by Rhian Cahill
Flesh and bone collided behind her. Rowan glanced over her shoulder and stumbled at the vision of human and animals rolling in the snow. The blows, grunts and snarls a strange musical note on the air. A yowl of pain and her insides went cold.
“Quinn!”
Forced to turn away and continue went against everything her coyote wanted to do. Her mate was in trouble and she needed to help him. But her human side knew the best way to do that was get to the house. Get Brogan and a gun. Her legs pumped harder, her chest ached and her eyes filled with tears she refused to let free.
Brogan came through the door, rifle in hand, he raced to meet her. He grabbed her arm, shoved her behind his back and braced the gun on his shoulder. The loud boom ricocheted around them. Aimed into the air, the shot was meant as a warning but it did no good. Three bodies, one human, two coyote, continued to wrestle. Brogan fired again.
Nothing happened. Among the rustling and tearing of cloth Rowan could hear the groans and yelps of pain as teeth and fists found their mark. Firing over their heads wouldn’t do it, these animals were in a frenzy and they wouldn’t stop unless someone or something stopped them. She yanked the weapon from Brogan’s hands. Before he could turn around and stop her, she lined up the sight and fired. No thought. No breath.
One shot.
Her aim was true and the bullet went dead center between the eyes of one coyote. He fell to the ground, pushed aside by the still fighting bodies. The second shot was harder. With only the two of them, the risk of hitting Quinn grew higher. Brogan stood beside her, his steady calm presence gave her the composed nerves to pull the trigger. This time her line was accurate but a twist of torsos as she squeezed her finger sent the slug into the coyote’s shoulder and not the back of his head.
Yelping, he backed away from Quinn. The animal’s head thrashed from side to side and he limped toward the tree line. Brogan stripped off his clothes, but the coyote sensed danger and bolted into the forest. Rowan sped across the distance to Quinn. He’d rolled to the side but didn’t move to get up and she feared they’d been too late. She dropped to her knees and put the rifle within easy reach. The blur of fur and legs sailed past them. Brogan was on the hunt.
Quinn moaned and Rowan breathed a sigh of relief. His clothes were torn, the legs and arms suffering the worst damage. Blood from numerous scratches soaked the fabric but the amount wasn’t life threatening. Gently she examined him for broken bones. Nothing stood out but he’d need an x-ray to determine if his ribs were cracked. His groan when she pressed on his side indicated they were at least bruised.
“I’m okay.”
Rowan’s heart skipped and a sigh of relief slipped from her throat. “Dammit, Quinn, you scared the life out of me.” She stopped herself from hugging him for fear of hurting him.
“Just need to catch my breath.”
Gasps of pain accompanied every shift of position. His injuries made his progress to sit slow and awkward. Rowan grabbed his shoulder to steady him when he swayed. As soon as he seemed stable she let go but didn’t move away to check the coyote. She didn’t need to, death would have been instantaneous.
“Nice shooting.” Quinn tipped his head in the direction of the carcass.
“Not good enough to get two.”
“You got him and I sliced through his neck before you fired. I doubt he’ll get far.”
“Even if he gets far, Brogan will catch him.”
“Help me up.”
“Do you think you should move yet?”
“Rowan, if I don’t get my ass off this snow the damn thing will be frozen solid and any scratches I have will be the least of my worries.”
“Oh.”
She wrapped an arm around his waist and together they stumbled to their feet. Steady, Quinn pulled away and began to walk to the house. Rowan stayed close but his steps were measured and sure. When they got to Brogan’s clothing she realized she’d left the rifle with the dead coyote.
“Damn. Wait here.” She jogged back but before she picked up the gun Rowan checked to make sure the coyote was dead. There were no familiar markings on the animal and she didn’t recognize his scent, but then, she’d been away so long he could be a newcomer to the pack.
“He’s not one of ours.”
Quinn’s voice startled her. “I told you to wait.”
“I’m fine, besides we need to move the body closer to the house.”
