by Faye Avalon
He tried to see her face, but she only clung.
“She’s out there somewhere,” she said, her voice muffled. “He’s taken her.”
He simply lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the kitchen, where he set about divesting her of the sodden clothing. “You could catch your death,” he grumbled while she shivered. “What possessed you to go outside and—”
“He’s taken Willa.”
Her face was ashen, her eyes far too big for her face, and Nathan could almost hear her teeth chattering.
“No, sweetheart,” he soothed, grabbing a towel to wipe her down. “Meers hasn’t left London. I’ve had someone watching him.”
Her eyes went even wider. “There’s a note… He broke in again and left a note.”
Before he could begin to work out what had happened, Nathan knew he needed to get Erin warm and dry. “You need to take a hot shower, and then we’ll…”
She shook off his hand. “Nathan, he’s taken Willa. She’s out there on the moor somewhere. Read the note if you don’t believe me.”
She gestured to the counter and the paper lying there. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to reason with Erin if she thought her dog was missing, he shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it around her. He consoled himself with the thought that at least he’d managed to get her out of her wet sweater and jeans.
No sooner was his jacket around her than she grabbed the note and thrust it at him. “He’s left her out on the moor. I don’t know if she’s hurt, or if she can even move, or…”
“It’s okay,” Nathan said, scanning the note. “We’ll find her.”
He reasoned that while Meers had been in London, he wouldn’t put it past the bastard to hire someone to do his dirty work for him. And they’d need to be a crack operator to get past the locks that he’d installed.
Nathan filed it away. Working out the how was a problem for another time. Right now he had a badly shivering and almost inconsolable Erin to take care of, plus a beloved dog to rescue.
He already knew that a young pet with no survival skills wouldn’t stand much of a chance on the vast and unforgiving moor, especially in current weather conditions, which were set to deteriorate according to the local forecast.
He had to find the dog fast. And he knew there was only one way to do that. Only one way to track her and pick up her scent.
He had to shift into his panther form.
“I want you to go upstairs,” he said firmly, holding Erin’s shoulders and making her look at him. “I want you to go into my closet, find a pair of sweatpants and a warm shirt and put them on. No argument, Erin,” he said when she opened her mouth to protest. “I’m going to find Willa, but I need to know you’re okay.”
He thought she’d put up a fight, but then she nodded. She was about to turn away when she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him hard. “I’m glad you’re home. I missed you so much.”
He pushed his nose into her wet hair and drew in the scent of her. “I missed you too, sweetheart.”
He kissed her, soft and gentle, and the warmth seeped into his bones, kindling the fire that always simmered when he was around her.
With his arm around her waist, he led her into the hallway and watched as she went upstairs. When she was out of sight, he picked up her keys on the hall table and went outside to her car. He pulled out Willa’s blanket, closed the car door and made his way around the side of his house to the covered terrace. He placed the blanket on an old box and went back inside.
Erin came down the stairs in a pair of his sweats rolled up from the ankles, and a chambray shirt with the sleeves pushed to her elbows. She looked so damned forlorn but so beautiful, she made his throat catch.
Whatever hell he needed to do to find her dog, he knew he’d do in a heartbeat.
“There’s clean socks in the laundry room,” he said, drawing her into his arms to kiss her lightly again. “Put some on before you get frostbite.”
It was the dumbest thing to say, because her eyes welled. “She’ll be frozen out there, Nathan. She won’t know what to do, or where to go.”
He smiled at her. “Dogs are smarter than we give them credit for. And you didn’t raise a dumb-ass. She’s all there when she wants to wheedle a biscuit, knows exactly what button to push.”
“It’s not the same…”
“I know.”
He kissed her again, pleased when she responded by running her fingers into his hair and clinging to him as if she never wanted to let him go.
He drew back. Despite what he’d offered her in words of comfort, he knew that time wasn’t a friend for Willa right now. They didn’t know what state the dog was in or what part of the moor she’d been dumped on.
“Why don’t you get some old towels ready? And cook up some of that beef in the freezer. Willa’s going to be cold and hungry when I find her.”
She nodded and pulled back. “You’ll need a warm coat.”
He let her go out to the hallway and bring him back a padded jacket and gloves, knowing he wouldn’t need either but not wanting to alert her to the fact.
He hiked on the coat and pulled on gloves. Then he tapped her on the nose. “Don’t worry. We’ll be back before you know it. Both of us.”
She came to the patio doors with him, and ran her hand down his back. “Be careful. Do you need a torch or something?”
“Yeah,” he lied. “I’ll pick one up from the garage. Now go inside and start cooking up that beef. I’ll be ready for something myself when I get back.”
She nodded, but he could tell she was only half listening. “Have you got your phone? Will you call me and let me know what’s happening?”
He wouldn’t be capable of making phone calls, but those worry lines that scored her forehead made him nod. “I’ve got my phone, but reception’s patchy on the moor, so don’t worry if you don’t hear from me.”
