Saved by Wolves (Shifters Meet Their Mate Book 1) (2 page)

Power lines ran along the road, a smorgasbord of energy just waiting to be tapped. She opened herself to it, careful to only siphon off a small amount. Taking too much too quickly could be dangerous, as she’d run the risk of overloading her body and ending up unconscious. Not an experience she had any desire to repeat.

When power hummed through her veins, she sent it backwards, hoping it would be enough. A glance in the rearview mirror showed not only the grey car stranded in the middle of the road, but the cars behind it and in the other lane as well. Two men climbed out of the grey car, one trying to talk on his cell. She watched, feeling a small sense of triumph when he threw it to the ground in disgust. The surge had taken out the cell’s battery. Score one for weird powers.

Turning onto the highway leading north out of the city, she tightened her hands on the wheel.

“Hold on, Francesca,” she said. “I’m coming. And I won’t be alone.”

T
he rutted dirt road came to a dead end, and Kirra pulled her car off to the side. Rain came down in sheets, splattering against the windshield and cutting visibility to almost nothing, but she could just make out a faint gap in the forest beyond, telling her she’d found the trail.

As tempting as it was to stay in the car until the rain let up, and as much as she just wanted to sleep after three days of almost nonstop driving, she wasn’t one hundred percent sure she’d lost the second tail she’d picked up on the way out of the city. Setting herself up as a sitting duck would be stupid. Besides, rain would help cover her tracks, whereas if she waited until later, she’d leave a trail of muddy footprints a two-year-old could follow.

Kirra dug her flashlight out of her pack and switched her sneakers for hiking boots, then pulled the hood of her windbreaker over her head and slid out of the car. She’d intended to drive it into the trees to hide it, but the forest was too dense—she’d have hit a tree or a boulder within five feet.

Thick mud pulled at her boots as she made her way to the trailhead. Nailed to a birch on her right, a large No Trespassing sign warned people away, a smaller sign under it declaring it was Shifter Territory. Good. She’d been afraid she’d made a wrong turn three miles back.

According to the Preservation Treaty, the official stance was that only shifters and government officials were allowed into Shifter Territory without an invitation and a guide at their side. Kirra was neither. She took a deep breath, hooked her thumbs under the straps of her pack, and stepped onto the path.

Even with the flashlight, she could only see a few feet ahead, which slowed her progress. The trail was slippery with wet leaves and stones, and roots jutted up out of the earth, threatening to trip her with every step. She held a hand out to push back the branches blocking the path. The overgrowth made her think that the route wasn’t used very often, if at all. Maybe shifters didn’t need paths. They probably ran around in their were forms, slinking through the undergrowth in search of prey.

Something moved in the trees to her left, and she whirled around, flashlight raised like a club. Rain dripped from the trees, plopping into a puddle with a splash. She snorted at herself. As if any self-respecting shifter would be out on such a miserable night. And even if they were, the reports of their violent natures were probably blown out of proportion by the media. Probably.

Voices behind her on the path reminded her that there were real things to worry about. Unless by some huge coincidence someone had decided to use the remote south-west entrance, her tail had tracked her down. Her faint hope that the No Trespassing sign would deter them died a quick death when she saw lights bobbing in the dark. The fact that she could see the lights wasn’t good. It meant the rain was letting up, and they’d be able to see her light too. Sending energy into the storm to feed it was an option, but the chance of worse weather stopping them was slim. Not worth the effort. Instead, she turned off her light, stashed it in her pack, and carefully worked her way off the path. Her eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, and she headed for the base of a massive oak with low, spreading branches.

Jumping, she grabbed the lowest branch and swung her legs up, wrapping them over it. The pack on her back threw her balance off, but she managed to work her way to the third branch—high enough that no one would easily see her, but not so high that she would break a leg if she had to jump to the ground. The lugs on her boots helped her grip as she climbed. She imagined trying to climb a tree in the pointy-toed shoes that Francesca wore and shook her head. She’d take practical over fashionable any day.

