Jake was awed by this tenacious, uninhibited side of Zoe. She was stunning.
Swallowing, she said, “Do you still love me, even though I’m different?” Her eyes searched his, and she bit the inside of her cheek.
Jake’s hand reached out and cupped the side of her face. Yes, she was different, but she was still Zoe. “Of course I do,” he whispered, emotion making it difficult to speak.
She covered his hand with hers, the electricity of her touch rippling through him. “Good, because no matter what you may think, right now, being with you is the only thing I want.” She closed her eyes.
As Jake digested her words, his chest tightened almost unbearably with immense joy. Standing so close together, with only inches separating them, he felt more intimacy with her than he could ever remember feeling before.
It’s still Zoe, he told himself, knowing he might never get the old her back; they were still connected in some intrinsic way. He could feel the heat radiating from their bodies and gravity pulling them together, making it impossible to let her go. He moved closer to her until their chests were touching.
When she opened her eyes, a tear escaped from between her lashes.
“What is it?” Jake asked, and he wiped the rogue tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb.
Blinking, Zoe closed her eyes again, another teardrop sliding down her face. “I know this sounds so stupid,” she said and let out a small, self-deprecating laugh as Jake brushed away the second tear. “But I’ve never felt something like this before.” When she gazed back up at him through her dark, fanning lashes, her radiant eyes seared into his soul.
Zoe placed her open palm on his chest, staring at it intently. Her fingers tensed against his thermal shirt, then relaxed again. “It feels right.” Slowly, she leaned toward him, her eyes searching his before her lids flitted shut, and she pressed her lips to his.
Automatically, Jake’s arms wrapped around her waist, and he stifled a groan. The tension in his neck and shoulders dissolved, and his wild, corrosive thoughts tamed. She was his, and like always, they would figure everything out.
Zoe brushed a featherlight kiss against his lower lip and then the corner of his mouth, like she was exploring him. He reveled in the moment, letting her tender touch force back every derisive thought and assumption he’d allowed himself to harbor. He’d missed feeling the soft pressure of her lips. He’d missed the close proximity of her body. He’d missed her.
Returning her kiss, Jake gently pressed his lips to hers. He took his time reacquainting himself with the way they felt, with the way her fingertips swirled small circles on the back of his neck, and with the way she slowly rose onto her tiptoes, bringing her up even with his height so she could kiss him deeper and hold him tighter.
Jake’s arms tightened around her as his heartbeat droned steadily. He couldn’t think. He didn’t want to think; he just wanted to feel her, to be in the moment and never second-guess their relationship ever again.
But all too soon, she pulled away.
Opening his eyes, Jake saw a spark of hope enliven hers again, replacing the hurt reflected in them only moments ago.
“So,” she said huskily, eliciting a strumming desire through his body. “We try then?”
With more relief than Jake knew how to handle, he lowered his forehead to hers, tightened his hold around her, and closed his eyes as he whispered, “We try.”
15
DANI
APRIL 28, 1AE
Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest, Nevada
I ran a curry brush along the curve of Wings’s back, over and over again. The rest of the horses were already rubbed down and turned out in the field of wild grasses that spanned the acres between the highway and the sprawling forestland to the south. It was the first time we’d been somewhere so green in weeks, let alone near a creek that held enough water to actually clean ourselves. I didn’t know where the others were, but I assumed the creek had captured their attention.
Not that I really cared, other than being glad they weren’t nearby. It was a relief to finally be alone with Wings and Jack. I planned to stay with them until the sky darkened and I was too tired to keep my eyes open, and then I would slip into their minds and spend the long hours of the night with them as well. I basked in the comfort only they could provide, because only they understood what I was going through. The others—my human companions—they tried to comfort me, but all of their pitying eyes and concerned expressions only made me feel worse.
And then there was Chris. She’d volunteered for “Dani duty” this morning so she could ride in the front of our caravan and meddle with my brain chemistry. Usually, I appreciated the brand of soothing that was unique to her, but this time I didn’t. I’d let her take the pain away after Cam died, mostly because for days, weeks even, neither of us realized what she was doing. I hadn’t been able to mourn Cam, not fully and not while the feelings were still raw, and I was determined not to let the same thing happen with Ray. I didn’t think I would be able to continue on with another burden of half-closure looming overhead like a thundercloud, always on the verge of bursting and showering me in misery.
“I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” I told Wings and Jack, knowing they would understand my meaning. I’d looped them in on my inner monologue, not wanting to keep any unnecessary barriers between us. Because one day, I would lose them, too.
I stayed with them while the sun slipped behind the tree-lined hills, while the sky turned orange, then red, and then darkened, and while the stars winked into existence overhead. I stayed with them until Jason showed up and pulled me toward our tent, where he tucked me in before heading back out for first watch. But even then, while I lay alone in the tent, I stayed with them.
~~~~~
My eyelids snapped open as a strange blip appeared on my telepathic radar.
“What the hell?” I murmured, closing my eyes to make focusing easier. I was used to random animal minds flitting here and there, coming closer and moving away on the ground, underground, and in the air, but I could always recognize what sort of creature I was sensing. But this mind…it was completely unrecognizable.