He used Brogan’s pants to tie around the torso of the coyote. It made a crude rope but would do to drag the corpse to the house. Quinn moved with ease and other than the ripped jeans and jacket there was no evidence of his recent fight for life. His shifter genes worked quickly to repair the wounds inflicted and return his strength.
Together they made the slow trek across the snow. With the adrenaline wearing off, Rowan started to shiver. When they reached the back of the house her whole body shook and her teeth chattered.
“Get inside where it’s warm.” Quinn nudged her toward the door.
“No. I’m not cold, it’s reaction. I’ve never killed anyone before.”
Quinn pulled her against his chest and held her tight. “You did what you had to.”
“I know but still it’s not something I want to do again in a hurry.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Saving my life.”
“I don’t think it would have gotten to that point.” Rowan’s stomach somersaulted thinking about what might have happened.
“Maybe not, but it would have been worse if you hadn’t taken action.”
“Brogan would have made the kill if I hadn’t.”
“Speaking of him, here he comes now.” He loosened his hold. “Looks like he caught the other guy.”
Rowan turned in Quinn’s arms. Brogan strode toward them on two legs, the limp body of the coyote slung around his shoulders like a wet towel. It struck her as odd to see her brother stroll naked in such an easy manner. Before she’d lived outside of the pack she never would have thought about it but after spending several years with humans who hide themselves in public she felt the urge to turn away and give him privacy. She’d have to get used to seeing nude bodies again.
Hands wrapped around the animals legs, Brogan shrugged his shoulders and flipped the carcass over his head. It landed with a plop in the rapidly melting snow.
“He bled out before I got to him.” Brogan bent to retrieve his pants from where Quinn dropped them. “I think you sliced through his jugular. The blood trail was thick and short.”
“Rowan’s shot was off because he pulled back when I cut him.”
“So, any idea how we have two newly turned coyotes wandering around in the mountains?” Brogan asked.
“No. I’m not familiar with the human scent either. They’ve never been in town,” Quinn said.
“We need to get them in to Doc. She’ll be able to do a DNA test to determine if they were turned by one of the pack.” Brogan zipped his jacket before turning to Rowan. “I see you haven’t lost your shooting skills.”
“I haven’t fired a gun since I left. Not sure if it’s a good or bad thing I didn’t need to think about what I was doing.”
“Considering you saved Quinn, I’d say good.” Brogan pulled her in for a quick hug. “Okay, let’s get these loaded in the back of the truck.”
“Hey, wait a second, you said she. Is Doc Monroe gone?”
“Gordie’s taken over the practice. Doc and Mrs. Monroe are touring around in a RV he bought and did up.”
Rowan turned to Quinn. “Gordie came back?” Excitement bubbled in her veins at the thought of seeing her childhood best friend again.
“Yep.” Quinn tapped Rowan on the nose. “And as soon as we get these coyotes loaded I’ll drive you to town to see her.”
She refrained from jumping up and down like a toddler but there was no way to contain the smile that stretched across her face. Five years apart, Rowan and Gordie had struck up a close friendship during their teenage years.
They’d gone through their first shift together, she as a maturing coyote and Gordie as a newly turned one. When Gordie’s mate and unborn baby were killed in a car accident, she’d left Whispering Springs and not returned before Rowan had made her escape.
The last time she’d seen Gordie was eight years ago. After leaving for college the summer after the accident, Gordie had only come home for short visits and didn’t see anyone but her family. Rowan had missed the closeness the two shared, and until El, she’d gone without a close female friend. Of course El knew nothing about Rowan’s heritage so there were parts of herself she had never shared with anyone but Gordie. The idea of reconnecting their friendship thrilled Rowan and spurred her into action.
Between the three of them, they moved the coyotes around to the driveway. Brogan must have shoveled the snow while Rowan and Quinn were out in the forest because the packed gravel drive was cleared off ready to use. How he’d managed to do it all alone she couldn’t say. Quinn had parked her small rental behind his truck so she dashed inside to get her keys while the men loaded the bodies in the back.
