Uriel, likewise, enjoyed his empty head and spent body, for he knew it wouldn’t last long. Pleasurable moments were few and far between in the life of a leader. With a battle on the horizon and unrest in the ranks, he was determined to enjoy this moment for everything it was worth. He began to drift off to sleep and startled awake. He should be on guard, shouldn’t he? But nothing had happened to them during their daily naps for an entire week. He could take a day off, he decided. Or at least an hour. He gave himself permission to drift away and dreamt of castles in the sky.
He couldn’t have known that someone had been watching from the trees, waiting for him to make that very decision.
Chapter Sixteen
The afternoon sun beat down on Forest’s back. Uncomfortable and thirsty, he rolled, only to be caught around his waist.
“Where are you going?” Uriel mumbled in his sleep.
“Getting water,” Forest replied.
Uriel groaned then opened his eyes, shutting them again as he was blinded by the sun.
“I’ll come with you,” he said. “Dangerous to walk in these woods alone.” He said it with a cocky grin, but there was more than a little truth to that, and they both knew it. Treating it like a game, a ploy, made it easier to swallow, but it didn’t change the fact that they were being hunted, and probably would be for the rest of their lives. The cool water felt refreshing on their bare skin as it washed away the sweat and grime from their outdoor interlude and subsequent nap, and they took far longer to bathe than was necessary.
Uriel glanced at the shadows around and the position of the sun. “What time do you suppose it is?” he asked.
“I don’t know... between four and five probably,” Forest replied.
“I was afraid you’d say that,” Uriel said, suddenly splashing out of the creek to clamber up the bank.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Forest asked, slipping as he tried to follow.
“They should have been awake by now,” Uriel explained, reaching his hand down to pull Forest from the water. “We should be hearing them. They should have come looking for us.”
“Oh,” Forest breathed.
They ran back to the clearing together, and Forest wished he’d thought to put his clothes back on. The underbrush whipped his tender skin as he ran, but Uriel’s panic was contagious and he didn’t break his stride. They crashed through the bushes into the clearing. The wolves were gone.
“Where did they go?” Forest asked. “This is where we stopped, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Uriel told him grimly. “They’re gone.”
“But where? Why? Did they leave, or were they taken?”
“Hush.”
“Well I’m sorry, but there’s a lot at stake here, and—”
“No, shut up, I hear something.”
Forest snapped his mouth shut and listened. Uriel was right; there was a repetitive, low hum coming from the trees. He thought it was mechanical at first, but then he heard a waver variation that made it sound more like a muffled scream. Uriel heard it too, and burst into motion, shifting as he ran toward the sound.
“Wait, it might be...” But Uriel was already in the trees. “A trap,” Forest sighed.
He shifted awkwardly and followed Uriel into the trees. His heart was pounding, his mouth was dry, and he wished he was back in the creek, ignorant of the loss and cool in the water. He found Uriel quickly, hunched over something on the ground. As Forest drew closer he realized that it was Bianca, trussed and gagged.
“Oh my God, what happened?” he asked, crouching beside her.
“I’ve got her,” Uriel told him. “Go help those two.”
He gestured vaguely, and Forest looked. Gomer and Jason were both bound and gagged, and appeared to be unconscious. Praying that they weren’t actually dead, Forest worked quickly to free their hands and feet, nearly forgetting their gags. They were both breathing, but neither would respond to his attempts to wake them.
“Don’t bother,” Bianca told him. “They’ll be fine in an hour or two. Someone handle Strella.” Bianca rubbed her wrists and nodded behind her. Uriel followed her indication and found the small grey wolf who had been so close to shifting back to human, unconscious and bound as Bianca had been.
“What happened here?” Forest asked.
“Roy happened,” Bianca said bitterly. “He and the three idiots who agreed with him. Jumped us while we were sleeping, cowardly bastards. Don’t know where they went, but I swear to every Goddess, if I find them, I will kill them myself.”
“Then I better not let you find them,” Uriel said.
