by Franks, LE
Sawyer could feel the tiny hairs at the back of his neck prickle. His delusions were getting more complicated.... What were the symptoms of schizophrenia?
The hallucination continued. “There are old stories about the making of the world. And the mating between the ancient peoples and the animal mages. It’s not so different from many of the oral traditions found in the indigenous tribes across the Americas....” He trailed off. “That’s not... never mind. What’s important for you to know is this hidden kingdom is populated by humans that share a soul with their animal counterparts. And because of this, they have the ability to change forms at will.”
Sawyer stopped listening. Maybe becoming delusional and slipping away in the dark wouldn’t be so bad... maybe it wouldn’t even hurt when—
“...and I’m one of them. A shifter. I’ve been with you for a while now.”
Sawyer could barely understand the words, like this naked fantasy was speaking an alien tongue. There was another long pause while his delusion stared intently at him from his perch.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Are you listening? What you saw is real. I am real. And I’m here to help you.” He smacked the side of the trunk with an open palm, frustration apparently easily translated to the phantasmagorical. “You made me swear, dammit! Look. I get it. You have no reason to believe me when I say I’m really real. I am both an adorable squirrel and a cranky human. So let’s try this another way....”
Sawyer sat stunned, watching as his hallucination disappeared in another bright spark only to be replaced by the russet squirrel. If he’d thought the little rodent had an attitude before, it was nothing compared to this. The red squirrel crawled out onto a nearby branch and chittered at him before disappearing down the trunk.
This wasn’t possible.
The creature hadn’t been gone for more than a few seconds, no more than half a minute, before the ginger-haired man appeared below, balancing on a boulder.
Sawyer had no trouble spotting his phone, as it was now pressed against the man’s ear. He watched him fiddle with it for another moment, and then the man was gone, except this time when Sawyer looked down, he could see his phone rocking gently in place on top of the rock.
Instead of returning to his branch across from Sawyer, the squirrel crawled over his leg, dropping a long, white string in his lap. Sawyer picked up the earbuds he kept plugged into his phone, running the wires through his fingers like a modern version of worry beads.
“I’m sorry, but it really is broken.” The softness was back, along with the man.
“You’re a squirrel.” Sawyer couldn’t fight it anymore. Hallucination or storybook character—either way he didn’t have much to lose.
“I’m a shifter, but yes, my animal is a red squirrel.” There was sympathy in those deep brown eyes.
“You’re what... like, a werewolf or something?” Sawyer held his breath. He wasn’t a fan of weird or unexplainable. He was a scientist.
“Look, can we start again?” His face shone with an earnest light, and Sawyer felt himself nod slowly. “My name is Jamie Scott, and I live with a clan of big cat shifters. As a matter of fact, you already met one today....” He trailed off, and Sawyer felt a surge of rage threaten to erupt from his throat.
“You mean that feline bastard was....”
“Kevin. Yes.” Jamie looked grave and annoyed.
“Kevin,” Sawyer said flatly. “I got chased halfway to hell by a mountain lion named Kevin. Lovely.” In this new reality existed a squirrel named Jamie that he’d love to spend more time with, and a mountain lion named Kevin that needed to be neutered—manually.
“Are there any others I should know about? Anyone else about to come bounding from the forest to make an attempt on my life?”
“I have five other big cat roommates up here, actually. But the rest of them have careers. Kevin is the only one besides me still in school. The rest don’t bother pranking me so much anymore. They’re just baseball-loving douchebags during the season.”
He said it so matter-of-factly that Sawyer was finally convinced that Jamie, at least, was real. Nowhere in his subconscious could he have put together a bunch of shape-shifting big cat baseball super fans and their roommate, the extraordinarily hot squirrel shifter.
“Can I see it again?”
“The shift?” Jamie smiled at him. “Don’t blink.”
Sawyer hadn’t. At least he was fairly certain he hadn’t, but it looked the same as before—just a quick spark and Jamie was gone, replaced by a cute red squirrel. He was adorable in this form. There was no other word for it.
