Greyriver Shifters

by Kristina Weaver

  “It’s okay, hun. I know I’m being a baby here, but these attacks have seriously freaked everyone out. Even Logan is paranoid about going to work and leaving me alone—even though he’s made more than enough provision to see that I’m safe.”

  She sighs, nodding as she lays a loving hand on her belly and looks off into the distance with a sadness we all feel lately.

  “I can’t believe old man Rutherford died. I prayed every night that he’d make it, and Althea was so hopeful when he woke up that one time.”

  I feel her pain because it hit us all hard. I didn’t know that old man, but the way he was attacked was just brutal. No one deserves to be hurt that way.

  He was found in his kitchen, unconscious and barely breathing, his face and eyes so swollen the doctors had to pry his eyelids open to check him out.

  He was out for a full twenty-four hours before coming around and calling his mate’s name before he blacked out again. Three hours later, he was dead, not even the rapid healing in his blood able to save him.

  I will never forget the scream of anguish that echoed through town when they told his mate Ginger, nor will I forget the look on Logan’s face when it happened.

  I even felt terrible enough for Bear to take his hand and give it a squeeze, his desolation tearing at my heart. Seeing him that way, both of them, two strong males who were beaten and hopeless at the loss they’d tried to prevent was hard.

  I cried for an hour in the bath, muffling my sobs from Logan against the towel I clutched to my chest because it hit me hard then…what if something happens to someone I love? Even Bear.

  I can’t handle that, and the longer this goes on the worse we all get. Tension is high. Everyone is afraid and angry at once, the Alpha’s inability to protect the pack stirring up anger in the people.

  And through it all, I am stuck praying for the men and that something happens before everything falls.

  “Logan hardly sleeps anymore and works so much I don’t see him until daybreak. Not that I’m afraid because I think I’ve seen one of the guys patrolling outside the house every night.”

  Gretchen snorts and rolls her eyes, her natural humor coming to the fore at my words.

  “Flame thinks I don’t see his brother Grey standing in the woods at night or doing a search of the property.”

  I grunt, agreeing, because I’ve even seen Bear out there a time or two, setting up motion sensors that Logan had to take down again because the wildlife keep setting them off.

  I heard Banner say they had a huge argument about that one—with Bear growling that it needs to stay, while Logan snarled that he had to get up five times in one night to shut the damn things off.

  He was lying of course. The first time it happened, I watched him stomp out in nothing but a pair of boxers and rip them apart. Then, he warned Bear not to put the soles of his boots on his land again.

  The next night the idiot showed up as a black wolf, and I laughed so hard I almost peed myself. Wily wolf.

  “Anyway, we’re almost there, and then we can go back to Logan’s and you can satisfy my craving. At this point, I’d take one damn berry to stop this kid from bugging me. He’s gonna be just like his stubborn father.”

  “He?” I ask, my spine tingling with the awareness that we’re being watched.

  I’ve had the sensation since stepping out on the back porch, and it’s getting stronger with every step we take. Shaking myself of my paranoia, I listen to Gretchen confess that she found out on the sly that she’s having a boy and that Flame doesn’t know.

  I am so happy for her I hug her briefly before continuing on, shivering when another twig snaps in the distance.

  We get to the hallowed wild berries ten minutes later with Gretchen puffing and panting only to find two berries, which she scoffs down with a smile. I’m seriously starting to think I will never have a shifter baby if they turn me into a freak…when my nose catches a strange scent seconds before we hear running footsteps.

  “Go Gretchen!” I hiss, grabbing her hand to run because something isn’t right at all.

  We’re out of the wind with the breeze hitting us from behind, so we should have scented someone coming long before now. The fact that we didn’t makes me suspicious and not only that, it makes me think that we were being watched like I thought we were straight out of the house.

  I ignored that feeling, thinking I was being paranoid, but as I grab Gretchen’s hand and run, the sound of something bearing down on us getting louder, I know that I should have heeded my inner voice.

  Gretchen is running as fast as she can, her shifter abilities making her faster than a pregnant human woman would be, but if this is a shifter chasing us, we are so screwed.

  We are running east towards the Silverton place because we’re closer and no way in hell will we make it back to Logan’s without being caught, but the harder we run, the closer this person gets, the sound of steps so close now I let out a scream when I feel breath on my nape.

  Seconds matter here, mere seconds that I know will mean the difference between life or death, but before I can think another thought or draw breath, I feel air coming at me.

  Something hits me in the back, hard, and takes me down to the ground. The impact and added weight slamming me down with so much force I lose my breath and cry out silently when I feel a rib pop under my skin.

  Black spots dance before my eyes, and I blink rapidly to clear my vision just as Gretchen screams and a thud echoes around me.

  “Help!” I yell, the sound high pitched and desperate, the word wheezing out because it’s a cry of fury instead of a breath at this point.

  “Mik—”

  “Gretch? Gretchen? Oh God, don’t hurt her,” I whimper just before something hits my head and everything goes dark.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Meek

  The sound of someone sobbing makes me frown and roll over, my hand shooting out to slap Logan and tell him to shut the hell up and put the television off.

