Midnight Moonlight (10 page)

After watching that documentary, Calla had hardly been able to sleep, thinking of how horrible it must have been for the girl. She thought of the sheer terror of being lost in the woods, for one thing. Everything looking the same, not knowing where to go, not having food or water, being all alone.

And then being shot. Being hunted. Being hurt. And finally killed by an animal. Calla could hardly even fathom the ratcheting levels of horror. Each moment had made things worse for the poor girl.

Now, out in the woods, Calla felt just a tiny touch of that horror herself. Before, she would never have used the term “lost” to describe herself and Ryder, but she realized that she didn’t have a clue where she was. Even if she wanted to, she didn’t think that she could get back to camp. They were out here alone and there was a mad man after them.

She eyed Ryder, who still seemed vigilant.

Maybe she was being ridiculous. Ryder thought he was an animal. He’d be cautious of anything he didn’t understand. Perhaps he didn’t understand the man in the woods.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe she should get up and call after him, ask him if he had any food or if he knew the way out of the woods.

But her heart seized with iron terror at the thought of doing anything of the sort.

She’d seen the man’s gun, cold and metal. Just a flash between the trees. The sun had caught the edge of the barrel, and the gun had gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. It looked wicked and dangerous.

And the way the man had run…

No, Calla was not going after that man, and she didn’t trust him.

She hoped he was gone, but—

Another noise. Close by. Something snapping—a branch or a bush, maybe.

Calla swallowed, dragging her gaze over the surrounding area, searching for any sign of the man or the gun.

Ryder tensed next to her. He crouched down as if he was ready to spring.

She didn’t see anything, but she couldn’t calm down. Her heart was beating double time, and she was certain that danger was just at the periphery of her vision. She adopted a similar crouch to Ryder’s and the two stayed close. He looked one direction, and she looked the other.

They waited.

But the noise didn’t come again, and neither saw what had made it.

They waited for longer.

Calla began to get a cramp in her legs from crouching down the way that Ryder did. She had to shift position. When she did, she rustled the undergrowth, and she cringed.

She held her breath, waiting for an answer from the woods around them, some movement in return.

But there was nothing.

Still, she didn’t move. She was frozen, and she mused that she was just like a frightened rabbit. She’d seen them freeze in place more than once—going so still as to be dead.

No one had taught Calla to freeze. It had simply been instinctive.

Maybe there was more of the animal in her than she’d like to admit. Maybe she and Ryder weren’t so different.

Eventually, she began to wonder if they should be staying here, stuck and not moving. Obviously, they should keep on their journey. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to go anywhere.

She imagined that she and Ryder would begin their trek through the wood. Perhaps they’d get as far as a few hundred feet.

But then the man with the gun would appear, and the gun would gleam in the tired light, giving an evil, knowing wink before it exploded into the calm of the forest.

Calla thought of a bullet in Ryder, blood gushing, his eyes turning blank and empty.

It was more than she could take.

She had no reason to think that the man with the gun wanted to hurt them, but she… she
felt
it.

No, she and Ryder weren’t going anywhere.

Instead, they huddled in the woods as the sun began to sink. They kept watch over the trees around them. At every sound, they started. They were both on edge, both concerned.

The setting sun began to turn the woods orange. It cut a swath of reddish light through the trees, casting long, long shadows and dyeing everything with its mature tinge.

Still she and Ryder didn’t move.

The sounds of the forest were changing. The insects grew louder, more varied. Above, there was the flutter of bat wings as they escaped into the open air.

The shadows grew darker. Pooling between the bushes and grass, the woods seemed a hidden place.

Calla was on high alert.

And then they heard a noise.

This was distinctive. A man coming through the woods, crunching the leaves. He was even whistling.

She and Ryder looked in the direction of the sound, but it was dark, and they couldn’t see anything. The orange light didn’t reach far enough.

Calla’s heart began to beat irregularly. It pattered quickly, like a drum, then skipped a beat, then pattered quickly again. The inconsistency drove her terror to a fever pitch. She began to shake all over.

The man was coming. The gun was coming.

They’d be shot down in the red light of evening, and it would all be over.

She didn’t know what to do.

Could they fight? They had no weapons. Right now, her heart was in her throat, and she could hardly breathe, let alone move.

The footsteps were coming closer. The whistling grew more distinct. It was crisp and clear, hitting all the right notes. But it was sounding almost ghostly, unreal and unsettling.

Beside her, Ryder’s entire body was rigid. She could see his muscles standing up against his skin, every vein bulging. The cords of his neck stood out. His eyes were narrowed into slits. He was ready for whatever might happen.

The leaves crunched.

Calla shuddered.

And then…

Then it was suddenly silent.

She turned to look at Ryder, but he was sniffing the air.

Ryder started to get excited. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he let out a few short barking noises.

“What?” she whispered. She liked this less than his tense body.

Of course, Ryder didn’t tell her.

And while she was begging with him to speak, to explain…

A wolf jumped out of the underbrush and tackled Ryder.

Calla shrieked. The wolf was huge and furry, with enormous glistening teeth, and she couldn’t help but think of that night with the red balloon, that day so long ago, and the despair took her again, the fear and the anger, and—

She leapt on the wolf, wrapping her arms around its torso, and yanked on it.

She and the wolf fell backwards. “Let go of Ryder!” she yelled.

But then… then it was confusing, because the wolf was squirming in her arms, except it wasn’t his limbs that were moving, but rather his skin. His fur was ripping and changing, and he was changing shape, and…

Calla flung the body of the wolf away from her, scrambling backwards.