Chapter Eight
Jamie couldn’t feel his toes. Which was a problem for him—they needed to get out of this tree before dark.
“Look, Sawyer?” He wanted to get the blond’s attention focused on their current goal—safely climbing out of this pine—and away from the scientific wonderment of potentially discovering a new species. He’d already had to remind him several times that there was nothing left to “discover.” Shifters had been around and known to the right people for eons... and wouldn’t he like to know which elected official could lick his own balls?
That had been fun. For a minute. It was an improvement over the whole “you’re not real” mantra Sawyer had started out chanting.
He began again. “I mapped out a route to get you out of here, but you’re going to need to trust me. A lot. The first thing you’re going to do is stand up and move to a branch on the other side of the trunk.
“I... I don’t think so.” Sawyer’s eyes were wide, and he shook his head.
“I’ll be standing just below you.” Jamie pointed to a six-inch stub of a limb jutting out from the trunk. It was an old break; the tree had already sealed the damage in pitch.
“You can’t support yourself on that, much less me if I fall.” Sawyer’s chin jutted slightly, making no sign he would be following Jamie’s directions anytime soon.
A shudder went through him, and Jamie noticed that the goose bumps that had appeared not long after his last shift had turned into shivers. He didn’t have much time to spare on wooing Sawyer off his perch.
“One of the things about shifters that I haven’t mentioned before is that we’re stronger and faster than similarly sized humans. I can hold your dead weight dangling from one hand, but let’s not test that—okay? I’m just going to wait here on this little stub until you get settled on the next branch. We’ll go from there, one step at a time.”
He could tell Sawyer wasn’t convinced. He could see him put his obvious intelligence to work for a change, much to Jamie’s regret. And when the question came, it wasn’t unexpected.
“Why can’t you just don your little fur coat and run down the mountain for help? I’ll wait here.”
“A couple of things. One—I’m particularly vulnerable at this time of day. There are many predators, large and small, that would find me an appetizing meal. The closest help is hours away, and frankly I don’t think either of us have that kind of time when I can get you safely on the ground in minutes, so get up on your branch and get ready to move, and I’ll make sure you’re secure.”
“You said a couple of things. What’s the other?”
Sawyer hadn’t changed position, except maybe in his jaw, which seemed a little more firmly set. Jamie glanced over his shoulder and watched as the ball of sun slid from view behind the far canyon wall. It would be twilight soon.
“There is no other. That’s it. You want saving? Well, I’m here. But it’s going to be getting dark, and if you don’t want to spend the night up here—alone, I might add—you need to screw on a bigger set of balls and work with me.”
“You seemed nicer before.”
“You thought I was a figment of your imagination before. Obviously you have a very high opinion of yourself, so that would make sense.”
Jamie tried for a light teasing tone, trying to cajole Sawyer into moving, while surreptitiously warming first one set of fingers in the crease of his a
rmpit and then the other. The shivering was getting worse as the temperature continued to drop.
“Okay. I can do this.” Sawyer had balanced himself in a crouch atop his branch. Progress.
“Yes, you can.” Jamie nodded. He stepped onto the tree stub and balanced on one foot, holding out his hand to Sawyer. “Just reach around the trunk until you feel my hand. The branch is maybe eighteen inches away and a foot down. I’m going to swing you over once I have you.”
“You won’t let me fall?” Jamie felt Sawyer’s clammy palm slide into his.
“Nope. This is a piece of cake. We’re just sliding you around the trunk. Easy peasy.”
“Easy peasy? Are you kidding me?” Sawyer laughed, a little distracted, as Jamie had hoped, because in the next breath he was gripping Sawyer’s wrist and swinging him down to the adjacent tree limb.
“Fuck!” Sawyer looked a little green, choking out the panic in ragged gasps. “You should have warned me, you ass!”
“Naw, you would have been all stiff, and it would have thrown off my balance. This way was better.”