It wasn’t overly close, maybe a mile to the south, but it was heading in our direction.
I opened my eyes again, sat up, and crawled out of my sleeping bag. Jason wasn’t tucked in his sleeping bag beside mine, which meant it was still first watch, still before two in the morning. I slipped my feet into my boots and unzipped the tent door. As I exited, I telepathically called Jack to me.
He trotted through the darkness, Cooper right beside him.
“Quiet, boys,” I told them both as they drew closer. “We don’t want to wake everyone.”
The German shepherd and husky sniffed my legs and wagged their tails while I took a moment to scratch each behind an ear.
“Where’s Jason?” I asked them.
Jack grunted and yawned, his version of a whisper, before turning and trotting toward the wagon and cart, which were parked just outside our circle of tents.
I rarely had watch, considering I was on watch via the animal minds pretty much all day and, to some degree, all night anyway; that alone nearly exhausted me, so I’d never had the chance to sit with Jason in the wee hours of the morning, guarding our slumbering companions. I didn’t know his patterns, his favorite lookout spots, his strategies for staying awake.
Splitting my consciousness between my own mind and Jack’s, I could make out a person’s silhouette on the wagon’s bench seat a short ways ahead. I allowed my consciousness to become whole again as I neared the wagon, and the shadow that was Jason became visible to my own, less sensitive eyes.
“Jason,” I whispered. “It’s me. Don’t shoot me.”
“I saw you get out of the tent,” he said, his voice low, dry. “And heard you stomp over here. I know it’s you.”
“I didn’t stomp.”
Jake, who I hadn’t noticed sitting beside Jason, leaned forward. They looked like two heads co
ming out of the same body. “You didn’t tiptoe, either.”
I glared at them both, not that they could tell.
Chuckling, Jason hopped down from the wagon. “What’s up?”
“I felt something…” I focused on the strange mind again. It was closer, maybe a half-mile away now, and still headed toward us. “But it doesn’t feel like any animal mind I’ve ever sensed…and it’s coming our way.”
My eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough that I could just make out Jason’s frown. “Any guesses?”
I answered with my own frown and a shake of my head.
And then I felt another of them—no, two more. They, too, were heading toward us, a short way behind the first one but closing in quickly.
“There’s more.” I squinted, concentrating. “Two of something chasing another of their own kind.” Again, the corners of my mouth turned down, and I shook my head. “I don’t know what they are. They feel sort of familiar, like—”
A horse screamed, and I instinctively slipped part of myself into Wings’s mind. She was standing in the grassy field with a handful of horses from our herd, all sniffing the air and tossing their heads.
“What is it?” I asked her.
“Danger,” she said. “Two-legs. They hunt other two-legs.” She focused her eyes on a shadowy shape rushing across the field, then on the cluster of similar shapes several dozen yards behind it. “They hurt herd-mate.” She lowered her head and sniffed the writhing body of one of the pack horses, who appeared unable to stand.
Eyes wide, I reached for Jason, my fingers digging into his forearm. “It’s people.” I didn’t waste time wondering how I was able to sense some of them. All that mattered was relaying the message. “They’re coming here…chasing another person, and there’s more of them than I can sense—maybe six? Or seven? They hurt one of the horses.”
Jason’s eyes searched mine. “Where?”
I pointed to the portion of the field Wings had shown me.
Jake jumped down from the wagon and whistled three times, paused, then repeated the sound. It was our holy-shit-we’re-under-attack signal. We’d sounded it before, but it had always been a false alarm. This wasn’t.
“Get under the wagon,” Jason ordered, pushing me in that direction. I could hear the others moving around in their tents and the sound of zippers in the suddenly restless night.
“I’m not hiding!”
Jason dragged me toward the chuck wagon despite my protests. “You can do more from under there than you can do out here, so get under the fucking wagon.” It took me an especially dull moment to understand what he meant—the animals. He meant I could call in outside help, raise an army of teeth, claws, and talons.
Staring into his eyes, I nodded and whispered, “Don’t hurt the one in the lead. It’s their prey.”
“I’ll do what I can.” Jason kissed me, hard, then more or less shoved me under the wagon.
I didn’t resist. I was already searching the forest to the south and the desert to the north. If this had happened during daytime, my resources would have been limited, but not at night. Night was when the most dangerous creatures came out to play. Of course, it didn’t matter how dangerous they were if they weren’t close enough…
A female mountain lion was hunting in the desert, about a half mile north of our camp, and a pack of coyotes were hunting a few miles to the east. The coyotes were too far away to bank on, but the mountain lion’s location was a lucky break. And just beyond Wings’s field, several bobcats were watching the pack of not-quite-humans stalk after their prey. A human who, like the other two I could sense, could communicate with the bobcats. Like me.
A second was all I could spare to be utterly dumbfounded, to wonder if that was why I could sense these three humans’ minds—because they could mind-meld with animals like I could. I was getting the impression that my Ability was the only similarity I shared with this roving pack of wild humans.