  Damn morning wolves are the bane of my existence.

  When my hand meets something cold and hard I jerk awake, groaning when my head starts pounding and my vision blurs before clearing. What I see makes my heart stop right before it starts beating hard enough to hurt my chest and restrict my breathing.

  Gretchen is curled on her side beside me, her hands clutching at her rounded belly, as she sobs and hiccups quietly, biting into her lip until it bleeds.

  My head hurts so bad my stomach churns, but I force myself to ignore it as I turn my head to look around, the roughhewn walls surrounding us wet in the low light of a lamp that is high in the rough ceiling.

  A door stops my search, and I wince when I see through a small barred window that there’s someone out there in the gloom, someone tall and broad enough that all I see is chest.

  “Mika?” Gretchen whispers, her voice so low I have to scoot over to press my ear against her mouth. “We’re in deep trouble.”

  “I know,” I whisper back, swallowing bile when she clutches her stomach and moans. “Shit Gretchen, are you okay?”

  “No. Yes. Oh, I don’t know. I think I bruised my stomach when that idiot took me down. I tried to turn on impact, but he was so big I only managed to twist enough not to fall directly on junior.”

  Oh fucking hell. This is bad. Gretchen and the baby could be hurt, and I am not better, I think, as I feel something dry and sticky caked in my hair on down the left side of my face.

  “Did you see anything?”

  “No. The thing that took me down shoved a sack over my face before I could look. You?”

  “Knocked me out. What about scent?”

  “Nothing. I tried, but there’s something wrong with the scent on him. I can’t tell what it is, but it’s masking it and confusing my nose. At first I thought bear because of the size, but there was no roar at all. Most bears roar or grunt.”

  Which is not really helpful because he could be pretending or purposely fooling us.

  “Wha
t are we going to do, Mika? I wasn’t out for long, and you’ve been out for hours. I hear water nearby, so that means we’re at least as far as the lake. They could use the water to mask their trail and the males won’t be able to track us.”

  I know, I think, gritting my teeth when she sniffles and curls closer, her shoulders shaking as she tries not to fall apart and show weakness. This is not good, at all, and the chances of us getting out of here are even worse.

  This is the first time they’ve taken anyone instead of hurting or killing them, so I have the feeling we’re in deep shit. It’s also not a good sign that they’re willing to hurt a pregnant female, where Logan once told me that shifters take the life of young very seriously.

  If they don’t care about harming Gretchen and the baby, it’s safe to say they won’t hesitate to kill us all.

  Rolling away to get to my feet, I tiptoe to the door and try to get a sniff of the guard, my nose picking up something that my mind can’t pinpoint. Logan, hearing that I had trouble identifying Barbie’s species got some friends from surrounding counties to send a piece of cloth or clothes so that he could teach me the difference.

  I now know almost every breed scent I can think of—except Siberian Tiger, but Logan assured me I wouldn’t ever run into one this close to the Canadian border.

  Don’t ask because I don’t know the logic in that either.

  This scent is strange, as if it’s been altered somehow. I pick up faint traces of wolf, but then again that could be the lingering scent from either me or Gretchen.

  I don’t smell anything else that I can identify, so I listen instead, and just as Gretchen said, I hear water running nearby. No, not running water, I think, but rain.

  Briefly, I think about maybe causing a storm to lead them to us, for surely they didn’t bring us too far from where they took us, but after long minutes of concentration, I have to admit defeat and assume that the thick walls of what I think may be a cave have blocked my ability.

  “Oh God.”

  I whip around at the sound of that moan to see Gretchen curled up into a ball, her legs flush with her belly as she grits her teeth and groans.

  “Gretchen?”

  “I feel sick.”

  “Sick how?” I ask worriedly, going to my knees beside her to cradle her head in my lap.

  “Like I’m going to puke. And my head hurts. One of them hit me when I woke up and started struggling. I think I have a concussion.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief, thanking God that I don’t have to deliver a premature baby in the bowels of the earth with nefarious villains standing just steps away from us.

  Concussion and nausea are not good for a pregnant woman, but at least her healing should take care of that. I hope. As for me, I took blood five days ago and haven’t said anything to Logan since because he’s been dead on his feet as it is.

  That means I’m not at my best, possibly another factor that is impeding my storm ability and stopping this bump on my head from healing the way it should.

  I am weak, slower, and definitely in no condition to be fighting anyone off. God, I hope I don’t have to, I think, stroking Gretchen’s hair with trembling hands.

  “You just rest and let yourself heal. Don’t worry, Gretchen. Once Flame and Logan know we’re gone, they’ll come looking.”

  “But what if they can’t find us? Oh Mika, I am so sorry. This is all my fault,” she whispers, crying silently while I stroke her head and try to give her reassurance.

  “Nonsense! If they were coming for us anyway, they’d have still got to us in the house.”

  “Yes, but I was the one who left the phones at home because I didn’t want Flame to see that we were leaving. If we were at Logan’s, we’d have stood a chance.”