As she rushed down the drive her foot slipped on a patch of ice, arms flailing, Rowan skidded about ten feet before going down. Flat on her back, the air sucked from her lungs, she stared up at the blue sky and fought for breath. The crunch of running feet as they sloshed through the snow and gravel came from the opposite side of the vehicle to where she landed. Quinn’s face popped into view.
“Are you all right?”
Unable to speak, she nodded.
“Then talk to me.” Panic was written all over Quinn’s face.
“Can’t.” Pain filled her chest. “Yet.”
Color drained from his face and he reached for her.
“No,” she panted. “Give me a minute.”
Lying on the hard-packed drive, Rowan took her time catching her breath and cataloging the aches and pains now racking her from head to toe. Other than a few bruises, she’d missed out on serious injury. She rolled to her side and sat up. Quinn’s arm slipped around her shoulders to support her. With her breathing back to a normal rate, she looked around for the keys that were flung from her hand when she hit the ground.
“Did you see where the keys went?”
“No.”
They both looked around but the keys were nowhere in sight. Getting to her feet, Rowan turned around slowly. She couldn’t see any holes in the snow so they hadn’t sunk beneath the surface. Confused by their disappearance, she tried to remember the exact sequence of her fall and the moment her grip on the keys was lost. She’d slid a few feet on her back and the keys had left her hand as she landed, which meant they had to be near Quinn’s truck.
Rowan stepped the few feet with care, she didn’t want to risk losing her footing again. The obvious place would be under the truck. The four-wheel drive sat a good two feet off the ground, the keys could have easily flown beneath it. She got down on her knees to peer below the chassis. A quick glance revealed the keys’ whereabouts but they weren’t the only thing she found. Next to the front right-side tire sat a large puddle of liquid. She might not know that much about cars but any idiot would know the amount of oily fluid spelled trouble.
“Ah, Quinn?” She reached out and retrieved her keys.
“Yeah.” He crouched down beside her.
“When did you last drive the truck?”
“The day you arrived. Why?”
“There’s a pool of oil or something under there.” She pointed to the front wheel. “Way too much for just a small leak.”
Quinn dropped to his stomach and shimmied underneath the cab. Rowan bent down again and joined him. He dipped a fingertip into the mass and brought it to his nose. One sniff and he pulled his hand away to rub the slick goo between his fingertips before wiping the excess off with a clump of snow. The space didn’t allow for Quinn to turn over but he twisted his neck and began poking at the undercarriage.
“Fuck.”
The curse echoed in the confined area and Rowan watched him yank a section of hose to get a closer look.
“Brogan, get under here and look at this,” Quinn yelled.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Someone cut the brake line. This puddle is brake fluid.”
“What’s wrong?” Brogan’s face appeared on the opposite side of the car.
“Did you take the truck out while we were at the cabin?” Quinn asked.
“No, I haven’t used it since I drove back here the day Rowan arrived.” Brogan maneuvered his way under to get a better look. “Is that the brake line?”
“Yep. Sliced clean through.”
“No way it was an accident then,” Brogan examined the hose in Quinn’s hand.
“Looks like our midnight visitor got closer to the house than we thought,” Quinn said.
The cold began to seep into Rowan’s clothes so she left the men to their inspection and wiggled her way out from under the truck. A glance at her watch showed it to be after noon and the grumble of her tummy told her well past lunchtime. She brushed the snow from her clothes and decided a change of outfit was needed before they drove in to see Gordie. Quinn stood up beside her and Brogan strode around the hood to join them.
“William is due to arrive any minute. I suggest we lock up the back of the truck to keep our cargo safe and head indoors to get warm and dry before he gets here,” Brogan said.
“Rowan, you go on in. We’ll clear up out here and be in when we’re done.” Quinn nudged her toward the house.