The mountain lion hissed when I told her what—or rather who—was attacking my camp. She was already sprinting toward me, her leaping strides consuming the distance with astonishing speed. I just hoped she made it in time.
Flat on my stomach under the wagon, I took a deep breath. Reinforcements were on the way. I rolled onto my side and reached for my gun. Which wasn’t there. I no longer had to wear the sling for my broken forearm, but the cast made it almost impossible to don my shoulder holster by myself. My only weapon was the combat knife in my boot sheath, which I never went without—not ever.
I reached down to my calf and drew the half-foot blade just as I felt the first like-me mind—the prey—reach the outer circle of our tents. I squeezed my eyes shut and hoped that Jason had found a way to alert the others that that one wasn’t the enemy.
Footsteps, short and quick, rushed toward my hiding spot. My eyes snapped open and my muscles tensed, ready to strike. Except I couldn’t sense the mind of whoever was approaching, which meant it was more likely a friend than a foe.
“Dani,” Zoe whispered. “I’ve got Sarah. Can you help me get her under there before—”
There was a gunshot, closely followed by a screech from Sarah.
Another gunshot.
I could feel the prey in the center of our circle of tents, stationary but unharmed, as far as I could tell.
Sarah wiggled under the wagon so quickly that I didn’t have time to even think about trying to help her; all I had time to do was move out of the way. Zoe followed, and within seconds, the three of us lay side by side, Sarah on her back, cozy to the point of being claustrophobic.
“What’s going on?” Sarah asked, her voice thready and too high. “Jason sent us here…” Though I couldn’t actually see much of her face, shielded as it was from the dim moonlight by the wagon overhead, her terror was palpable.
“He said we’re under attack,” Zoe added.
“Shhh!” I hissed. Because at that very moment, the other two human minds I could sense neared the edge of our camp.
There were a handful of them; I’d gleaned as much from the horses as the strange humans had passed through their pasture. And tapping into Jack’s and Cooper’s keen senses, I could tell that these intruders were hanging back several dozen yards, staying low and hiding in the tall grasses and behind stray boulders and trees around the outskirts of camp. If they continued to move like that, slow and incredibly quiet—like wolves—they’d be almost impossible to find in the moonless night.
Another pair of footsteps crunched closer, coming from the circle of tents. More of our people, I assumed, but I still gripped my combat knife tightly, preparing to strike.
I watched the darkness as they neared. Knees landed on the ground by the front left wheel just before Ky’s face, a mask of silvery light and shadows, appeared less than a foot from mine. “D—you under there?”
“Shhh…,” I repeated. “They’re really close.”
“We can’t get a lock on ’em,” he said, lowering his voice to the barest whisper. “Ben’s on the other side of the wagon. We’ll keep you safe.” Ky paused. “Any chance of some wolves or something…?”
“No, but a mountain lion’s on her way.”
A low-chorused growl started from right beside Ky. Jack and Cooper had arrived, and feeling their mind signatures so close was immensely comforting. Abruptly, the dogs’ growls intensified, and both moved around the back end of the wagon.
“Shit!” Ben shouted just as one of the strange minds rushed straight toward us.
There was a loud thud, and the wagon creaked and groaned overhead. I heard a wet, tearing sound, and then a thump.
Ben was lying on the ground on Zoe’s side of the wagon, his limbs floundering and his neck glistening in the faint moonlight. Blood as black as tar gushed out of a gaping hole in his neck.
Sarah sucked in a breath, likely for a scream, but I slapped my hand over her mouth before she could actually propel the shrill sound into the night and alert any of the other attackers as to our location. I shou
ld have been paying closer attention to my own reaction.
A low rumble started in my chest. A growl. I was growling, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. It merged with the vicious snarls coming from Jack and Cooper as they circled Ben’s attacker, pushing him away from the wagon.
“Ben…” Ky’s voice was low and pained. I could just make out his boots as he took slow steps along the length of his brother’s body.
Ben was no longer floundering; he wasn’t moving at all anymore. I refused to think about what that meant.
“You killed my brother.” Ky’s voice was rough, harsh. “You fucking piece of—”
There was a gunshot, closely followed by another loud thud, another moment of groaning wood over the three of us, then vicious grunts and snarls. It sounded like Ky was grappling with a bear, though I knew, based on what I could sense telepathically, that it was one of the like-me two-legs. And I couldn’t do a damn thing from under the wagon. But I had other resources.
I handed my knife to Zoe and closed my eyes, focusing on Jack. I slipped into his mind completely, becoming a single, unified entity with him in seconds.
I was Jack.
My hackles were raised, my lips retracted. I licked my teeth, eager to feel them sink into flesh, eager to protect my pack.
“Help me, dog,” the enemy two-legs ordered silently as he wrestled with one of my two-legs pack-mates. “Fight with me, dog.”
I snarled and snapped my teeth at him. The desire to bite—tear—rend—was so deep. It was a need. To protect. I had to protect my pack.
Beneath my paws, I felt the ground shudder. One of my larger pack-mates. I raised my nose high and inhaled deeply. Wings. She was coming. Good.
Out Of The Ashes (The Ending Series, #3) Page 17