First Bite (The Dark Wolf Series) (2 page)

No broken body lay among the rocks at the base of the cliff. Travis breathed a sigh of relief—he hadn’t been looking forward to finding what was left of the woman. But where the hell had she gone? Baffled, he looked around and tried to catch a scent. Suddenly the wolf took him toward a thick stand of pines, a family group with the tallest tree in the center, the ancient giant surrounded by dozens upon dozens of younger trees that had sprung from its cones over the decades.
Not possible
, thought Travis. She couldn’t be there; it was too damn far from the cliff.

Yet as he approached, he caught a whiff of newly released sap. Cautious, he pushed his way through into the heart of the forest, where a falling twig suddenly made him look up. Overhead, a few of the trees had freshly broken branches from crown to floor, their jagged edges exposing moist wood that gleamed white in the moonlight. It marked the path of descent as surely as if a small comet had crashed to earth here—only it wasn’t a comet. Swallowing hard, Travis lowered his gaze and cast his nose over the needled floor. The tang of blood was in the air now, mixed with the heady pine.

He found her beside a rotted-out stump that was feeding a tall stand of maidenhair ferns. Her dark clothing and dark hair made her a crumpled shadow in the tangle of broken branches and crushed fronds. Only her pale, drawn face caught what little
light filtered down to the forest floor. She was young, maybe just twenty-five or so…

What a goddamn waste.
Travis gently nosed the pine needles and leaves from her fine features as he wondered what to do. He could bury the poor girl, he supposed, but someone out there was probably missing her. He didn’t relish the thought of having to call the cops. They’d want to know who he was, and try to pinpoint the call, and—

She opened her eyes, and Travis nearly yelped in surprise. And then he
did
yelp as the knife struck his chest.

The tawny wolf leaped backward and landed several feet away, growling and baring its teeth. A sudden flurry of pine needles and dead leaves flew up from the forest floor, forming a whirling vortex around the snarling creature. Seconds later, the plant debris fell back to the ground, accompanied by a scattering of tiny blue sparks that winked out as they struck the earth. The wolf was gone. Travis stood in his human form, a small knife protruding from his sternum.

“What the fucking hell was that for?” he shouted as he grabbed the hilt and yanked. Then yanked harder since the damn blade was wedged in the bone. “Ow, dammit!” He pressed the pad of his thumb hard against the hole in the front of his favorite T-shirt to stop the bleeding as he regarded her with narrowed eyes. She could have stabbed him in worse places, he supposed glumly. He threw the knife into the forest and most of his anger with it, then approached her cautiously and knelt beside her. “Got any more surprises on you?”

She was terrified but defiant, and Travis was reminded of an animal gone to ground, backed into a corner with no chance of escape, yet determined to battle on. “I wish I did,” she spat out, her voice raspy. “I’d kill you. I’d kill
me
. You’re not taking me back.”

Right. In that case, Travis was almost glad that she
had
stabbed him—at least he’d gotten the weapon away from her.
What if she’d chosen to do herself in first? He couldn’t have reacted fast enough to stop her. But why the hell was she so damn determined to die? And what was so terrible that she felt she had to jump off a damn cliff to escape it? Of course, she couldn’t be in her right mind at the moment, not after that landing. He’d just shape-shifted right in front of her, and she hadn’t turned a hair.

“You’re in shock,” he said. “And you’re hurt.” Nothing like stating the obvious, but maybe she didn’t realize how bad off she was. He could see from here that her left leg was broken. Her left arm was broken, too. And she was bleeding from scrapes and gashes in a dozen places that he could see and goddess knew how many places he couldn’t. “You’re not going anywhere but a hospital.”

He ignored her protests as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket, thankful anew for that little Changeling quirk that allowed him to retain his clothes and everything that was within his aura each time he shifted. Christ, if life was like the movies, he’d end up naked and penniless every damn time he ran as a wolf. No wonder Hollywood werewolves were insane with rage. Probably pissed off at the sheer inconvenience of their lives.

Travis dialed 911 on just two bars—it was amazing he had any at all—and thanked all the stars when someone answered. He spelled out the location, described the woman’s injuries.

“What happened to her?” asked the dispatcher.

He considered revealing exactly how she’d gotten her injuries; he really did. Then after Search and Rescue delivered her to a hospital and she was treated, she’d be held for seventy-two hours in a psych ward to protect her from herself. But it didn’t feel right. Maybe his inner wolf was repelled by the thought of the woman being locked up, or maybe his human side was just getting soft in the head, but Travis heard himself say, “She fell out of a tree.”

When he was asked for his name, he gave the one that the phone was registered to. No one would know until much, much later that it didn’t belong to him.

“Please stay on the line until the crew arrives,” said the dispatcher.

“No problem,” he said. He didn’t plan to hang around, though. Instead, he positioned the phone on top of the stump, where it glowed like a beacon—the rescuers would be able to zero in on the cell’s location. “There,” he said to the injured woman. “Help is on its way.”

“I don’t
want
help,” she hissed.

“You’re welcome.” The flippant remark fell flat as he looked at her drawn face. A strange greenish light shone momentarily in the depths of her big dark eyes.
What the hell?
He inhaled sharply, but her scent hadn’t changed.
Human.