Within minutes, it wasn’t a wolf there. It was Jasper. He was naked, and he was laughing.

She averted her eyes, full of conflicted emotions. She was still terrified, but she was also confused, and she was embarrassed by Jasper’s nudity as well. Additionally, she was angry, because he’d found them.

Jasper went off into the woods and came back with his jeans on. He was holding his shirt in one hand. It was white.

“You.” Calla got to her feet. “You’ve been chasing us and scaring us. Where’s your gun?”

“I just got here,” said Jasper. “I shifted into a wolf to teach you a lesson, girlie. Don’t think I won’t hurt you if I have to.”

She drew back. What was he saying?

“Don’t try leaving the camp again,” said Jasper. “You can’t get very far on foot. And wherever you do go, I can track you. You left a trail that I could easily scent out. But it’s annoying and a waste of my time. If you try it again, you’re going to feel teeth and claws.”

In spite of herself, she shivered.

Jasper gestured with his head. “Come on. Back to the camp.”

She hugged herself. “You don’t have a gun? You weren’t out here, circling us?”

“No,” said Jasper. “What are you talking about?”

“There’s someone else out here,” she said. “Ryder doesn’t like him. I don’t either. I think he’s dangerous, whoever he is.”

“No one lives out here, lady,” said Jasper. “You got yourself worked up over nothing. We’re the only people here.”

“I don’t…” She knew that the other man was there. “Can’t you scent out
his
trail?”

“We’re
going
back to camp,” said Jasper. He took her by the arm.

She let Jasper lead her away, but she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder as they left. The man with the gun was still out here. She was sure of it.

CHAPTER SIX

Ryder was vaguely bemused when they started going back the way they had come, but not entirely so. He wasn’t much accustomed to the idea of setting out for a destination. Certainly, wolves did it, but Ryder hadn’t been a normal wolf, even when he was changed for all those years. He’d had a pack, but it had been a human pack, and so he didn’t behave the way wolves in the wild might. Instead, he’d been all alone, and he’d wandered aimlessly for years and years, never straying too far from his human pack, but never quite being part of them either. His life had consisted of looking for food, running and jumping through the woods, and sleeping. Nothing more.

Now that he was back in the man skin, food wasn’t a problem. It was brought to him, and he didn’t have to hunt for it.

Ryder sometimes missed the thrill of the hunt, but he didn’t miss the times when food was scarce, when he nearly starved.

It took quite a long time to get back to the camp, though Ryder didn’t know that was what it was called. The sky had darkened and the stars had come out. It was a warm summer night, and Ryder was happy not to be moving anymore.

Jasper started a fire. Ryder didn’t remember Jasper’s name. He only knew that he was pack. There was a familiarity to Jasper, something that soothed Ryder and let him know he was with family.

But Ryder could also see that the soft woman didn’t like Jasper at all, and he didn’t understand that.

Ryder curled up next to the fire, glorying in its warmth. Above him, Jasper and the soft woman spoke in clipped voices, only occasionally exchanging words. He could tell that they were angry with each other. He was troubled by this. He liked the soft woman very, very much, and he wanted her to be accepted in his pack. He knew there would be trouble otherwise.

In fact, earlier, when he’d been with her, he come so close to remembering…

He’d found a word, and he’d whispered it, and in that moment, everything that he had ever known as a human seemed destined to come flooding back. He was certain it was going to, in fact. He was going to be a man.

And then…

Then, nothing. It didn’t come. Possibly because the soft woman had pushed him away. He wasn’t sure what to make of that either. He thought that she liked him. He could smell her, and her scent told him she was just as interested in mating with him as he was with her. And yet, she seemed to resist him. He didn’t know why that was. Perhaps it was some human thing that he couldn’t understand anymore.

He was so frustrated. Why did he wear the man skin if he couldn’t think like a man?

In truth, Ryder didn’t think at all. He had bursts of emotion, motivations, desires, and fears, but nothing that was entirely equivalent to human thought. But he remembered human thought in a hazy, abstract way, and he wanted it back.

There was a noise—high-pitched and jittery. Ryder jumped before he remembered that Jasper had a little box that he carried in his pocket that made the noise. Jasper would hold it to his ear and talk to it as if it were a person. Ryder found it strange, but the box didn’t seem to be a threat, so he didn’t worry too much about it. He settled back down on the fire while Jasper spoke into his box.

When Jasper was finished, he put the box back in his pocket and took the soft woman by the arm. He began to drag her back towards the freight container.

The soft woman resisted, yelling at Jasper. She didn’t want to be locked back up in that big, dark, metal room. Ryder didn’t blame her.

He growled at Jasper.

Jasper turned on him, saying angry words that Ryder couldn’t quite understand. Ryder didn’t care. He wasn’t afraid of Jasper. He had to keep his brother from putting the soft woman into the container. She didn’t want to go there, and Ryder didn’t want her in there.

Ryder wedged himself between Jasper and the soft woman, snarling.

Eventually, Jasper gave up. Instead of putting the woman in the container, he put her in the tent. He zipped her inside. He stopped to talk to Ryder and give him instructions. Ryder couldn’t understand the words, but he knew from some of Jasper’s gestures that he wanted him to stay here, not to go anywhere else.

Ryder didn’t plan on going anywhere, of course. But if the soft woman wandered off into the woods again, he would have to go after her. He couldn’t let her run off alone. She might be in danger.