From her frown, he knew she didn’t like that answer, but he kissed her again and said, “Go inside.”
He waited until she did, then made his way behind the back of the garage and toward the side terrace.
He picked up Willa’s blanket and pushed his nose into the fabric. Closing his eyes, he drew in the dog’s scent, allowing it to permeate his senses. Opening his eyes, he glanced toward the house, then dropped the blanket and went toward the edge of terrace. He slipped behind the high wall that separated the house from the side terrace and shucked out of his boots and jacket. His shirt and jeans followed, the icy air whistling around his naked body and bringing him to full alert.
After another glance toward the house to check he wasn’t being observed, Nathan planted his feet, closed his eyes again and drew in a deep inhale.
He wondered if the speed of the change that shot through him was powered by worry and concern for Erin’s dog. Usually, he could control the shift from human to panther in minute detail, feeling first that primitive surge of energy that came from his core and spread through his limbs, and then the subtle transfer of matter until he was a fully formed primal beast. But tonight it seemed to happen simultaneously, a rapid-fire transformation that turned him in an instant. One moment he was standing on two feet; the next he was on all fours.
He sniffed the air, using his sharpened olfactory powers to separate the scent of the moor from that of his quarry. Instinct took over and Nathan padded out onto the moor, careful to avoid the light emanating from the house where he knew Erin would be watching.
He headed north, all the while scenting his surroundings and relying on his heightened visual and auditory skills. He followed the moorland river near Golitha Falls, and out over the downs toward Brown Gelly. The reservoirs he passed were already glistening with the snow that fell heavier as night blanketed the land. He took a sharp right toward Smallacoombe Downs, driven toward the timber-strewn acreage rich with spruce and pine.
He had no sense of time passing, but soon he edged the forest and stalked through the trees. Small animals skittered out of his path, while foxes and deer sent out alarm barks and snorts, warning of a dangerous predator in their midst.
Focused and vigilant, Nathan followed his instincts through the dense and darkening landscape. He stopped, alerted by a sound that stood out from the myriad others. He snapped his head around, sniffed the air again. The scent of canine was thick and familiar, and once more Nathan took off, delving through thick undergrowth while the snow fell in huge, wet flakes.
Momentarily, he lost the scent and stood searching his surroundings. All his senses alert, he emitted a low growl. The answering whine came weak and pitiful, but it was enough to guide Nathan to a boggy inlet where Willa lay soaked and shivering.
Getting closer, Nathan saw that the dog’s back leg was caught in a crisscross of fallen branches. Closer still, he realized Willa’s leg was actually tied with rope.
Pity for the bedraggled animal came fast, but hot on its heels came fury. That an innocent animal should suffer at the hands of a man intent on such cruel and spiteful revenge found no favor with Nathan. But right then his priority was getting the dog freed and home safely to Erin.
Willa watched him carefully as he padded toward her, her tail wagging in that often trusting way an injured animal had for its rescuer. Nathan set to work biting at the rope, tugging and pulling, shaking his head to loosen the knot. He used his claws to paw at the stubborn tie, and eventually it began to unravel.
Freed, Willa stood, shook herself, then set to licking Nathan’s whiskers. Since the snow was falling thicker, Nathan shook off Willa’s attentions, then turned and began heading back with the dog in close pursuit.
* * * * *
The smell of roasting beef turned Erin’s stomach, but she consoled herself with the thought that her queasy stomach would be worth every nausea-churning moment if she could just look out the patio window and see Nathan and Willa coming home.
She glanced at her watch again. It had been two hours since Nathan left, and now the evening was dark and icy cold. The snow fell heavier and heavier, cushioning the patio and terrace in a thick layer of white.
She’d thought to try Talia and Naomi again, to alert them to Nathan’s lone trek out on the moor to find Willa, but since their men had been away and were likely both driving home in this atrocious weather, she didn’t want to worry her friends any more than they probably were already.
She shivered, which reminded her that she needed to put more logs on the fire in the sitting room. She’d started the fire soon after Nathan left, hoping it would take her mind off things and provide Nathan, and, please God, Willa, with much-needed warmth on their return.
There hadn’t been many logs left in the basket container to the side of the fire, probably because Nathan had been away and hadn’t had the opportunity to replenish. Which meant she needed to go outside and gather more from his stockpile.
The lights that shone over the patio cast strange shadows against the snowfall, and Erin wrapped her arms tightly around herself. She looked out toward the moor, into the dense and now incredibly bleak terrain. She had never felt so alone, so wretched as she did standing there with no knowledge of what was happening. Nathan might know the moor like the back of his hand, but people perished out alone in inclement weather no matter how familiar their surroundings.