The rain stopped, allowing her to see the approaching lights clearly. There were four of them. Not good odds, but at least she didn’t hear dogs. Other than her breathing, the only thing she heard was the dripping of rain plopping onto her head and pack from the leaves above. She inhaled slowly to control her rapid breaths.

“The footprints stop here,” a man said, his low voice muffled by the thick air.

“Split up,” a louder, more authoritative man answered. “Marshall, you go right. You two, follow the path, and I’ll go left. She can’t have gone far. Tranq rounds only. They want her alive.”

“Not sure why,” the first man muttered. “Isn’t she one of those freaks? If you ask me, they should all be put down.”

“That’s why they don’t ask you. Let’s go.”

Someone cleared his throat. “What about shifters?”

“This is Cat territory. If you run into one, tell them we have a pact with their alpha. They’ll leave us be.”

“Yes, Captain.”

The military had a pact with the Cat shifters? That wasn’t good. The way the captain had said it implied that the pact was only with the Cats, not with the other shifters, but that was small consolation when she was stuck up a tree in the middle of enemy territory. If shifters were working with the military, that meant they had ties to Blackstone, however indirectly. That didn’t just throw a wrench into her plan—it threw the whole toolkit at it.

Kirra watched as one of the men—Marshall she assumed from the conversation—passed so close under her tree she had the insane urge to leap down and land on his back. His flashlight played around the area, and she got a brief glimpse of the tranq gun in his other hand and the real one at his hip. It killed her urge to take him on in hand-to-hand combat. Francesca could stop bullets, but guns were mechanical, not electric, so Kirra wouldn’t have a chance.

It gave her an idea, though. Most of the storm’s energy had dissipated, but some remained. Kirra pulled it into her until her gut burned and her palms tingled, and then sent out a concentrated pulse.

Sparks flew from Marshall’s flashlight. “What the—” He flung it away, cradling his hand. The light went out, pitching them into a darkness cut only by the faint moonlight trickling through the trees.

“Stupid, shoddy equipment,” he cursed. “Can’t even get a damn flashlight that works. Gun’ll probably explode in my hand.”

Kirra’s eyes adjusted again, and she saw him dig a spare pair of batteries out of his jacket pocket. She held her breath when he tried the flashlight, but the pulse had done its job and the new batteries didn’t work.

“Screw this. I’m not paid enough to go through Shifter Territory in the dark.” Marshall crashed his way back to the path. The rest of the team eventually joined him, all with the same complaint.

“She did it,” the captain said. “This proves she’s the right one.”

“Yeah, but how are we going to find her? I can barely see my hand in front of my face.”

“We’ll wait until dawn and get her then.”

Crap. She hadn’t counted on that. Kirra pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. She’d have to wait for the right moment to leave. A brisk wind cut through the zipper of her jacket and made the wet jeans clinging to her thighs ice cold. She bit down on the collar of her jacket to keep her teeth from chattering.

Hours crawled by. The sun finally broke the horizon, giving her a better view of the surrounding woods. She wasn’t as far from the path as she’d thought, and from her vantage point, she could see the four men sitting on the path, guns in their laps. Two were asleep.

Slowly extending one cramped leg to work the knots out of it, she prepared to move.

A tall, lean man with dreadlocked blond hair appeared on the path beside the soldiers, and she froze in place.

“You’re trespassing in Cat territory,” he said, legs braced wide, radiating the confidence of someone who knew he was in the right.

The soldiers scrambled to their feet.

“I’m Captain Avery and these are my men,” the leader said, standing at ease. “We’re out of Weston, and we have an agreement with your alpha that we can cross your land when necessary. We’re on the trail of a dangerous criminal who’s hiding somewhere around here.” He looked the shifter up and down. “I hear you Cats are good trackers. There’s a reward in it if you help us find her.”

Kirra gritted her teeth at being called a criminal. The plea for help was worse, though. A Cat would sniff her out in minutes. She eased to her feet and balanced on the branch, ready to jump.

“Why should we help you? Humans have no rights here.”

“As I said, your alpha has approved this. If you help us, it benefits us both. I doubt you want a murderer roaming around your land.”

