Shifting the Night Away (80 page)

Lane saw the moment in her eyes, the moment all the information he'd just dumped on her came together and made sense. He watched her stop to look at him when he'd finished speaking. He saw her looking at him as though it was all perfectly normal. Then he saw the faintest hint of a furrow on her brow, then the dilation of her pupils, the nearly imperceptible tensing of her frame, and then the overwhelming scent of panic.
 

It was too late. The fear had already wound tightly through her body, sending the chemical signals through her blood that Lane smelled even before Tara reacted, but it was too late. Nothing he could do now would undo the chain of events he'd set into motion. All he could do was stand and wait and see how she would cope with the reaction.

Anger. First, anger. Tara pulled her shoulders back and glared at the man she had spent every moment with for the last week. The man who only moments earlier she had been envisioning spending the rest of her life with or, at least hoping for several more months with.

How could she be so stupid?! How could she let herself think that he might actually have feelings for her? That this was anything more than a casual fling? Ugh! A man like Lane, really! He was every woman's idea of sexy, like
she
would ever have a chance at an actual relationship with a god like him! This was probably some sort of sick bet he had with a friend, could he get the fat girl to fall for him? Or maybe it was revenge sex. Yeah, that was probably it. He'd probably started his hike with one of those blonde goddesses, they'd had a fight and she'd gone home so he was hooking up with the chubby girl so he could go home and throw it in his girlfriend's face.
 

A million thoughts raced through her mind. All kinds of scenarios that led to this beautiful man hiking with her and fucking her everyday. Fucking her over, that was more like it.
Goddamn it! Why don't men think fat girls have feelings too? Do they really not give a shit about that? Do they really think we're so fucking desperate...
Tara was ready to start yelling.
She was going to start screaming, her eyes scanned the ground at her feet for a rock to throw at him like he was some stray dog to shoo away from her when the next round of thoughts slammed into her brain and her body went rigid.

Fear. Abject terror.
Holy shit. He thinks he's a werewolf. Right? That's what he's been babbling about all morning.
More details from his story started to coalesce in her mind now, "born in the 1800s...extermination program to get rid of the wolves...could have any territory...no wolves at all now...pack...alpha...pack...alpha...wolves..." Tara felt a faint trembling in her muscles as she stood there. He'd said he'd met his wife in the 70's. That would make him like, 30 years older than her. Shit, how had she missed all that?

Because you wanted to fantasize about playing house, that's why.
She chastised herself. She was still standing still, her eyes locked on his while he stared at her simply, waiting for her reaction. Her situation suddenly dawned on her, she was standing on a lesser traveled trail at the tail end of the hiking season in the Sierra Nevada mountain range in an area where it would take a strong hiker more than a day to get to a town. With a madman. A madman who she'd been intimate with. A madman who she had been happily sharing her personal information for the last several days.
 

The thoughts raced through her mind at a lightening pace. Lane was physically bigger than she was, he was stronger and faster, it was going to be difficult to outrun him especially in this terrain. If he really thought he was a werewolf and that she was his intended mate--
shit! what did that mean exactly?
For one thing, it meant he might not be willing to just let her walk away.
 

Tara stood up straight and squared her shoulders, jutting her chin out and narrowing her eyes defiantly, "Lane." She said his name simply, keeping her voice as calm as she could muster, "I appreciate that you trust me enough to share your story with me but I think I'm going to continue on from here on my own. OK?" She slowly began to back away from him.
 

Lane felt a crushing, breaking sensation move through his body. He watched her backing slowly away, he heard the mocking in her voice, he smelled the fear in her blood. His mind raced through the morning's events, trying to snatch at pieces of the past as if he could take them back and rearrange them, but while his mind raced, his body stood stoically in place, watching Tara back away.
 

He knew it was a crazy story. He had told it too fast, too excited to share all of himself with her. Too eager to turn her and make her his mate, to bring her home and introduce her to her new pack, to start a new life and a new family with her.
 

It had been far too long since humans lived knowingly among the shifters. His kind were nothing more than the stuff of legends now, fodder for horror movies and romance novels. He should have gone to the city and found a female werewolf. Someone who would have accepted what he was, it wouldn't even have been an issue. His lifestyle would have though. City bitches weren't likely to leave the extravagance of their human lives to settle in the mountains and live like wolves. Or even come to live with him as a human in the cabin in the tiny rural town.

As Lane's heart broke amidst his consideration of the obstacles that had been facing him, he stood perfectly still and let his terrified destiny slowly move away from him and the life he'd been looking forward to. Even in her fear, she was strong. He couldn't help but admire her for that. Many females would have crumbled in tears before him, begging him not to hurt them, but his Tara had stood up straight and tall and faced him head on. Sending the clear message that she was not going to become a victim. He loved her for that. That was why he had chosen her. She would have been perfect.

Tara finally had put enough distance between them that she felt it was safe to turn and walk away. She headed off the trail, cross-country, hoping to intersect with one of the side trails that would cross in to the national park to the west and take her to back to civilization. She realized she was walking too fast, nearly tripping several times as she continuously looked back over her shoulder to make sure Lane wasn't following her. She could feel the blisters forming on her heels from her careless footing but she kept her pace up, trying to put as much distance between her and the biggest mistake she'd ever made as possible before sunset.
 