“I can help.” She got the feeling he was trying to get rid of her but couldn’t think why.
“It’ll only take us a minute and there’s nothing for you to do anyway so you might as well go in and get changed.”
He gave her another push and having no further argument, she went. She walked slowly, hoping to catch any conversation they may have without her there but neither of them said a word before she reached the front steps and out of earshot. Rowan took her time but once she had the door open and a blast of warm air surrounded her, she slipped inside and forgot about eavesdropping.
Quinn waited until Rowan closed the door behind her. “I don’t think Rowan’s the target.”
“What makes you say that?”
“The attack earlier and now the cut brake line.” Quinn held up a hand to stop Brogan from objecting before he finished explaining. “I agree the rock through the window of her old room looks like she’s the target but the other two incidents point to me. Neither of those coyotes went after her when they could have and the truck is mine.”
Brogan remained quiet. Quinn knew he was right. Rowan’s involvement was pure luck. Marcus had been planning his latest attempt to disrupt their positions in the pack for a while, the claim he made to the Council the first of his moves to destabilize his and Brogan’s leadership. His senses told him Gordie would find Connelly genes when she looked at the two dead coyotes. Their scent had a faint trace of Marcus but Quinn couldn’t be sure if the bastard had anything to do with turning them.
“You think Marcus is trying to get rid of you?”
“Yeah, with me out of the picture it would be easier to remove you as sovereign.”
“He might think so but you aren’t my only support in the pack.”
“I don’t think that matters. He’s crossed a line somewhere and isn’t thinking rationally, not that he ever really did but now the end goal is to be sovereign and he’ll do whatever it takes to get it.”
“William will be here soon. He’s one of the few who understand the danger Marcus represents. We’ll explain what’s happened and then take the corpses to Doc.”
“It would be good to have it on record with the whole council. Do you think William could call a meeting for this afternoon?” Quinn slammed the tailgate shut and checked that it was locked. “It might be a good idea to call one anyway so Rowan can make her presence known.”
“Good idea. Let’s get this canopy secure and get inside.” Brogan turned and headed
toward the house.
Quinn clicked the lid in place and checked it was locked before following his best friend. He continued to run the events of the last twenty-four hours through his mind. The more he thought about it the more he was sure Marcus was coming after him directly this time. In the past he’d only caused general mischief but for some reason the ante had been upped. He just hoped they could stop anyone else from getting hurt.
Chapter Ten
Quinn sat in the front of Brogan’s truck. The three of them were following William into Whispering Springs. After they’d explained everything the older man had insisted they take the strays to Doc’s office right away. The men had moved the bodies from Quinn’s truck to the back of William’s before starting out. Rowan sat beside him, equal parts excitement and nervousness coming off her. He knew she was worried about fronting the council but the prospect of seeing Gordie again put a smile on her face.
Both women had changed over the years but he hoped they would be able to reestablish their close friendship. It would be good for Rowan to have someone to connect with in the pack. A lot of her friends had moved away from the mountains and only returned for brief visits. One more thing they needed to change, too many of the younger coyotes were leaving the pack to live among humans in the big cities. They were changing that slowly and in time they planned to build a tourist industry around the mountains the pack called home.
The plans were going well, but to make sure their secret remained safe they were building a resort farther down the mountain. The humans who came to enjoy what Whispering Mountains offered should have no need to venture into the town. Brogan’s vision for the pack’s future would breathe new life into an old world. Hopefully in time, some of the younger generations would return to build their lives here. A couple, like Gordie, had already returned and more of the younger ones were talking of staying instead of leaving.
No one spoke, each of them lost in their own thoughts, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Instead it comforted, having his mate and best friend with him made Quinn feel all was right with his world. But it was a false comfort and until they removed Marcus as a threat, he couldn’t be complacent. He would need to be on alert, they all did. Dirty tricks were to be expected at every turn and now it would seem that Marcus had gone a step further. Nothing would stop him getting what he wanted. Not even murder.