“Where?”
“How about my arm?”
Leaning forward, she jabbed at him, her fist meeting solid muscle. From the look Jet gave her, she suspected that he’d hardly felt it.
“You’re pulling away at the last second,” he said. “You need to follow through. Hit me like you plan to punch all the way through me.”
Sylvia swallowed, her throat dry. Maybe she should have thought this through more. Maybe she shouldn’t have tried to learn to fight at all. It would have been far better to just keep running.
“Hit me,” Jet said. “You can do it.”
She screwed her eyes shut, preparing to punch him, when a voice cut through the calmness of the meadow.
“What’s going on here?”
Sylvia opened her eyes. It was Rowan, who had been so upset over the marks on her arm. Slowly, Sylvia pulled her sleeve down past her hand.
“It’s not any of your business, is it, Rowan?” Jet’s eyes flashed. “You should leave, unless you want private lessons yourself.”
“So hostile.” Rowan shook her head in distaste. “I was just passing through, but I might be able to help.”
Sylvia narrowed her eyes. Why would Rowan want to help her?
“Look,” Rowan said, addressing Sylvia directly, “it’s obvious that something terrible is after you, isn’t it? I’m sorry that I assumed the worst happened, but… that’s what tends to happen with them, isn’t it?”
“What are you talking about?” Jet asked sharply.
This didn’t look like it was going to end well, but it wasn’t like she could hide. Face burning, Sylvia pulled up her sleeve and fumbled with the bandage.
“No, don’t take it off,” Rowan said gently. “It needs to heal.”
“What needs to heal?” Jet sounded like he was at the edge of his patience.
“Vampire bite. On her arm.”
Slowly, Jet turned to stare at her. Sylvia felt her face heat. It must be crimson by now. Would he command her to leave?
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softly.
Looking into his eyes, she found only concern. It would have been much less strange to find anger.
“She needs a teacher, Jet.”
“And what do you think I’m trying to do?”
Rowan moved closer. “You’re teaching her how to punch. You think that’s going to be effective against vampires, or anything else trying to come after her? She’s a stick. Her punches wouldn’t hurt a rabbit.”
“I’m not afraid to fight.” Sylvia faced her, in the stance Jet had taught her. She wasn’t going to let Rowan keep her from being able to make a stand.
“You should be, if there’s a vampire hunting you.” Rowan glanced over as Jet growled darkly. “It’ll do no good to pretend she’s not in danger. And the pack is only as strong as our weakest member—is that not one of your favorite sayings, Alpha?”
Jet glowered at her.
“I’m not part of your pack, though.” Sylvia could see she was causing trouble. “I’ll go soon enough.”
“While you sleep in our den, you’re part of our pack,” Rowan said firmly. “And don’t think I’m insulting you by calling you a stick. You won’t be forever, but muscles aren’t built in one season. And the first lesson in fighting is to stick to your strengths.”
Sylvia couldn’t help the words from tumbling out. “I don’t have any strengths.”
“Wrong.” Rowan strode up to her. “I’m shorter than Jet, and much lighter. Would you like to fight me, Jet?”
“Not particularly.”
“He would win, of course,” Rowan continued. “He’s Alpha for a reason. But it would be at great cost to him. I can’t beat him on strength alone, but I’ve built up other talents. And that’s what you need to do.”
Sylvia could only stare at her. What talents could Rowan think she possibly possessed that would compare to those of shifters, vampires, and worse creatures?
“Don’t look at me like that. You’re not talentless. How else would you have made it all the way out here in the first place?” Flipping her hair over her shoulders, Rowan tied it back. “You have wits and speed, and those count for a lot. But I’m going to teach you some things you might not know.”
Rowan turned. “Jet, hold out your knife.”
“Now I’m the practice dummy?” He pulled out his weapon. “Try not to draw blood. Some of us need to lead a pack.”
“You’ll survive. Stop your whining.” She stood in front of him. “Now, this is my favorite move, though it may take some practice.” Her hand whipped out to grab and twist Jet’s wrist. He yelled, and the knife fell to the ground.