She glared at him, but didn’t argue. She stood, revealing her perfect hourglass shape as white hair cascaded down her back. She reminded Forest of a superhero in a comic he used to read as a kid, though he couldn’t seem to remember her name. Some kind of force of nature, which Bianca certainly seemed to be.
“You strong enough to carry Strella?” Uriel asked her.
“I could carry all three of them,” Bianca huffed. “It’s not like we have far to go.”
She lifted the little grey wolf in her arms. Forest and Uriel carried Gomer and Jason, and they lay the three shifters together on the soft grass. Uriel sniffed the air, trying to determine which way the others had gone.
“How long ago did this happen?” Uriel asked.
“About an hour after you left,” she told him.
Uriel winced. Roy must have waited for him to fall asleep, which meant he must have been watching. He shuddered at the creep factor and watched the same realization cross Forest’s face, turning him crimson. Uriel suddenly caught Roy’s scent and chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Forest demanded.
“They’re heading southeast,” Uriel told him. “They’re all new wolves and I doubt any of them are skilled outdoorsmen. They probably don’t even know.”
“So?” Forest asked, not understanding.
“So, if they reach my tribe before I do, they’ll make an excellent distraction for Animus’ men. All we have to do is follow them and make sure they stay on the right track.”
“And if they don’t?”
“We’ll just have to convince them that it’s in their best interests.”
Forest didn’t ask how. The gleam in Uriel’s eye told him that he probably wasn’t thinking about a long talk over tea. Feral diplomacy at best, he thought. He put it out of his mind. They couldn’t go anywhere until the others regained consciousness. Plenty of time to worry about all that later.
“Where did you guys go, anyway?” Bianca asked.
“Went to pick berries,” Uriel told her.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “I see no berries,” she pointed out.
“We took a nap and accidentally left them behind,” Forest explained poorly.
“Right,” she laughed. “Better be careful. Naps like that make puppies.”
Forest shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Uriel. Should we tell her? he asked with his eyes. Uriel shook his head almost imperceptibly. If she knew that Forest was pregnant, she would go full maternal. He needed her on her warrior A-game and he needed Forest in fighting shape. She would fill his head full of warnings about how stress and injuries could hurt the baby. Uriel couldn’t afford for them to be distracted. As it was, they were his two strongest fighters, though Forest seemed painfully unaware of his own power. If they were going to survive, they both needed to have their heads in the game.
The three others slowly began to come around. Strella was the first one to awaken fully, and she burst to her feet with a string of curses.
“Those bastards! They’re going to blow our cover! They’re gonna do something stupid and it’s gonna be a witch hunt all over again. I hate newbies! I hate them! God! Give a guy immortality and what does he do with it, huh? Screws everything up! God, if I ever see his weasely little face again I’m gonna...” She trailed off into incoherent mumbling punctuated by the occasional colorful curse. Gomer and Jason rose groggily, blinking at the tiny, furry, fireball wi
th the sailor’s mouth. Jason grew increasingly and visibly annoyed, while Gomer might as well have had hearts for eyes. Uriel’s mouth twitched in amusement as Gomer drifted closer to Strella as if pulled by the storm of epithets that poured from her sharp little tongue.
“If everybody’s up, we should get going,” Bianca said impatiently.
“She’s right,” Jason agreed. “Those idiots won’t get far on their own, and the last thing we need is for them to go stumbling into some family’s camp site.”
“True,” Uriel said. “Police the area, get rid of any evidence. Throw it to the north side of the creek. Might as well misdirect if we can, right? Forest, go get your things.”
Forest found his way back to the little valley filled with berries. He blushed at the sight of his hastily discarded clothing scattered around a flattened spot in the shrubbery, and allowed himself a private smile. The fact that Uriel seemed as overwhelmingly drawn to him as he was to Uriel gave him hope that they could overcome whatever secrets and complexities lay between them. It would be work, but it would be so worth it.