“For you, maybe....”
“For us,” Jamie reassured him. “Look down now.” Jamie knew what Sawyer would see. Just a small change in perspective could do wonders.
“Whoa. That’s... good, right?” Sawyer peered down to where a natural ladder of sorts had been formed by the pine boughs on the far side of the tree.
“I’m not going to lie. There’s a hairy piece in the middle that I’m going to have to lower you down to, and there’s nothing the last twelve feet. I can dangle you low enough so when you drop, the fall won’t kill you. Maybe you’re looking at a bruised ass, but better that than getting blown off a tree and falling five hundred feet to the canyon floor.”
There wasn’t much chitchat after that, which was good. Jamie’s teeth were chattering, so it was easier to keep his jaw clenched and answer most of Sawyer’s running commentary with grunts. As he’d pointed out to Sawyer, once they got moving, the route was obvious, and with Jamie in the lead guiding Sawyer’s hands and feet or just keeping hold of an ankle when it came to the blind drops, it was almost easy.
Until it wasn’t.
Chapter Nine
He made Jamie repeat his words. “You’re going to hang on to my wrist, and I’m going to lower you down, and once you’re close, I’m going to swing you like I did earlier and you’re going to grab the trunk and let go, dropping onto that limb down there.”
Sawyer wasn’t an idiot. It felt good to get moving—great, even—but this? This was one thing too much. He couldn’t believe that redheaded idiot dreamed this up. It was the sort of maneuver that belonged in a circus, not a forest. Talk about your squirrel brain.
“Nope. There has to be another way.”
“There isn’t. Really, I wish there was.”
Sawyer could see it was true; Jamie looked like he was sorry, and he probably did wish himself away. It was quite something what Jamie was doing for him—a stranger—risking his secrets, trying his best to help him, staying by his side ever since he’d run across him....
He took a moment and really looked at Jamie. They were nearly sharing the same limb for a change, Jamie still without a stitch of clothing to protect his skin from the abrasive bark and sharp needles of the Jeffrey pine. In the gloom Jamie’s eyes were hooded, and in his crouched position he looked inhuman. And, Sawyer guessed, he really was.
“You shouldn’t be here. I mean, it’s great that you came, and you’ve done a lot already... but you shouldn’t suffer any more for your roommate’s actions or my mistakes in climbing up here. I can make it until you get home and call the ranger station. Seriously—”
Jamie interrupted him. “I can’t. Let’s just leave it at that and finish this.” “Why can’t you?” Sawyer needed to understand. In answer, Jamie ran a hand through his hair, then held it out to Sawyer, who took it.
It was like ice.
“Are you okay?”
The redhead pulled away and stood, looking off into the gloaming. His balance was astonishing, no wobbling or jerking as he rose, just liquid grace, and with his erect bearing, his arms crossed against his chest, and every sinew and muscle on display under milky white skin, he looked like a statue carved from marble.
Sawyer found himself drawn back to his earlier comparison of Jamie as fae—he was certainly otherworldly in this moment. His complexion was almost blue in the twilight, deepening to azure in the shadowed planes of his back and the dip of his buttocks and the line of his thighs as he turned away.
And if he’d lost his head, forgetting for just a moment that he was high above the forest in a tree, no one would blame him for the impulse to step up to Jamie and wrap his arms around him to hold him close and chase away the demons that seemed to be tormenting him.
And while that scenario was only likely in a fantasy, he did have some power of his own.
“I’m ready.” Sawyer felt his gut freeze, cognizant of the terrifying reality formed by his words. He might be able to do this for Jamie, but he would do this for himself.
Jamie turned to him with a gentle smile, and Sawyer pretended he didn’t see the tremble in Jamie’s hands when he reached for him.
Chapter Ten
Jamie tried to ignore the bark digging painfully into the backs of his knees as he hung awkwardly upside down, Sawyer dangling from the end of his right arm as he used his left as a brace against tree.
