by Brea Viragh
She couldn’t be sure of anything at the moment. The least of which was whether the silver fox—handsome for his age—was real or a product of her imagination.
“What is this?” she managed. Her chest heaved and she rubbed at her eyes and cheeks.
He pushed away from the tree, his eyes old. Telling her even in the darkness what she wanted to know. Old and wise. “This is your wake-up call, girl. No more hysterics. No more tears. You have a job to do.”
She swiped her eyes a second time to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Pinched herself in the cheeks for blood flow. Either this was the most real hallucination of the batch or there really was a seventy-something-year-old man wearing a t-shirt and khaki pants standing knee-deep in the snow. At midnight. Talking to her like a favorite uncle.
Her usual reaction would be to catapult straight into hysterics. Something in his gaze stopped her short. “No more tears when I’m lost in the middle of the woods?” she lashed back.
“You’re lost?” The man sounded surprised. “How odd. I thought you’d been found.”
“I was following the tracks,” she said miserably.
“Which end here. Did you not notice the snowmobile?”
She struggled to twist her body, gaze following the tracks in the snow she’d been sliding through for the past however long. It was only then she noticed the way they curved. Two hundred feet in front of her was a dark shape in the snow. The snowmobile.
“Lakota!” Farris lunged, her hip popping out of place when her leg moved forward and the ski did not.
“Hold on, now. You can’t help him if you lose your cool. He’s going to need your help.”
“For a hallucination, you don’t need to be so reasonable,” she retorted.
The old man’s eyes narrowed. He slipped through the snow silently, then stood in front of her. When he cupped her face in his hands, his fingers were frigid. Firm. “Am I? How odd. I thought I was as real as you.”
She said nothing. Not because her mind was empty, but because there were so many words. So many thoughts and impossibilities she refused to see as possible. Her skin warmed the longer he held it, although his touch was disinterested. More like a grandfather. A kind friend.
Who the hell was this person?
“Where?” Not who are you, or what do you want. Her soul settled on the single question she needed to know the answer to.
He searched her face before quickly gripping her hand. “He’s going to need you to be strong. Follow the birch trees. They’ll lead the way.”
“Which ones are birch?”
“Oh, girl, you have so much to learn!”
His laugh surprised her, embarrassed her. They were alone in the dark woods and here was this man, guffawing with his head leaned all the way back as though he’d just heard the funniest joke. Once the last chuckle died and he wiped the moisture from his eyes, he bent to unclip her skis. She wouldn’t be using them any longer.
“The birch trees have the white peeling bark. It’s visible even now. Follow them, and you’ll find him. Hurry, Farris.”
She didn’t ask how he knew her name. There was a laundry list of items she would have asked the man, the least of which was how he’d found her there. Who he was and what he wanted. But she didn’t question. She didn’t push for answers or demand he give them. There was a more pressing issue at hand. And she didn’t hesitate.
Her lungs labored, her skin clammy and numb, but she pushed on. She kept her gloves on the paper-like bark of the trees she’d been instructed to follow.
It wasn’t long before she heard whimpers in the darkness.
“Lakota?” she called out.
The sounds stopped for a moment. A pause in the hush of night. Then came a long, low whine.
“I’m coming!” Farris pushed forward despite the aches and pains and fatigue riding her. Trying to keep her heart rate steady when it threatened to leap out of her throat. “I’m coming.”
She fumbled. She fell. She thrashed and suffered more than she could admit. But she found him. Her reluctance to accept him had come at too high a cost. That was the thought tormenting her as she struggled to jog forward.
The lynx was curled up in a ball in the snow, his head raised to look at her. Around him was a puddle of darkness tainting the snow.
“Lakota!” She tried to keep her expression neutral, to clear her mind of all thought. The terror came anyway. It came in hard, brutal blows that shot through her like bullets.
Her fingers burned when she touched his fur. There was a terrible tingling in her spine, her scalp, like an invisible electrode shocking her and moving higher. Her chest tightened and her throat closed.
Despite the freezing temperatures, the rest of her broke out in a sweat. She heard the booming of her heart then. “Oh God! No!”
Chapter 10
The pain was devastating. It was primal and deep and all-encompassing. It stripped the last of his humanity away until he was nothing but raw nerve endings.
He didn’t dare change his shape or it might take his foot off during the transition. The metal jaws of the trap clenched down to the bone and the smallest movement sent blood jettisoning out onto the snow.
He’d been dumb, Lakota thought dimly. Dumb enough to think he could race ahead without being aware of the traps poachers set in the area. His complete attention was focused on making it into town, getting help for Farris before it was too late. He hadn’t seen the steel teeth nestled in the snow until they’d snapped around his leg.
Once the snowmobile ran out of gas—and it had gone a pitiful distance before quitting—Lakota had decided to make the run to town in animal form. The lynx was better equipped for the large drifts. He barely noticed the obstacles in his way.
His mind raced back to the terrible moment when the trap snapped through tendons and muscles. When his world changed forever, the momentum carrying his body forward when his foot slammed to a stop. When he knew without a doubt he wasn’t making it out of this one before dawn.
