“Ah, the sleeper has awakened.”
“Don’t,” I murmured. “I feel terrible.”
“You have the headache?”
“No. I have the humiliation.”
“I do not. I have already explained—”
“It was the drugs, yes. I remember. I still wish it had never happened.”
“Think nothing of it. I have experienced such erratic behavior in the past.”
“You should have slapped me.”
“This would have been improper.”
“Not as improper as the things I did.”
“Sit down. Put it from your mind.” He laid a plate of bacon, eggs and mushrooms in front of me.
“That looks delicious.”
“Then you should eat, before it goes cold.”
I did.
Ashley made no mention of my lewd antics, not even as a joke. I was hugely grateful. But something he’d said had circled my mind, orbiting my curiosity neuron, swooping past to tease my mind with half-remembered facts. Finally, I could stand it no longer.
“When I woke up…” I toyed with the last piece of bacon, skiing it over spilt egg yolk.
“Yes?” he said slowly, as if he’d been expecting my query.
“You were touching my leg. Your hands…”
“I hope you do not think my methods inappropriate, Mademoiselle.”
I stared openly. “Hang on. I was behaving like a cheap slut, and you’re worried about a little hands-on healing?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I wish you to understand that I was touching you in order to heal you, not from lust or desire.”
“I have no problem with you touching me in the name of medicine. I mean, you catheterized me. It doesn’t get much more intimate than that.”
“You should understand—”
I cut him off. “I want to know how you were healing me.”
“How I was healing you?”
“Yeah, buster. How is it you’re able to heal using only your hands?”
He smiled and his eyes became distant. “I have always suspected latent power within me. When animals fall and are helpless, in my arms they find new energy.”
“Maybe they were stunned? And then they recovered?”
Ashley shook his head. “In the forest, I have seen small animals eviscerated, or with broken limbs, breathing their last. I bring them here, or lie with them in my arms, and a miracle takes place.”
“They recover?”
“I am unable to explain this. To a doctor, or a scientist, it makes no sense. And yet, it happens.”
And yet, something made sense. If Ashley imagined himself to be a miracle healer, some forest magi, the naked footprints in the snow would be completely in character. Of course he would want to be in contact with Mother Earth, even if he got frostbite in the process.
“You think me crazy?” He smiled from one side of his mouth. Of course he was crazy, imagining he could heal with his hands. But it was a harmless kind of crazy, a benign nuttiness that would harm no one.
“Not as crazy as me on drugs.” I patted his arm and he smiled properly. “But my leg isn’t as painful this morning. Did you give me another injection after our…adventure?”
“Now that you are awake, I would not administer to you without permission. Especially considering the side-effects.”
“Yeah. Wouldn’t want that to happen again.” So I wouldn’t have to look at him, I cleared the last of the breakfast from my plate. As I did so, more questions surfaced. We both spoke at the same time.
“Are you finished? Would you like more?”
“What made you try to heal? Why not leave the animal in the forest? It’s nature, after all.”
“Because I was the one who caused the injury.”
“Oh,” I said. “Right.”
“I had no memory of causing the wound. But when I stumbled upon the doe a little later, I instantly knew it was my fault.”
“You knew? How?” But he ignored me, lost in the memory.
“My guilt was enormous. Seeing the doe in such pain. She was wailing, crying almost.”
“But how—”
“I was compelled to hold her, to ease her death in any way I could.” He pressed his elbows to the table, and leaned his forehead against his clasped hands.
“Empathy?”
“Mm-hmm.” His voice was high, and tight.
“What was wrong with her?”
“The skin, it was torn. Her leg, broken.” He raised his head and touched his throat. “There were cuts here.”
“Did you hit her with a car? No, wait. You don’t drive.”
“I remember nothing. But she was injured by me. Of this, I am certain.”
“So you held her. Then what?”
“I wept for the pain I had caused.”
I rubbed his arm as he wept. Ashley was bonkers, I had no doubt. But he obviously cared deeply for forest creatures, whatever had injured them. The attack sounded more like that of a wildcat, or a wolf.
“I heard a wolf out there. Last night.”
He turned to consider me. “You should not have been outdoors.”
“Says the man who left ice cream in the outdoor freezer.”
“It was remiss of me.”
“Why were you walking barefoot in the snow?”
“It is my way. It is how I truly become myself.”
“Okay, sure. I get that. The wild man of the forest.”
He gave me a strange look. “Is that how you imagine me?”
“I don’t know enough about you yet. Tell me about the doe. What happened to her?”
“I held her the entire day, stroking and soothing her until her trembling ceased. I thought she was succumbing to the darkness, accepting her fate, until she tried to stand.”
“She stood up? I thought she had a broken leg!”
“So I believed. And injuries to her throat. But when she broke free from my arms, I saw none of these injuries.”
“She was fully healed? Within the same day?”
“Half a day. It was not yet nightfall when she escaped me.”
“That’s…very strange.”
“Indeed. So when the opportunity of other injured creatures presented themselves to me, I repeated the experiment.”
“And you healed them?”
“Alas, no. They died.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“With the doe, I experienced guilt, a determination to put things right. My emotions were strong.”