“See? Easy.” Rowan kicked the blade up and handed it back to him. “This time I’ll do it slower.”
Jet rubbed his arm. “As long as you don’t break my wrist.”
“I’m not promising anything.” Rowan winked. “All right, so you want to grab the wrist like this.” She showed Sylvia. “Then twist, but really dig into the tendons. That’s the secret.”
Jet swore, dropping the knife again. “It’s even worse slowed down.”
Picking up the knife, Rowan brandished it. “You try,” she said, facing Sylvia. “Put your hand around my wrist.”
Tentatively, she obeyed.
“Now dig your fingernails in. Don’t be afraid to hurt me—we heal fast.”
She pressed her nails to Rowan’s skin, but she didn’t want to hurt her.
“Come on, harder. We’re not leaving until you make me drop it.”
Sylvia tried, but each attempt felt feebler than the last. She started to worry that Jet and Rowan were growing impatient.
“One more,” Jet said, “then let’s move on to something new.”
“Focus,” Rowan said. “If it helps, pretend that I’m someone who you really hate.”
Like me, Sophie?
The voice in her head made her pulse surge. Her hand shot out, wrapping around Rowan’s wrist. Fiercely, she shoved her nails into Rowan’s tendons. The shifter gasped in pain, dropping the knife.
“I’m so sorry,” Sylvia said, rocking back. “I don’t know what happened.”
“You did great!” Rowan beamed, still massaging her wrist. “Maybe a little too well, but then again, I must just be a great teacher, right?”
“Sure.” Jet snorted. “Is that enough for the day?”
“Maybe for you. She needs a few more lessons.”
Quickly, using Jet as a model, Rowan walked her through the best places to target an assailant.
“Strike the soft spots of the body,” Rowan said. “Eyes, nose, throat, groin. Those are the only ones you’ll need to remember. And no matter how many powers anyone possesses, their eyes are still going to water when you pop them in the nose.”
She immediately proved this using Jet, who didn’t seem too pleased.
“I won’t give a full demonstration of the groin attacks, since I’m guessing our Alpha will want pups someday.”
“I appreciate that,” Jet groaned.
“But your knee and shin work wonders there,” Rowan continued like she hadn’t heard him. “In close quarters, an elbow’s great, too—it’s one of the strongest points on your body.”
“Can we wrap this up?” Jet asked, still rubbing his nose.
“All right, one last thing. I’m going to show you how to break out of a hold. This won’t take long.” Reaching out, Rowan put her fingers around Sylvia’s wrist.
The world went dark. It felt like she was drowning.
There was steel around her wrist, cold and unforgiving. She tugged at it, but it was bolted to the table—there was no escape.
“I don’t know why you won’t eat,” a soft voice said. “It’s almost like you’re unhappy here. And after all I’ve done for you. You’re disappointing me, Sophie.”
She strained to get away from the table, sobbing as the manacle bit into her wrist. “Please, let me go!”
“But I can’t let you go. Not until you love
me. Do you love me, Sophie?”
He moved behind her. He was going to punish her, she knew it. She screamed for help, knowing that no one would hear.
“Why must you carry on so?” He set a plate in front of her, covered with a silver lid. “I’m only trying to be hospitable. You’re my guest, after all.”
The manacle glinted in the light of the chandelier, belying his words. But a dinner wasn’t a punishment.
He laid a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, but he merely stroked her arm. “You have much to learn, Sophie. But don’t worry. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”
Would there be no punishment this time? She breathed deeply, her heart rate slowing. Maybe tonight he would be merciful.
“I have only one request tonight, Sophie. I want you to dine with me.” He whipped off the lid, revealing a plate teeming with a mass of snakes. They writhed and slithered, just as desperate as her for escape. She still couldn’t help but scream as some fell into her lap, winding down her legs. The manacle kept her bolted to the table, forced to endure the horror.
He slid a fork and knife across the table. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Sylvia? Sylvia!” Someone was shaking her.