“You good?” he called down to the blond, who looked frankly terrified. Not that Jamie blamed him. If Sawyer knew how close Jamie was to the end of his rope, he’d freak.
“Good!” Sawyer squeaked back.
The shivering had stopped, and now a creeping fatigue had settled in. Jamie had maybe one or two good bursts of strength in him before he was done. If that happened before he got them both on the ground... well, it wouldn’t be pretty.
“Okay, let’s do this!” Without waiting for Sawyer’s response, Jamie channeled all he had into maintaining his hold on Sawyer’s dead weight while swinging him into the trunk, praying that he’d stick the landing. It was going to be up to the other man to make this work since Jamie had a face full of pine needles.
“Got it!” The words came as Sawyer’s hand slipped from his grasp, and he listened for the sound of the man’s landing on the stout limb below.
He didn’t have enough strength to follow Sawyer down immediately. His arms tingled and his shoulders ached, and the muscles of his thighs still burned from the strain. Jamie sucked in another bellyful of air, letting his body hang upside down from the branch to recover.
“Hey, Jamie, you coming?” Sawyer was almost giddy in success— already working his way down through the thick pine boughs to the last of the low sturdy branches—just a few more feet and he’d be stuck until Jamie was ready for the final drop.
“Coming!” He mustered up the will to pull it together, and with a final breath, he leaped into space, aiming for the limb he’d slung Sawyer over to. From there it was a quick climb down to where the other man waited.
“Happy?” He couldn’t help asking. Sawyer’s eyes sparkled in the low light, and he was sporting a huge grin.
“Oh, ecstatic, man. Fucking fantastic.” He bobbed his head in emphasis. “I could even jump from here, and it wouldn’t freak me out... not like it was up there.” He thumbed back toward his perch near the top.
“Yeah, well... I wouldn’t recommend it. You can still break an ankle or crack your skull, and then all you’d be good for is bear tartare.”
“That sounds wrong,” Sawyer mused.
“Trust me, it is. Those brutes will eat anything. Even biologists.”
“Botanist, actually.” Sawyer grinned. “Much cooler than the biology majors. Fewer things to cut up.”
They lingered for another moment in the chill until Jamie felt another wave of fatigue crash against him. “Let’s do this. You ready?”
Though Jamie spoke his words out loud to Sawyer, the question was more
for him, and he wasn’t sure about the answer, but it was too late to delay much longer—he wouldn’t put it past Sawyer to jump on his own, ankles or skull be damned.
“Last time, man. Can’t say this hasn’t been a blast.” Jamie grunted with the effort of guiding Sawyer as far as he could reach alongside the tree trunk. “Try to slide down the trunk, not that I’ll be doing it myself—I can’t imagine bark rash in my junk would be pleasant.”
“Thanks, man! Oh, hell....” Sawyer slipped away on his own, scrambling down the tree until an ill-placed bough knocked him off about six feet from the ground.
Well, there’s that done.
“All good!” And it was. Sawyer was jumping and whooping, spinning in place in the middle of the trail.
“You know,” Jamie called down to him, enjoying the show, “if you were a shifter, I’d peg you as a golden retriever!”
Sawyer just laughed.
Chapter Eleven
Golden retriever. Right.
If he were being honest, Sawyer could see Jamie had a point, which led to a whole other line of speculation: people who resembled animals, either physically or through their actions. Now he’d always wonder. Maybe it was true. Maybe Winston Churchill was a bulldog shifter taking a literal piss on the legs on his enemies.
He wandered over to the cluster of boulders to rescue his battered phone and looked up. Jamie was still standing, half hidden among the pine boughs of his nemesis, the ancient Jeffrey pine. From where he was standing, the tree didn’t look so menacing, not tall compared to the ones around it topping his by a good forty or fifty feet. His tree had a good lean to it—most of its height canted out over the rim on the canyon—so it could have been so much worse, though only by a matter of degrees. According to Newton, the trip to the ground from either pine would be just as fast and deadly, though somewhat longer via canyon floor.