to love a she-wolf in a class of her own. Especially now. She was a gorgeous woman and a sleek, graceful wolf, while he was just gangly old him.

  Which way? she asked, looking around while he tried not to stare at her.

  He pointed without having to consider. You could blindfold a sasquatch and turn him around fifty times, and he’d still know exactly what lay where. No shifter had the sense of direction sasquatches had, especially in the snow.

  Put a sasquatch in a city, though, and he’d immediately become overwhelmed. Which was just another reason why he could never make Nala happy. He’d secretly been in touch with Neal a few times and heard about her move to Boston. A lot of the wolves he’d grown up among left the Berkshires for the city. Him, he’d just headed north. Every shifter had its own balance of human and beast, and sasquatches needed forests regardless of what form their bodies took.

  Maybe she wouldn’t mind living in the Berkshires. Maybe she’s ready to come home, an inner voice tried.

  He shook his head and focused on what mattered right now — getting her to safety.

  That way, he murmured and set off at a quick but not too punishing pace.

  Nala, he knew, would rise to any challenge, but there was no sense rushing headlong into a storm when her pack’s territory was almost a hundred miles away. They’d have to cover a lot of that on foot, sticking to the woods and fields to avoid the enemy. Vampires were delicate city types, and the farther he kept Nala from the roads, the better off she’d be.

  You can run, but you can’t hide. I’ll find you, she-wolf. I will take what is mine.

  He nearly growled at the echo of the vampire’s words. What a sick, arrogant bastard. That vampire had better watch his back, because Harrison had already vowed to kill him even it meant hauling his sorry sasquatch ass into Boston to do so. He’d do whatever was necessary to keep Nala safe.

  They jogged side by side through the woods and across fields. The wind blew harder and snow accumulated, but he was made for those conditions. In fact, it felt good.

  I feel free when I move, Nala had once said, and he’d never forgotten because the words fit him to a T. And from the look of her loose, easy stride, that hadn’t changed for her either. Secretly, his heart rejoiced, because Nala was still Nala — the same fun, upbeat girl she’d always been.

  Maybe when we get to her pack, we could— an inner voice started, tempting him with all kinds of impossible thoughts.

  He cut it off immediately. He had to concentrate on getting Nala home where her family could protect her, and then he’d have to leave. He’d left for a good reason all those years ago, and that wound hadn’t yet healed. That you’re-an-outsider-and-you’ll-never-fit-in feeling was still there. It had all come to a climax the day he’d played that stupid prank a friend had put him up to. Some friend. Then that huge, desert wolf — Nala’s sister’s new mate — had put him in his place, and he’d deserved it for being so naive.

  The incident was a wake-up call. It was high time he’d stopped kidding himself anyway. He was a sasquatch, born to wander far and wide — and alone. That was just the way things were.

  Doesn’t have to be, a stubborn voice in the back of his mind
whispered. Doesn’t have to be.

  Back when he was a kid, he’d wished he was a wolf like the others. But who was he kidding? Wolves had four feet and a tail. They howled at the moon. Wolves lived in packs, while sasquatch traveled alone, just as he’d had for the past six years. A pack of one pitted against the elements and enemies he didn’t even know existed until he left the safety of the Berkshires.

  Out in the wild, he’d learned the hard way how to distinguish scrupulous swindlers and ruthless enemies from honest shifters who, like him, were just trying to survive. He’d learned to fight. To protect those in need of help. To perpetually stay alert.

  In other words, he’d grown into the role he’d been born for: wanderer. Warrior. Renegade.

  And if killing wasn’t in his blood — so what? Neither was living alone, but that was the way it was. He was a sasquatch, not a wolf.

  So, yes — he’d bring Nala back to the Berkshires. But it was a mission to keep her safe, not a return from self-imposed exile. And the second he got her home, he’d leave to hunt down that bastard vampire. If he survived, he’d head back north and return to the sasquatch way of life. It didn’t matter how much he hated it. Destiny was destiny. He had his, and Nala had hers.