“But not with the other animals?”
He shook his head. “Their plight was not my doing. I felt no urge to make amends.”
“But you tried to help me. The avalanche wasn’t your fault, so why—”
“With later animals, I improved my skill. I drew upon the pain, and determination I had felt when holding the doe.”
“It worked?”
“I was moderately successful. Many of the animals lived. I was finally able to make amends.”
“Amends? For what?”
His eyes widened, as if he’d been caught off guard. “Ah…for injuring the doe.”
I watched him carefully, not pressing the point, but suddenly unsure of his nature. Was he a reformed serial killer? A worker in an abattoir?
“So when I found you, I wondered if my gift would work on a human patient.”
“How did you find me, exactly?”
“Your…ah…leg was visible. I was able to dig you out.”
“Lucky for me.”
“Yes. You were fortunate.”
“It definitely feels better today.” I flexed my knee, raising my splinted lower leg.
“Perhaps it has healed.”
“I was walking on it last night.”
“Then it is healing well.”
“After only ten days? That would be incredible. Maybe I could take a look at it.”
“No. Not yet,” he said quickly. “Give it more time. Remember, you must walk to Chamonix. Perhaps another day
or two, yes?”
“Okay.”
“You agree?”
“I said okay. I won’t push it.”
“Good. Then you can stay and enjoy my coffee.”
“Sure.” His sudden insistence had alarmed me. And the miraculous healing story had been touching, but fantastical. I began to wonder if the whole ‘broken leg’ thing was a sham, a pretense to keep me here. But why? If he’d wanted to keep me hostage, he could have pumped me full of drugs. If I was to be a sex slave, he wouldn’t have resisted my antics in the early hours of this morning. So what was his agenda? Don’t go outside after dark, even though I’m outside in my bare feet. There was another oddity. And if it was such a long trek to Chamonix, why were his food cupboards so well-stocked? I’d heard no dogs, so he had no sled.
Something was amiss.
We moved onto coffee, relaxing in front of the hearth, which he coaxed into life with a handful of well-placed logs. We chatted about my home, my family, and then about his former life as a doctor, before he gave it all up, he said, to live in the unspoiled wilderness.
Chapter 6
I woke with a sudden start. Ashley was standing by the door, frowning. He was dressed for outdoors, complete with boots. A small backpack with long, looping straps hung from one hand. His other hand was pulling the door open. The windows sent gray light into the room, from a sky heavy with cloud.
“What? Where?” I muttered, stretching so hard, my joints clicked.
“Hush,” he said. “You should rest.”
“I’m done resting. Where are you going?”
“Ah…I need to cut more wood.”
I glanced at the well-stocked hearth and the stack of logs beside it. “Really?”
“A storm is coming.” He nodded toward the window. “Can you not see?”
“And this is relevant because?”
“Because if it persists, I cannot cut wood in a blizzard. This is not the city, April Depardieu. Out here, we must prepare.”
“Okay, okay. I was only asking.”
“The fire is low. You should retire to bed.”
“Or I could put some more wood on?”
“Are you an expert in this matter?”
“No, but—” How hard could it be?
“Then please…” He glanced out the door. “You should retire to bed. Healing is exhausting.”
He was right about that. Something was taking its toll on me. Unless I’d developed narcolepsy. Somehow I’d slept most of the day away, and my eyes were drooping again. Had he drugged my coffee?
“I will return shortly.”
“All right.” I yawned furiously. “I won’t wait up.” I stood, oriented myself, and then headed for the bedroom. Behind me, the door closed and the faint sound of crunching snow faded away to nothing. I didn’t know how long Ashley might be, but he was dressed for a good spell outdoors. Time to investigate what was going on beneath my bandages.
My leg was surprisingly pain-free, which was inconsistent for a broken tibia, or fibula. Once inside the bedroom, I sat on the bed, and unfastened the surgical tape holding the bandage in place. I wanted to see what was happening under there. Although I was splinted, no plaster covered my leg, only bandages, which seemed strange. I lifted my leg and spun off the bandage, yards of it, until it lay in an untidy heap on the floor. A thick surgical stocking enclosed my leg, protecting it from irritation by the bandages. Gingerly, I pushed down the stocking to reveal pale, puffy skin. Bruises and scratches, still scabbing, appeared. Then, below the knee, a mess of black and blue spread down my leg, evidence of recent trauma. Aches and pains jabbed at my nerves. And then, something I never expected to see. A cold chill crept up my spine as I finally uncovered my leg.
Bite marks. Several sets of them.
My leg hadn’t been broken, it had been bitten.
Ashley had a lot of explaining to do.
Chapter 7
I stayed awake for as long as I could, watching the front door keenly, prepared to confront Ashley the moment he stepped inside. But fatigue overwhelmed me, and I drifted into a deep sleep. Memories of my accident rushed at me. I was enveloped in cold, crushing snow. Darkness cocooned me, depriving me of all sensation except a deep, biting cold.
And then a narrow point of light appeared overhead, growing larger by the second. A dark muzzle pushed through and pointed directly at me. A search dog, I presumed, one of the many who were trained to seek out buried climbers in the treacherous mountains.