In his whole long life, he’d only seen that flash of green in the eyes of one other creature—a Changeling like himself. The glow vanished as fast as it had appeared, however, leaving her eyes as human as before. Apparently he was imagining things, likely because he was spooked by the whole situation. He was no medic. He knew enough not to move the injured woman and that was about it. He had no supplies, no equipment. And if he did, where the hell would he start? Best to leave it to the pros. In fact, he’d done his good deed for the year, so he should probably just leave, right?

Wrong. She was pale and her teeth had started to chatter. He understood that shock was dangerous, but how did he treat it? Warmth? That sounded right, she needed to be kept
warm
. She needed blankets, lots of them. The only things at hand were pine boughs, however—and how helpful would that be? His inner wolf whined softly, urging a different course of action.
No.
He’d already done plenty, and nothing good ever came of getting too cozy with humans.
No way.

Unable to come up with another solution, Travis sighed and resumed his wolfen form. This time, though, he was careful to approach her from the left. Her good hand, the one she’d stabbed him with, was her right. Even if she came up with another weapon, it was unlikely she’d be able to reach across her battered body.

“Get away from me.” Her voice was a faint whisper now, her head was lolling, and she had to fight to keep her eyes open. Carefully, he used his front claws to scrape away the branches and debris from her left side and made a place where he could lie down with the full length of his large body pressed against her shivering one. A Changeling’s core temperature ran much higher than a human’s, giving him far more body heat to share. Despite his efforts, however, his heightened senses told him that it wasn’t going to be enough.

She wasn’t going to live long enough for her rescuers to find her.

It was a damn shame. She was pretty and young, and her whole life had been ahead of her…Just like him. His whole life had been ahead of him once, too—and like her, he had contemplated ending it all. Only he hadn’t been trying to escape anything. He’d been trying to atone for what he’d done.

Shit.
Travis shook his great wolfen head, making his long ruff stand out almost like a mane. He didn’t like unscheduled trips down memory lane, and it pissed him off when he was blindsided with one.

Atone. He needed to make amends where none were possible. Restore harmony where none could exist.

He sighed, feeling every ounce of the crushing weight he carried on his shoulders. What had driven this young woman to such extremes? Maybe he wasn’t doing her any favors by interfering, but he was going to anyway. It was time to pull his last card out of his pocket.

It took a helluva lot of energy for the human body to transform into a wolf. Changelings learned to draw it from their surroundings, particularly from the earth. It led to an enormous buildup of static electricity, which was why shifts often ended in a flurry of blue sparks. But in times of extremity, Changelings could sometimes collect that energy for another purpose. When he was lying this close to the injured woman, his aura and hers intersected. It would allow him to give her an infusion, not just of energy, but also—if his wolfen side permitted it—of a portion of his life essence.

The inner wolf was devoted to his survival. It would rise to the surface without being called if Travis’s life was threatened, force a shift, and deal with the problem with tooth and claw—a fact that Travis knew all too well. It was against its very nature to allow what he wanted to do for this woman, and without its cooperation it wasn’t possible. So he couldn’t let the wolf say no.

Listen, you
, he addressed his lupine self.
I don’t care what your mission statement is; I need to give this woman a second chance. Understand?
He waited, prepared to fight his alter ego if necessary. (And wouldn’t Freud have a field day with that?)

Help. Give.

If Travis had been in human form, his eyebrows would have disappeared into his hairline. The wolf had actually communicated with words, a rare event—the animal persona knew language but seldom used it. Even more rare was that the wolf had actually agreed with Travis.
All right then. Let’s do it.

Geneva finally gave in and agreed to meet up with her coworkers, Candace and Amber, at a popular rave club. “Neva, come have a couple drinks with us and dance.” “Neva, you’ll never meet anyone
if you stay home all the time.” “You need to loosen up, Neva. Have some fun.”

Fun? Her life hadn’t contained much of that, and really, she felt a little old for the whole rave scene. But to her surprise, she enjoyed herself. Three Jell-O shots and she was ready for a lot
more
fun, too. Amber loaned her a pair of LED gloves. Circles and spirals and even squiggles of brightly colored UV light appeared to dive through the air overhead as the techno music moved her.

Neva was having so much fun on the dance floor that she lost track of her friends. A dedicated raver, Candace wore waist-length faux dreads in Day-Glo pink. Even in the midst of the crowd of dancers, she should have been visible. And Amber’s vivid blue tutu should have stood out as well. But Neva didn’t see them among the bodies thrashing in unison to the music’s primal beat.

She made her way off the dance floor, but the table they’d been sitting at had been taken over by another group. Restrooms? She checked all four of them. They were large enough to do an airport proud, but her friends weren’t in them. Neva cruised the balcony that overlooked the enormous dance floor, to no avail. The massive dance room branched off into a warren of smaller rooms: a few specialty bars but mostly offices and storerooms. No Amber, no Candace. Had they left without her?

The last door opened into a cozy pub. Although most of the chairs were upside-down on the tables, the lights were on and Anderson Cooper was on the big-screen TV. No one was there, and it was tempting to sit down for a moment. The pounding techno tunes she’d enjoyed so much were starting to give her a headache. Not that it was quiet here—just a few decibels lower than the main dance hall. Tired of the hide-and-seek, Neva decided to go home.