  Doesn’t have to be that way, a voice whispered in his mind.

  He looked over, watching Nala run through the snow. Her nose stretched forward, and her tail stood straight as a flag. With every graceful step, her wolf paws sent up little puffs of snow, and her breath crystallized in the air. He etched the sight into his memory to play back in his memories someday. She leaped over a fallen tree and sidestepped around a boulder easily. When she skirted a rotting trunk, her fur brushed his thigh, sending a rush through his veins. He couldn’t help but lower his hand and run his fingers along her sleek wolf coat as she danced past. His mind danced, too, just from the heady sensation of touching her.

  He lifted his chin and savored the light sting of snow against his cheeks. It made him feel alive and happy and yes — free.

  A feeling he’d have to bottle up and sip from for a long, long time once his mission was complete.

  They moved quickly, silently, for another hour or two or four — one thing sasquatches weren’t so good at was keeping track of time — by which time the snow was pelting down in a full-blown blizzard. The sky was dark, but he kept striding right along until a glance at Nala made him halt.

  She had to squint to keep out the snow, and the bounce had gone out of her step. The snow was nearly up to her hips in places, and she had to take huge, bounding leaps instead of smooth steps. She stopped and shivered, then soldiered on.

  Shit. He was born for these conditions, but even a tough wolf couldn’t be expected to make much headway in a storm like this.

  That way, he said above the howl of the wind. Even speaking into her mind, he had to make an effort to be heard. We can take shelter over there.

  Over where? She sounded so exhausted, he cursed himself for not noticing earlier.

  That way. Follow me. He put a hand on her back, trying to reassure her.

  But the vampires… she protested, looking back.

  He ran his hand over her coat, hating the fact that she was trembling from cold. No way will they venture out in this. We’ll be safe.

  She followed without a peep, and he shuffled to break a clearer path for her.

  Don’t worry. I’m okay, she said, but he could hear the fib.

  No way could she be okay. She’d been trekking through deep snow for far too long, for one thing. She’d been hunted by four bloodthirsty vampires, too. How could she possibly be okay?

  He nearly cheered when he spotted a dilapidated barn by the edge of the woods. He’d sensed it from a distance, but now they were nearly there.

  Right there. See? he asked, keeping her going over the last quarter mile until at last, they reached it. The barn was run-down, but the roof hadn’t caved in. It would do for the night.

  He pushed a creaky door open, and Nala hurried inside, sniffing then sneezing from the dust.

  Perfect, she said a second later, always a trooper.

  The second he stepped in, he felt the difference. Gone was the sting of wind on his face, the pelting snow. The temperature was only a degree or two higher inside, but without the wind to whip body heat away, it felt much warmer.

  He looked around then explored the small, crowded space. A rusty tractor that looked as if it hadn’t budged since the seventies blocked a row of stalls, and the middle stall was half full of hay. Hay not quite as old as the tractor. He sniffed.

  Not too musty for you? he asked as Nala came up beside him. She shivered against his leg, and man, did he wish he had a cozy cabin with a cup of hot chocolate to offer her instead.

  Perfect, she said, giving her tail a weak wag.

  The barn door blew open again, sending a blast of cold air through the space. He set her backpack down and hurried to close it again. Get dressed. I’ll get the door.

  But I’m warmer in wolf form, she said.

  Not warm enough. He shook his head. I can keep you warmer when your body lines up with mine.

  The second the words were out of his mouth — well, out of his head — he froze, realizing the connotations of what he’d just said. In practical terms, it made sense, of course. He could hug her better when she was in human form and share his body heat with her. But in every other sense…

  His cheeks flushed.

  Nala, to her credit, just laughed. In spite of her exhaustion — in spite of his awkwardness and the crazy situation they were in — she laughed, and it made his soul sing. Then she gave him a coy wolf grin that reminded him just how much growing up she’d done in the past few years.