He tried to keep his pained exhalations to himself, to clear his mind of all thought, but he whimpered when Farris’s hand fell on his fur.
“What can I do?” she whispered, her face a mask of worry.
He wanted to tell her not to blame herself. The thoughts were there, reflected in her eyes. Like she’d done something wrong. Like she was responsible.
Nothing had been able to sway him from leaving, trying to find the shaman. Lakota didn’t want to admit that Farris had been right when she’d asked him to stay.
What did it matter?
He used his nose to gesture toward his right leg, caught between the hinges of the trap. The pressure was unbearable and he’d spent the first few hours trying desperately to get away. It only made the bleeding worse.
He’d finally succumbed to the exhaustion and blood loss. Knowing it was shock hadn’t kept him from passing out. Lakota knew if he tried to change form and use his hands to pry open the trap, he’d be a goner. The teeth were too far embedded in his foot. He’d be mangled before the loss of blood took him under.
He’d thought briefly about chewing off the trapped limb, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“Your leg.” Farris tugged off her gloves, using her teeth. “Do you mind if I touch you? Please don’t bite me.”
He would never hurt her despite the pain.
She swallowed a gag, although he caught the movement of her chest with the dry heave. That bad, huh? “It’s going to be okay,” she breathed.
He heard the foreboding she did not. Death stretched in front of him like a dark opening. Yawning. Ready to gobble him whole. The feeling of doom was unmistakable.
“I’m gonna try to pry it open. I’ll get you out of here.” Her fingers shook when she brought them to his ears. Then lowered her head to his. “I have to get you out.”
The trap shook when she touched it, and he couldn’t help the growl that escaped. He didn’t have the strength to move anymore. The agony leached
it out of him as fast as his poor body could produce it. And for what?
“It’s frozen. How long have you been like this? God, Lakota, I don’t know what to do. What kind of sick, twisted person puts something like this out here?”
Farris didn’t have the strength either. He watched her shake, trying desperately to pry the two sides apart without hurting him. The steel refused to move.
“Give me a second to rest. I…I’m trying.” Her voice was reed-thin. “I didn’t know it would be this hard.”
He knew this was difficult for her. The color of her skin matched the snow, and his chest constricted when he saw the sweat dripping from beneath her hat. Lakota glanced at her hands, the blood covering them, and his stomach spiraled. He ignored the chill that tickled the hairs on his back.
Whimpering, he nudged at her with his nose.
Her open palm fell on top of his head. “I’ll be fine in a minute. Stop worrying.” The chiding tone was meant to put him at ease. It did the opposite.
Farris struggled with the trap for another thirty minutes at least. Lakota lost track of time, his vision swimming and his lynx ready to curl up and end it. There was no good way out of this.
“I’m so sorry, Lakota.” She wiped the back of her arm against her eyes and the tears freezing on their trek down her cheeks. Exhausted, she sagged against the tree. “I’m so sorry.”
They weren’t getting out of there.
“I don’t think I can do this,” she muttered, rocking back and forth. “There’s so much blood. I know I have to, otherwise you’ll die.” She tried to reach out and soothe him, comfort him, help him to feel less alone, her fingers circling his ears. “My insides are twisting in a knot. The trap is frozen and I can’t— I can’t do it.”
Breathing was becoming difficult for him, each separate inhalation agony to draw into his lungs.
Just don’t leave me. The plea was wrenched from his heart.
“I’m sorry. I failed you.”
He felt her rippling fear, the spreading terror and knowledge in her brain. The apology. And yet her thoughts turned to him. Lakota hated himself for not having the discipline to make the right move. He should have turned her when he had the opportunity. They would both be lost once the cold took them.
He shifted enough to place a paw on her lap.
“There…might be another way…” Farris trailed off on a shaky exhale. “One last alternative. I know earlier I didn’t have complete conviction…”
He shook his furry head. No.
“I’m still not sure I can do this. But I know I have no choice.”
She stirred in pain, flinched, tried to move him off her lap.
It’s not worth it. He tried to tell her, to comfort her, to protest the decision she moved swiftly toward.
“It is worth it,” she whispered raggedly.
Had she heard him?
“You’re too good to me, Lakota. You risked everything to help me when I was nothing but a stranger.” Silence was her answer. “I still don’t feel like I deserve your love. I can offer one last-ditch effort to save you, to save us.”
He stirred, keeping his eyes closed, seeking out with his other senses. He couldn’t let her go through with this decision. There was no time to process.
“I’m doing this with or without your permission.”
Before he fully recognized what she planned, she’d pried his mouth open and slashed his incisors across her wrist, using her free hand to probe at his leg. He bit down on instinct when pain pierced through him.
What do you think you’re doing? No!
The moment the human part of him understood, he released her, eyes wide and wild. He scrambled back. Leg jostled, fresh blood seeped from the wounds. What had he done?
There was Farris, still sitting in the snow, cradling her arm and the raw bite wound there. “It’s too late.”
Lakota didn’t even know if it would work. He wasn’t sure if the conversion would go through, if his saliva would soak into her organs and change her, repair her. Was it saliva or blood? Was it a bite? A scratch?