He pulled his pants and boots on and carried his shirt back to the clearing where he discarded it on the other side of the creek. It was stained beyond redemption from the blackberries, and he had no interest in swatting bees for the remainder of their journey. Once the clearing was free of all evidence, Uriel led them into the trees single-file. Forest walked behind him, followed by Strella, who was followed by the love-struck Gomer. Bianca walked behind him, and Jason brought up the rear. Forest appreciated the strength represented by their little group, and wrongly identified himself and Strella as the wolves most in need of protecting.
Uriel saw things differently, but then he was in possession of far more knowledge. The fact that Forest could take on six soldiers single-handedly and successfully disable all of them was incredible. The average werewolf could take on four average humans at any given time. Forest had hidden talents and skills, and Uriel was aching to figure out why. He wanted to know exactly what happened in that room, every detail. Now that their group was smaller, he thought he may allow himself the privilege of talking more openly about everything. There was a lot to go over, and Forest needed to be educated just as badly as Uriel needed to know how he could do what he did. Trust alone would only get them so far. At some point, there would have to be an exchange of knowledge in order to keep that trust alive.
“Shouldn’t we be moving faster?” Jason called from the back. “They have a six-hour head start, at least.”
“They’re inexperienced and mentally human,” Uriel reminded him. “They’ve walked through the hottest part of the day. They’ll be tired, hungry, and thirsty. They’ll stick to the creek, and they’ll sleep tonight since they didn’t sleep today. If they hunt, they will hunt poorly and leave a mess. If they don’t, their bellies will slow them to a crawl. We have the advantage, so stick to your pace.”
Jason grumbled under his breath, but didn’t argue. Uriel was right, and they all knew it. Sprinting now, while the sun was still up, would only serve to tire them out. They would close the distance faster by using their time and energy efficiently.
“Has it always been like this?” Forest asked.
“Like what?”
“Mad scientists and government entities and rebellious newbies clumsily striking off on their own. Your species teetering on the brink of destruction, one mistake away from losing everything.”
“Essentially,” Uriel told him. “We have periods of peace and quiet, but every time the humans expand into our territory, something happens. In a few hundred years there won’t be enough forest left to hide in, and we’ll need to learn to live in the human community or die off.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t started already.”
“Some packs have,” Uriel told him. “City wolves exist, and many of them live peaceful, prosperous lives. Of course, they have to move every ten years or so and have to stay out of the public eye so nobody notices that they never age, but they can lead quiet, passionate lives just fine around the humans.”
“Why doesn’t your tribe do that?”
Uriel shook his head. “It’s difficult for old men like me to adapt to change. I like my privacy, my woodland community of creatures. Cities make me feel suffocated. I want to be free to hunt my food like a beast, run my tribe like a king, and build my home like a man, none of which are particularly achievable when you live under human rules.”
“I guess that’s one thing to be said for mortality,” Forest said thoughtfully. “It leaves the burden of adaption to the young and fresh.”
“In my world, you are the young and fresh,” Uriel pointed out. “Maybe you could help me figure out how to lead my people into the future.”
“You would let me help you?”
“I can’t think of anyone else who would be willing to.”
Chapter Seventeen
Forest was beginning to worry that his infatuation with Uriel was a dire mistake. Uriel’s frequent allusions to a past fraught with violence, subjects who dared not disobey him, and lack of people willing to help him move forward painted a character so far removed from the Uriel he thought he knew that it forced him to consider the possibility that he’d completely misjudged Uriel’s character. Had he even judged it at all? Thinking back on it, he hadn’t really had the opportunity. Uriel was intelligent, knowledgeable, and kind while they were in their cells. He was unrelentingly sexy once they were in the tank, and he was brutally capable when it came time to escape. He’d waited behind for Forest... but why? Had that action come from a place of caring, or a place of self-preservation?