  Why, Harrison Ames. That’s an offer a girl just can’t refuse.

  She turned on a Scarlett O’Hara accent and fluttered her eyelashes, defusing what could have been the most embarrassing moment of his life — and shit, turning him on like a switch. A thousand naughty images raced through his mind — like him and her beside a roaring fireplace and a discarded pile of clothes.

  He turned away before she caught too much of his blush — or the erection that threatened to give away exactly what he’d been thinking — and hurried toward the door.

  He heaved it shut, pushing the storm back out where it belonged, and braced the door shut with a rake. Then he made a slow lap around the barn. There wasn’t much to check there, and he was confident the vampires wouldn’t visit anytime soon, but he wanted to give Nala her space. Since she was putting clothes on, he figured he ought to do the same, so he opened his backpack and yanked out a flannel shirt and jeans. Sasquatches didn’t need much to stay warm, even on nights as frigid as this. And especially given the images still running through his head.

  He closed his eyes and thought of a log cabin in a winter landscape, picturing it from the inside to call his human side forth. Shifting was a conscious process, and it always took a second to convince his beast side to give in. With a slow, ticklish slide, his fur retreated back under his skin. His feet narrowed, his shoulders spread straighter, his back creaked, and there — he was human again. He pulled on his clothes while working the stiffness out of his fingers — whew, it was colder than he thought — and laced on his boots.

  “Come on, already,” Nala called.

  He took a deep breath. Her voice was like a siren, calling him to temptation. Suddenly, the simple act of cuddling up with someone seemed twenty times more perilous than facing a gang of vampires. Because that wasn’t just someone, and there was more than body heat at stake. It was Nala, and damn, his heart was already pounding halfway out of his chest.

  He took his sweet time, fiddling with an oil lamp that lit up on his second attempt. It threw a golden glow over the space and cast long shadows in every direction. When he finally worked up the nerve to walk over to the stall and peek in, Nala lifted the blanket she’d draped over her shoulders like a tent.

  “Come on in.” Her eyes traveled up and down
his body — his human body — pausing here and there as if to say, Harrison Ames, it’s been a long, long time.

  Did she like what she saw? Did she have the same feeling he did — that it was the same old friend there, yet someone different? Someone older. Wiser. Wearier — he figured that had to show through, too. Because damn, he’d been wandering for a long time, though he hadn’t really felt it until now.

  “Come on over,” she said, motioning to him.

  He gulped and slid gingerly into place behind her.

  “Warmer this way,” he murmured, glad to have his smoother, more articulate human voice back. Which was a funny feeling. Usually, it was a relief to shift into the comforting familiarity of his furry form. But with Nala…

  He hauled his mind back from the gutter it had headed for and wrapped his arms around her. “Okay with you?”

  “More than okay,” she sighed, leaning back against his chest.

  Part of him wanted desperately to reach higher, but part of him was perfectly content just to hold her around her waist like this. A nice, harmless hug meant to keep her warm. The funny thing was, it warmed him, too. All the way deep inside his soul to the vault where he kept memories of innocent, happy times he’d long since assumed were gone. But maybe they weren’t.

  Nala slipped her arms over his, and he nearly sighed with pleasure.

  “Wow, Harrison. It’s been so long.”

  Too long, he could have easily replied. But he didn’t because he didn’t trust his voice not to crack the way it had constantly when he’d been a teen. So he took her hands in his and rubbed to keep them warm.

  You’re not a kid any more, a little voice whispered in the back of his mind. And neither is she.

  “Where have you been, Harrison?”

  He thought it over, wondering how much of the long, aimless loop he’d covered he wanted to share. He decided to pick one episode out of a dull collection and tell her that. Not to keep the truth from her, just not to bore her.

  “Up in Canada. Working construction, ice fishing, whatever.” Avoiding people, he decided not to add.

  “Wow. Ice fishing? Cool.”