  True, but I can’t exactly tell a concussed pregnant woman that we’re probably going to die if we can’t get out of here. I know enough from Logan that these people are nearly like ghosts and impossible to track.

  “Or we’d have been trapped in the house and still been taken. Don’t focus on that, Gretchen. We need to focus on getting out of here together and running for home. Can you do that for me?”

  She sniffles, swallowing her tears, and firms her jaw, nodding determinedly.

  “Good. Now I want you to listen to me, Gretchen. If anyone comes in here and tries to take us, you get behind me and stay safe. I don’t want you getting hurt. All we need to do is hold out as long as we can, so the guys have time to come for us.”

  My firm tone and expression convey strength, and I see Gretchen smile slightly before she nods and dries her eyes.

  “Okay. Yes. We just have to stay strong and stay alive and they’ll find us.”

  I nod, keeping my own fear buried deep, and pull Gretchen to the side near a wall, sitting with my back pressed to the rock and letting her rest on my lap.

  It’s not comfortable for either of us, but there’s nothing else to do but get as comfortable as possible and wait for something to happen. I pray to God that the something isn’t bad.

  Another hour passes, and I sigh when I glance down at the watch Logan bought me last week, my superior vision helping me see the hands in the dark even with the non-existent light coming from the lamp.

  It’s around nine at night now so that means we’ve been gone for a good nine hours. Not good. Logan would have called around two to check in, and when I didn’t answer, he would have gone home to see why. That means they’ve known we’re missing for a good six or seven hours at least without finding us.

  Shit.

  Another twenty minutes tick by slowly, and I feel Gretchen shiver as she curls tighter. It’s getting colder now, and with only sweaters to ward off the chill, I know we’re in danger of suffering some sort of exposure down here.

  Ignoring my own shivers, I remove my sweater and lay it over her to ward off the chill and keep her comfortable. She’s been out for a good hour, and I want her to sleep longer before she realizes how screwed we are and breaks down.

  When a clang comes from the door, I pray Gretchen stays out and slowly lower her head to the floor, crouching in front of her protectively when it opens.

  A large man stands there, his size and the muscular look of his body letting me know that he is definitely not human. He’s as big as Bear and broad in the chest—though that is all I can see since he’s wearing a mask that doesn’t let me see anything.

  Over his eyes are shades, and I get the impression he doesn’t want my seeing them because I could identify his breed from them. Surely, if he is afraid to show me, he doesn’t mean to kill us.

  The small hope flares bright, and I keep my breathing even when he lifts a hand and motions for me to come.

  “Wake your friend.”

  “Please, let her sleep. She’s not well, and the baby—”

  “Wake her or I will,” he snarls.

  Shaking, I lay a trembling hand on Gretchen and shake softly, shushing her when she rolls over with a jerk.

  “Shh, it’s okay. We need to get up and go with this guy. Don’t freak, Gretch. Remember the young,” I say, using the shifter term to calm her.

  She obeys, taking my hand for my help, and stands behind me, remaining silent.

  “Come! You’re wasting my time.”

  We follow slowly, blinking and staring around when he leads us a short way down a tunnel to an opening that leads into a bigger cavern. I smell soil and foliage, so that must mean we’re near an entrance of some sort.

  If we’re that close to the outside, then maybe we can run. I am not too jazzed with that thought with the condition Gretchen is in, but at least it’s a chance.

  The man stops as soon as we’re in the middle and shoves Gretchen into a chair, slapping her when she moans and tries to stand.

  “You stay there and do not make a sound, or I will hurt her more. Understand?”

  I gulp, watch her nod, and flinch when he comes towards me and shoves me onto a stool in the middle, walking around me as he looks me over.
>
  “You’re not fully human.”

  “No.”

  “Why? Where is your mate?”

  Another gulp follows his snarl, and I tense when he leans in to sniff loudly.

  “I smell two males on you. Why?”

  “Uh, my mate, er, didn’t want a mating, so he left me. I live with another male who took me in,” I say hesitantly, keeping him in my line of sight when he walks around behind me, touching my hair where blood is caked in the strands.

  “This is not natural.”

  “But legal. We aren’t forced to mate someone we don’t want.”

  That seems to enrage him, and the next minute, he’s got a chunk of hair caught in his tight grip and pulls my head back so hard my neck screams in pain.

  “Stop! Don’t hurt her!” Gretchen sobs, her panic ringing out clearly when he leans his face closer and hisses threateningly.

  There are sharp teeth under that mask, I just know it. I’ve seen the men spar and go into a slight shift, their claws and teeth getting sharper and longer, so they can fight properly.

  This man hasn’t extended his claws yet, but I know that if he wants to hurt me, and it seems he does, he will rip me to shreds with them.

  “I warned you to stay still or I hurt her.”

  A hand slams into my face, his grip on my hair stopping my head from reeling back, which makes the force that much harder. My head rings, dizziness assailing me, and I cry out when Gretchen whimpers and goes still.

  “Good. You move again, and I will just repeat. As for you, you are an abomination. No respectable female would take another male to her bed if she is rejected. It is her place to wait and hope that he wants her eventually.”