Why was none of it taught?
Because they weren’t supposed to turn humans.
Her heart rate was too slow, he thought, sliding onto his side with his head on her lap once more. But whatever happened, he was with her. His awareness centered and condensed until there was nothing but Farris. His mind blanked and he allowed the pain to swamp him, to carry him someplace far away where their lives didn’t hang in the balance.
He didn’t feel the cold anymore. He was tired, so tired. It would be easy to let go. Beneath him, Farris shivered, and he wondered if her last effort would be enough to save them.
Chapter 11
Farris fought to hang on, to reject the deceptive peace that came with the snow and the cold. She wanted to brush her fingertips over the lines of Lakota’s furry ears and tell him everything was going to be all right. To ease his guilt—and maybe some of her own—and assure him that this was her choice.
There was fire in her veins. She was dimly aware of the strange changes taking place inside of her. Of her organs shifting and mutating and becoming stronger. Healthier. The shift was taking place rapidly. She understood it, knew it was necessary. Trying not to fight it was the hard part.
Her hands trembled and she could not get her arms to lift, to move. In her lap, Lakota had become still.
She had to fight for him. Think only of him and how, if she hadn’t reacted when she did, it would be giving up. If there was one thing she’d been good at, it was giving up. Giving up on herself. On her happiness. It was time for a change.
He was losing more blood. She watched it slowly seep out of the wound on his leg. There was an answering pulse in her wrist, where the puncture holes from his canines were already scabbing over and healing.
Would the change be fast enough to help him?
Her heart heaped and nearly missed a beat. Became erratic in response to the burning sensation beating through her. Farris’s instinct was to fight against it. It meant the end of her life. The life she knew. Those vicious voices in her head wanted to refuse what was happening or accept the consequences of what she’d done.
She forced her heart to slow.
“This better work,” she said aloud, surprised at the sluggish cadence of her words. Like she said them through a mouthful of maple syrup.
Around them, the breeze was soft and whipped at the snow on the ground. The earth was silent, settled. It wasn’t the type of night where everything changed.
It was about time she stood up for something, someone¸ herself included. Instead of walking through life feeling like a victim. She’d given away her power to those who hurt her, like her ex who was deceitful and cruel. Like her boss Terrance who thought he could get away with treating her like a second-class citizen. And she’d let him. Like her parents who ridiculed her for still living in their basement although she was rapidly approaching her thirties.
It wasn’t right. Any of it.
Then there was Lakota, the man she hadn’t been able to trust until it was too late. He’d taken care of her and shown her kindness and asked for her to love him in return.
Her insides began to burn and she played the horror of what happened on a reel inside her head. She should be dead. He might be, for all she knew.
A lance of agony shot straight through her and she cried out with the force of it. Heat spiraled inside of her, racing up her spine and into her brain before the force of it had her blacking out.
It felt like hours went by before she woke. Before opening her eyes, Farris assessed her situation. She wasn’t cold anymore. Her aches were a memory written on her muscles, but when she shook an arm, it moved. Her fingers curled against Lakota when she needed the reassurance of his pulse.
It was excruciatingly slow. Her unease grew but when she stood, careful not to jostle him, a low cry of alarm was the only sound she made. Pain clawed at her arm a split second before settling and disappearing. She r
emembered everything.
She also knew, when she opened her eyes, the world would look different.
“Lakota,” she began carefully. The syllables were a low hum in her throat. “I’m getting you out of here. Now.”
The terrible truth was she felt great, and even though the life she’d known was altered forever, she wouldn’t alter her course. Her eyes opened and a dazzling view greeted her. A thousand smells assaulted her overly sensitive nose. And her fingers, when they bent to pry open the trap, snapped the metal in two like breaking apart a piece of bread.
Her brain went into shock, body rigid at the realization. She was a shifter. Had she thought Lakota fast when he carried her?
How fast could she run?
“We’re going home.”
Lakota nudged at her softly, the touch gentle until her eyes fluttered open. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart. It’s time to open your eyes.”
“Five more minutes,” she murmured, curled at his side like a cat, her knees tucked next to her chest and her hand over his heart. A moan purred in her chest and she wasn’t embarrassed to snuggle closer.
“If you want to make it out of here and get to town in time, then we’re going to have to get up and do some more shoveling.”
At last she blinked, raising her gaze to his. “Shovel?”
He nodded. “Sure. You said it yourself. You have a deadline to make.”
She waved him away. “It’s long gone. There’s no chance I’ll be able to get everything uploaded, polished, and sent in with time to make press deadline. I’m long past worrying about it, too.”
His arms dragged her closer, anchored her to him when she wanted to float up into the clouds. It was three days since she’d changed into legend, and although her human brain wanted to refuse the truth, her body knew. Accepted. Her heightened senses kept her grounded in the truth.
She and Lakota spent days healing, sleeping. Making love when his body was restored enough for a little extracurricular activity. She was past worrying about it. Whatever cost she’d paid—and although she’d yet to figure out the full extent of it, make no mistake, there had been one—she gladly accepted the consequences if it meant having Lakota at her side…