Lane watched her turn around finally and pick up her pace. He let her disappear from sight before making a move. First he paced back and forth in a tight pattern, head down, hands pulling at his thick, dark curls, desperately trying to think of a way to get Tara back.
 

Maybe he could convince her it had been a joke? He could make it up to her, go back to the city with her, live a human life with her. Diego would take care of the pack. He could stay with Tara in her world. Eventually she might come to accept his wolf, or he could keep it from her if she wasn't able to come to terms with it.
 

He didn't care anymore. All he cared about was not losing Tara. And, even if that was the way it was meant to be, he had to make sure she made it back safely.
 

He knew she was capable and confident, but she'd taken off off-trail in a heightened state of fear. Other animals would be able to smell that on her.
 

Lane looked up at the granite walls of the surrounding mountains, he saw the crags and the crevices and the rocky overhangs. He knew there would be bears as she moved lower in elevation. He also knew there would be cats. Without another thought, Lane shifted in mid-step, landing on front paws that were already running by the time they hit the ground.

Tara stumbled downhill, the mountain scenery around her a blur as she kept her pace up, stopping only occasionally to listen for the sound of Lane following her. She never heard anything. She seemed completely alone but she didn't trust that sense. It was too easy.
 

For starters, the man she'd been falling in love with over the last week would never leave her to wander off on her own. He would have wanted to keep an eye on her, make sure she was safe. And the man she'd just been introduced to-- the one who thought he was a werewolf-- might be unbalanced enough to try to stalk her. The thought that he might follow her, try to sneak up on her, try to-- what? What does a werewolf do, exactly?
 

Tara tried to recall all the information she had on werewolves. Mostly from late night horror movies. All she really knew was that if you survived a werewolf attack, you became one. And the full moon, right? Like, you stayed human except when there was a full moon and then you couldn't help but turn into a wolf and go on a rampage and kill your neighbors.

What the fuck?
Tara was holding on to her anger. As long as she stayed mad, it didn't hurt. It didn't seem as crazy or as scary or as... empty. Anger kept her from focusing on the loss, the feeling of betrayal, the what might have been. She had been prepared for Lane to make some excuse to part ways at the end of the trail. It wasn't like she expected to live happily ever after or something.
But WEREWOLF! Holy shit!
She sure as hell hadn't seen that coming.

How had he expected her to react? Like he was just going to tell her some ridiculous story about being over a hundred years old and leaving California because of the hunters.
Hunters?
Tara's brain found some new information on werewolves that she'd had stashed away in her memory,
Aren't werewolves immortal? Like, why would he have been worried about hunters?
She suddenly felt vindicated, see?
His story was completely crazy. Werewolves can't die.
 

She silently congratulated herself on winning the debate. She also laughed at herself for having an imaginary debate over whether or not there was such a thing as werewolves, then laughed again that the winning argument was based on old B-movies. Maybe she should stop worrying about the lifespans of imaginary creatures and start concentrating on her footing. She hadn't been keeping track of time, but now she noticed that the sun had made significant progress to the west and she still hadn't met up with a trail.

Tara stopped again to listen. Nothing but birds and wind. It would be absolutely breathtaking out here if she wasn't running away from a crazy man, and if she had any fucking clue where she was or how long it would be before she found her bearings on the map again.
 

As she looked up toward the next jagged cliff side she would need to go around she felt the ground move out from under her foot. She looked down in time to see the rock rolling out from under her as her ankle turned inward and the ground came up to eye level in slow motion.

Hitting the ground wasn't too bad although she was pretty sure she was going to have a heck of bruise on her knee for awhile. The hard part was rolling over and slipping the backpack off her shoulders before she could sit up and assess the damage. As Tara sat folded up in the stickers among the rocks and weeds, massaging her ankle and watching the blood ooze out of her scraped knee it all finally came down on her. The full weight of the week's events, from her first sight of Lane on the ferry dock, to their first time together, to this last week of hiking and laughing and lovemaking, right up to this morning and his crazy story to now. This minute. Sitting on the ground in the middle of nowhere and not a soul on earth knew where she was.

Tara let the tears flow freely. She told herself that it was because of the twisted ankle and the skinned knee, but she knew it was because it was all just too much to process in such a short time. She let her forehead fall against her knee and let the tears stream down.

She didn't know how long she had been sitting there. She raised her head and looked up as soon as she heard it, just a little rustling noise then a soft thud. The sound was so soft she wouldn't have heard it at all if she'd still been moving. Something in her surroundings was off, she didn't know what it was, but she was suddenly very aware of her position. She jumped to her feet and grabbed the pack off the ground, her swollen ankle nearly collapsing under her.
 

As she swung her pack onto her shoulders she saw movement off to the side near the granite wall. Still, it took her a moment to focus on the dark outline of the big cat in the growing shadows of the cliff walls only a few yards away.

Tara froze in place as the shape started to make sense to her. This was no skittish bobcat that would hightail it away from her as soon as she moved. This was one hell of a big cat. Beautiful deep caramel colored fur pouring over thickly muscled shoulders and back, hunched down with its head low, its eyes locked onto her. Its paws were as big as soccer balls. Maybe bigger. Its long tail thick like rope from a shipyard, hanging behind it, tensed as though the creature could use it as a lasso if it was so inclined.