Inside the facility, Uriel was obviously one of the good guys. Out in the world, though, the lines between good and bad were blurry at best. Forest recalled how gleeful Uriel had been when he realized that the new wolves were headed in a useful direction. It didn’t seem to bother him at all that those men could die from exposure, hunger, thirst, or any of the humans who were after them; he only calculated their usefulness to him and his goals. Forest had to wonder if he treated everyone that way, like pawns for him to use as he saw fit; and if he did, what use did he have in mind for Forest?
Forest cradled his lower belly in the palm of his hand. His trunk was a sturdy cylinder now, where it had been concave before. His body was already changing, growing as the body—or bodies—inside him grew. How many babies did werewolves have at a time, anyway? The question took on a sudden urgency in his mind, pushing all other thoughts aside.
“Uriel?”
“Yeah?”
“Do werewolves have litters, or singles and doubles like humans? Are the babies born in human form or were-form? Am I going to be torn apart from the inside out by razor-clawed sextuplets?” The image made him queasy even as Uriel laughed.
“Probably not,” he answered with an evil grin. “The claws usually don’t come in until later. But for your first question...it kind of depends. Some shifters have more wolf characteristics, some have more human characteristics, and whichever it is seems to determine the number and form of the offspring, as well as the length of the pregnancy.”
“Length of the...hold on, I was counting on nine months!”
“Could be nine. Could be four.”
“Four?!”
“Yeah, so, actually the sooner we get you to the tribe midwife the better. There’s no telling how long you’ve been pregnant; I was kind of out of it and you were in a coma, so...”
“Five weeks.”
“How do you know?”
“During the interrogation they asked me about the cave-in incident. They said it happened exactly one month before.”
“I see. Speaking of the interrogation...”
“Yes?”
“I think it’s time you told me exactly how that went down.”
Forest’s belly went cold and his heart vibrated his chest with anxious beats. He’d been over it and over it in his mind, but those blank moments were still blank. He didn’t have a
nything worthwhile to tell Uriel.
“Now, if you don’t mind,” Uriel urged firmly.
“Well... I’ll tell you everything I remember.”
Uriel shot him a quizzical look over his shoulder, but didn’t interrupt.
“They asked me a bunch of questions about the zoo and the facility, then they told me I was free to go. But when I stood up, the officer asked me if I’d ever been tased. I don’t know if I answered or not. The next few moments are just... black. I can’t remember what happened. When the memory reel starts up again, I’m standing in the middle of the room surrounded by bodies.”
“Hmm.”
Uriel didn’t say anything for a while, and Forest’s stomach twisted itself in nervous knots waiting for his reaction. He wished he’d scream or slap him or anything, but he didn’t so much as glare over his shoulder. He just kept walking, one foot in front of the other as the sun sank low in the sky.
“Have you ever had combat training?” Uriel asked finally.
“Sort of,” Forest answered quickly, relieved that Uriel was speaking again. “I took Krav Maga for ten years or so, and I guess a year of mixed martial arts.”
“How is that sort of?” Uriel asked, astonished.
“Well, I wasn’t very good at either of them. I was never as fast or as strong as my classmates. I never even competed. I wasn’t learning to compete, anyway.”
“Why were you learning?”
“I used to get beat up a lot in school. I’ve always been kind of weird, and some kids aren’t real tolerant of weird. I took Krav Maga to protect myself, but it never worked the way it was supposed to. The fact that the kids were twice as big as I was might have had something to do with that, but if I’d done it right I should have been able to get away no matter how big they were. Never succeeded, though. I always hesitated at the crucial moment, right before I could potentially inflict damage. I was more terrified of hurting someone else than I was of being hurt, so I never could follow through properly.”
“Wolf blood plus a taser would have squashed that hesitation,” Uriel told him. “You probably can’t remember because you weren’t really in control. You would have shifted as soon as the current started, instinctively. You would have lashed out with claws and fangs in familiar patterns that your human mind associated with violence. Krav Maga fits the bill. What I can’t understand, though, is if you had these skills, why didn’t you use them when you were captured? Or when they gave you those injections?”
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