She gasped, sitting upright. Jet was crouched beside her. Rowan stood behind him, looking pale.
“What happened?” Her mouth felt like cotton.
“You fell.” Jet’s voice shook. “You weren’t breathing. Are you okay?”
She didn’t answer him. She could still feel the snakes crawling up her arm.
Jet helped her up. “That’s definitely enough for the day.”
“I can try again,” she said. “I’m not afraid.”
“But I am.”
“Alpha,” Rowan said, “if she wants to try again, I wouldn’t mind—”
“No more today. That’s final.”
“Well, if you have the time, maybe we can talk about Juniper.”
His eyes narrowed. “Is that why you really came down here?” He slipped an arm around Sylvia’s waist. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the den.”
Sylvia did her best to limp alongside him. Her feet were throbbing.
“It won’t go away just because you won’t talk about it.” Rowan followed them, supporting Sylvia on her other side. Another time, Sylvia might have protested, but she wasn’t sure she could make it back to the canyon without the help.
“What happened?” Sylvia asked. “Who’s Juniper?”
Jet’s mouth tightened.
“His sister,” Rowan said.
“She doesn’t need to know about that,” Jet snapped.
“So, what, you’re just going to pretend you don’t have a sister for the rest of your life?” Rowan bared her teeth. “Or you’re secretly going to go after her and punish her? Neither of those is a good solution, Jet.”
Between them, Sylvia sagged. Her heart was hammering. “You’re going to punish her?” she asked weakly. “Your own sister?”
Jet frowned. “I can’t do nothing. I was her brother and her Alpha, and she betrayed me.”
“What did she do?” Something was wrong with her lungs. She wasn’t getting enough air.
“Jet wanted her to be bound to a neighboring Alpha,” Rowan said. “She refused, and ran off with a shifter she actually loved.”
“Bound?” Bile rose in her throat. “You were going to make your sister a prisoner?” She stumbled. She wanted to run again, away from Jet, the canyon, his pack, but she was too weak.
“What? No!” Jet sounded alarmed. “Binding is… a commitment. An oath of loyalty to your mate.”
“Which is like imprisonment if you don’t agree to it,” Rowan said.
“It’s not like that at all,” Jet growled. “It was supposed to be an alliance. The commitment would go both ways—Ash would be loyal to her, and she would be loyal to him. It would have made both our packs stronger.”
“At the expense of Juniper’s sanity, once she’d found her fated mate.” Rowan tightened her grip on Sylvia’s arm. “But I forgot—you don’t believe in silly things like that, do you, Alpha?”
In the silence that followed, Sylvia fell.
“Hey.” Jet was by her side again. “Stay with me, please. We’re almost to the den.”
“Do you want me to go ahead?” Rowan asked. “I can get cold water ready, a cot made up…”
“Yes, go. I’ll carry her.”
Rowan took off. From the way her footsteps changed, she must have shifted.
Jet scooped her up. “Talk to me. Sylvia, say something.”
There was a note of fear in his voice. What did he have to fear?
“Sylvia, please!”
“I was bound,” she said dully. “How could you think of forcing that on anyone?”
“You were bound?” He stopped. “To a shifter?”
“No.” She tugged off her bandage. “Blood bound.”
“What does that mean?” He traced a finger over the marks. “A vampire did that to you?”
“They bite you. They drink. But they also make you docile. Make you forget.” She had to admit, it had been easy to give in. She had so much she wanted to forget…
“Sylvia, I’m sorry. That’s not the kind of binding I’m talking about. That’s not what we do—” Jet cut himself off as his voice rose in anger. “Don’t worry.” He was moving again. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”
She wished he wouldn’t make promises he couldn’t keep.
At the den, Rowan was waiting. She had Jet sit Sylvia at a table where she was plied with cold water and a disgusting tea that Rowan swore would help clear her head. Sylvia drank it, miserable. Clearing her head was the last thing she wanted right now, though the tea only seemed to clear her sinuses.
“Let me change your bandages,” Rowan said, “and put on some fresh lotion. That should dull any pain you’re feeling.”