The Cat hissed out a laugh, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “Our alpha wouldn’t make a deal with humans. And even if he did, I think we can handle a female human ourselves. Now leave before we decide to deal with you too.”

The captain shook his head. “I’m afraid we can’t do that.” He tilted his head, and the soldier to his left pulled out his gun and shot the Cat point-blank in the head. He dropped to the ground, landing in the mud with a sickening squelch. Kirra choked back a gasp and gripped the branch above her for support.

The captain stepped over the dead Cat and picked up the pack he’d been using as a backrest during the night. “That’s the end of that. It’s too bad he wouldn’t track her, though. It would have been—Aggh.”

A snarling panther took him down, powerful jaws clamping onto his neck. The other soldiers scattered, firing their weapons in all directions as shifted Cats encircled them, seeming to appear out of thin air.

Kirra shook herself out of her shock. No Cats were below her, but that could change at any second. She dropped from the tree and hit the ground running, heading away from the fight.

She couldn’t hear anything over her own noise, but she sensed someone behind her. The trees thinned out, and she was able to move faster, weaving from side to side to make herself a harder target.

She stumbled out of the trees and teetered at the edge of a riverbank, throwing her arms out for balance. Ten feet below, fast-moving water flowed north-east. The far bank was at least thirty feet away. She was a good swimmer, but not that good. North along the riverbank was the best bet.

Something hit her in the back, knocking her forward, and she pitched down the bank. Blinding pain radiated along her left leg, everything went dark, and then ice-cold water closed over her head.

M
arcus padded along the boundary dividing the Wolves’ territory from the Cats’. It was an invisible barrier, but it was as effective as a three-foot-thick concrete wall. Four months earlier, the alphas of all the shifter packs had agreed to work together—to an extent—to deal with the problem of the humans. Keeping their people confined to their own territory was the primary part of the deal. Shifters raiding, fighting, or courting outside of their own pack risked expulsion.

As a result, guard duty had become increasingly routine and boring. Even the Cats were following the rules, which was unusual, considering their psycho of an alpha. Marcus didn’t trust it.

The alphas were working on a plan to keep humans from interfering with their lives and lands—the human government had no jurisdiction or rights in Shifter Territory, yet tried to impose itself on them at every turn—but the lack of action was wearing on everyone’s nerves. With no easy outlet for their natural aggression, people snapped at each other over imagined and real insults and fights broke out over nothing. Something had to break the tension soon. 

The wind turned, and a faint, coppery smell tickled his nose. He tilted his head and leaned forward, trying to isolate it. Fresh blood. Coming from the direction of the river.

He gave a sharp bark and followed the scent. Jackson, his partner of six months, materialized at his side in seconds. He hadn’t heard or seen him approach. It wasn’t fair that such a huge Wolf could be so silent.

On the bank of the swollen river, Marcus scouted south while Jackson went north, narrowing down the source of the blood. The crisp after-a-rain air made it easier than normal to pick out individual scents. His nose took him to the remains of two dead birds, but nothing bleeding.

Jackson’s deep, growling bark signaled he’d found something and it was serious. 

***

“W
e can’t just leave her there,” Marcus said. “She’ll die.” He’d shifted into human form, both to make it easier to communicate and because it was easier to manipulate objects when he had hands.

Jackson walked over to a tree and lifted his hind leg to urinate, making his opinion clear.

“I don’t care if it’s against the pact. I’m going.”

Jackson sat and pawed at an ear. It was hard to argue with a man who wouldn’t shift from were form. Marcus climbed a rock outcropping that gave him a view north.

At a sharp bend in the river, a woman sprawled facedown, motionless, half in and half out of the water. Tangled brown hair was plastered to her head, a black pack was a lump on her back, and her arms were outstretched, as if she’d used the last of her energy to throw herself out of the grip of the river. The light, crisp scent underlying the blood and sweat confirmed it was a woman. It had none of the muskiness of a man.

A half-drowned female was unusual, but he normally wouldn’t think twice about helping her. As it was, she posed a huge problem on two fronts. She lay about twenty feet over the territory line, in Cat territory. He’d have to cross the border to help her, which might not have been a bad thing, if she were a Cat. She wasn’t.