Without warning, I was turned upside down and dragged into the bright, dazzling air. After the relative shelter of my snow-hole, the air was biting and sharp. I turned to look at the search dog, but it had vanished. Instead, an unashamedly naked Ashley crouched at my side. I was startled to see I was naked too.
“What…where?” I tried to cover myself but I didn’t have enough hands. Something was always on show.
“Relax,” he said with a smile. “You are no longer in danger.”
“But my leg…” My injured limb was missing completely, all the way to my naked hip.
“I have it in my chalet. We should go there.”
“Okay,” I said, not thinking his suggestion was strange. In this place, it seemed perfectly normal. He scooped me up as if I weighed nothing, then walked easily across the crust of the deep snow.
The chalet appeared in no time at all. Just as quickly, Ashley was laying me down on the sofa. My leg had reappeared, although the remains of bandages fluttered from my calf.
And I was no longer naked. I wore a bra and t-shirt, plus panties. When I blinked, Ashley had vanished, and the front door had closed. I glanced around the cold room, then down at my own body. The bite marks were still apparent beneath the pressure marks of the absent bandages. Was I awake, then? Or was I still dreaming?
A shuffling sound from beyond the door alerted me to a presence. Ashley was back! I scrambled to my feet, dragging the blanket with me. I flung open the door, ready to demand answers from my rescuer.
A large gray wolf stared back at me, its eyes wide. His haunches dropped, as if he was preparing to run, or leap at me.
But I reacted faster than I believed was possible. The door slammed shut and I pressed my back against it, breathing quickly.
“Shit, shit, shit!” My fingers fumbled at the ice-cold shoot bolt, pushing it into place and securing the door against the creature. But now I was trapped.
I laughed at my own foolish thinking. I wasn’t trapped, I was safe. I hadn’t planned to venture out any time soon, although the nature of my injury had changed, which meant I was probably able to walk to Chamonix. The anger returned. Why had Ashley lied to me about my leg? Why had he said it was broken, and not that I’d been attacked by a wolf?
What if this was the same wolf, returning to complete the job? Could it have tracked me to the chalet? It was possible, I supposed.
Despite the secure bolt, I remained pressed against the door for a long moment, considering my situation. It occurred to me that I was not the one who was trapped. I was safe. Ashley was the one who was trapped, outside. He wouldn’t be able to return until the way was clear.
My anger shifted into worry, both for him and myself. Perhaps it was selfish of me to be concerned for my own future, but it was natural, wasn’t it? I tried to console myself with the knowledge that he’d lived in the wild for years, and had most likely dealt with the situation before. But still…
I moved away from the door and peered out, pressing my cheek against the cold glass so I could see the door. I wanted to see if I was still in danger.
I wasn’t.
The wolf had gone.
In his place, a naked Ashley was struggling to pull on a pair of pants. Beside him, his backpack lay open, and various items of clothing spilled out onto the snow. I noted a checked shirt, socks and a woollen hat.
When he saw me looking, his eyes widened, and his frantic attempts to dress ceased. He sagged in defeat, obviously disappointed he’d been caught in the act. When I cocke
d my head, he indicated the locked door with his hand.
For a brief moment, I considered leaving him out there. But whatever his reasons for walking naked in the snow, there was still a wolf out there. The danger remained. I hurried across and released the bolt. The door swung open and he hurried inside, clutching his untidy backpack against his naked body. I noted the socks which he’d left on the step, and wondered if it was safe enough to retrieve them.
That was when I noticed the prints…or the lack of them. Wolf-prints led up to the door, but none led away. Neither was there any sign of naked human footprints leading through the snow to the door.
“It’s not possible.” I moved out beyond the doorway and looked closer. The evidence was clear. The only thing was, it didn’t make any sense.
Unless Ashley was a lycanthrope.
“No, no, no,” I muttered. “There has to be another explanation.”
“The only explanation,” Ashley said quietly, “is the obvious one.”
“But it’s not possible.”
“It’s not only possible, it’s true.”
I stared, knowing the facts supported the idea. If Ashley was able to turn into a wolf, it would explain the disjointed footprints, his ability to withstand the cold, and his peculiar naked trips into the wild.
“But…”
Ashley pressed a hand to his bare chest. “Listen to your heart, April. What does it tell you?”
“That I’m standing in the alps, in sub-zero conditions, with a naked man?”
He moved closer. I trembled with a mixture of excitement and fear. When he reached past me, I tensed, uncertain of my own feelings. His hand touched the door, then pushed it closed. When it banged into the frame, I jumped with fright.
“There are some things which cannot be explained by normal means.”
“It’s too…incredible to believe.”
“You wish me to demonstrate?”
I pressed both hands to my mouth. “I…don’t know.” If Ashley was capable of proving his ability to transform, I’d have no choice but to believe. Until then, I could still dismiss the idea as nonsense. But the opportunity to witness the truth might never present itself again. I would spend the rest of my life wondering. For my own sanity, I needed to take a final step into the unknown, into the incredible.
Shifters Mountain Page 3