Sylvia stuck out her legs while Rowan completed her ministrations. Once the bandages were in place, she pushed a pair of fur-lined slippers onto Sylvia’s feet.
“Now remember, it would be better if you didn’t have to use these slippers too often. You should try and stay off your feet as much as possible, even if only for a few days.”
“You don’t mind resting for a while, do you?” Jet asked.
The very question made cold sweat form on her spine. Could she really stay in one place for that long? The hair on the back of her neck prickled as she watched a group of shifters file into the den. Her mere presence was putting them all in grave danger.
“Sylvia! There you are.” Jasper slid onto the bench opposite her.
“Hi, Jasper.” She smiled.
“You remember me!”
“Of course I do.”
“What have you been up to?”
She didn’t want to trouble him with tales of her losing consciousness. “Oh, I just watched Rowan beat up Jet.”
Jasper laughed. “And I missed it? What a shame.”
“Is there any news?” Jet sounded annoyed.
“We did three sweeps, and scoured the eastern border. No signs of life, save for a few big bucks that were begging to be chased.”
Jet looked toward the entrance. “I don’t want to take any chances. Assign someone to patrol the eastern line. I don’t want a grasshopper to enter without us knowing.”
“No worries, boss. I left Dakota and Hawke to keep an eye on things.”
For some reason, Jet seemed to sour at this news. “Thanks,” he muttered.
“Unless you don’t trust Dakota and Hawke?” Jasper raised an eyebrow.
“They’ll be fine.” Jet turned away from him.
“Great.” Jasper clapped his hands. “Then I think it’s time for a hunt. Are you coming, Sylvia?”
“I can come?” She sat up straighter.
“I don’t see why not.”
Jet rose, grabbing Jasper’s shoulder. “She’s had a rough day. Even Rowan said she needs to rest…”
“She can rest aft
er the hunt.” Jasper brushed him off. “I’m not going to tell her she can’t come if she wants to. Do you want to?”
“Yes!” Tottering a little, Sylvia got to her feet. She probably shouldn’t run on them, but they felt fine.
“Rowan,” Jet barked as she was clearly trying to slip away, “back me up here. Doesn’t Sylvia need to rest?”
Rowan shrugged. “That’s just my recommendation. If Sylvia feels up to it…” She put a hand to her ear. “Oh, I think I hear Fable calling for help in the kitchen.” Before Jet could say anything else, she dashed off.
“Looks like you’re outnumbered.” Jasper winked.
“I’m still Alpha.”
“Yeah, and Sylvia’s not a pack member for you to boss around. Come on.” He held out a hand to her. “Let’s round up the hunters.”
It felt like she was walking on air as she accompanied him out of the den. The slippers were like tiny clouds. She might even be able to run in them.
Jet blocked the exit. “Can’t you wait a couple days?” he asked Jasper. “It’s not safe.”
“She can watch us, though. It’s not like I’m asking her to face a charging buck. Nothing will happen, so stop worrying like a mother turkey.”
Jasper guided Sylvia into the canyon.
“I’ll be fine,” she said to Jet. “I just want to see the hunt.” She waved as they left him behind, but he simply watched them go, seething.
Chapter 5
“This will be a small hunting party,” Jasper said, “just you, me, Gwen, and West. But if you help us flush some game, we might be able to hunt more efficiently.”
“So I can help?” She would love to be able to give something back to the pack that had given her refuge, healing, and amazing slippers.
“Yep. You have the most important job—without someone to guide our prey to us, the job is much more taxing.”
She doubted that startling animals was more difficult than bringing them down, but she wouldn’t argue.
As they journeyed down the canyon, they were joined by two other shifters.
“This is Gwen”—Jasper nodded to her—“and West.”
“Sylvia,” she said, drawing her cloak around her. Gwen was beautiful, with blue eyes and curves that Sylvia could never hope to attain. West had a chiseled face and body that any man would envy, and most women would want. How were all the shifters so inhumanly gorgeous? Beside them, she felt no prettier than a block of wood.
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