Aware that standing there and worrying herself half to death would do Nathan no good at all, Erin focused her attention on building up the fire. She found a pair of Nathan’s old boots and a jacket, then opened the doors and stepped out onto the patio. A blast of icy air wrapped itself around her body, chilling through the warmth of Nathan’s borrowed sweats. In seconds, her face felt like a mask of ice, and her breath sliced an arctic course from her nostrils to her lungs.
They must be freezing out there.
Before her thoughts could spiral downward again, Erin glanced around and tried to determine where Nathan would store the wood. She noticed the high wall to the side of the house and the archway that led to a covered terrace. Pulling the jacket tight around herself, she hurried across.
The wood was piled high against the inside of the wall, and Erin began gathering chunks of it in her arms. She looked around for some sort of container, and spotted Nathan’s boots beside a battered wooden box. On top of the box was his jacket, the padded one she’d helped him into before he took off in search of Willa.
She dropped the wood and walked over to the box. Underneath his jacket lay his sweater and jeans. Erin picked them up and looked around. What in heaven’s name was Nathan doing stripping off out here in this weather? Had he changed into all-weather gear? If so, why hadn’t he told her? Why had he gone through the charade of getting suitably dressed in her presence?
She bundled the clothes and picked up his boots. There was no point in leaving them out here. She hunched her shoulders and lowered her head against the elements, and started back around toward the patio.
She busied herself with another two trips out to the terrace, gathering wood and bringing it back in, where she placed it by the fire. She made up yet another pot of coffee and took a cup into the sitting room. Her gaze slid to where Nathan’s clothes were warming on the chair she’d pulled near the fire. She couldn’t for the life of her think why he’d changed in the first place, let alone not telling her he was going to do so.
She stayed a full minute, sipping coffee and staring into the fire’s flames, before she was up again and moving to stand in front of the patio windows.
It was strangely hypnotic watching the snow falling from the skies, and she cradled her coffee between her palms and prayed with everything she had that the two loves of her life would come out of the darkness and into the safety of her arms again.
She loved them so much. Yet she’d never told Nathan. What had been holding her back? Was she afraid he wouldn’t return her love? Was she still holding on to her past, to what Justin had done to her? To hell with that.
The moment Nathan came back, she was telling him. She was going to tell him she loved him. With all her heart.
Emotion clawed at her throat, and along with it came the overwhelming need to see him, to hold him, to tell him the depth of her feelings for him. In seconds, she was on the patio again, hurrying toward the edge and stepping out onto the moor. It was as if she were drawn by an invisible cord, an urge so compelling that it defied every sane thought in her head. All she knew was that she needed to get to Nathan. She knew he was hers. That she was his. They were meant to be together, and something primal linked them, connected them. Something that went beyond logic and reason.
A movement beyond drew her attention deeper into the darkness of the moor, and through the snow, Willa came charging toward her.
Erin’s heart flew into her throat and her knees almost buckled. She dropped the cup and held out her arms, encouraging Willa into them. She hugged her wet, bedraggled body and cooed words of reassurance to her dog, but her eyes searched for Nathan.
A flash of movement to the side brought her head around, but she saw only falling snow, beyond which the desolate moor seemed strangely hypnotic.
From the corner of her eye, she saw it again. Barely discernable and she might have missed it were it not for her heightened nerves and growing anxiety. She stood, peered into the distance, and saw something…shimmer.
She jolted back and watched in morbid fascination as a shape formed from the darkness. It was impossible to make out what it was, but it was large, moved stealthily, and appeared to be heading for the patio.
She must have made a sound because whatever it was came to an abrupt stop. Snowflakes settled on the shape, making it shimmer again, then a pair of golden eyes stared straight at her.
Her hand flew to her chest, and she stumbled back, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Her mind raced as it searc
hed for answers, for clarification. But it seemed intent on playing tricks on her.
It had to be down to the stress she was feeling, the worry and concern. It had to be down to everything that had happened to her before and after she’d arrived in Bodmin.
Because despite every rational and coherent explanation her frazzled mind tried to formulate, in that moment, Erin knew only one thing for certain.
Out of the darkness, amidst the icy temperatures and pitching snow, a huge black panther was stalking toward her.
Chapter Fifteen
Blind terror kept Erin rooted to the spot, and she stared at the creature lurking at the far edge of the patio.
The panther was huge, its glossy black fur sprinkled with snow while its golden eyes shone out. It stared at her, and she stared back, held spellbound by its penetrating gaze.
Her heart thumped painfully against her ribs, her flesh clammy and her limbs numb. She tried to swallow but had no spit. Her head screamed run, but instinct told her to stay still.
Oh God. Where was Nathan? Was he okay? What if the panther had hurt him and he was lying injured out there?
Willa was racing around as if the sight of a panther in her immediate vicinity was a normal occurrence and one she welcomed. The dog jumped up at Erin, then ran off to circle the panther as if inviting it to play.
Icy panic layered over her clammy flesh, and Erin wanted to scream at Willa to stop, to get inside. Any second now, the beast could lunge at her dog. Frantic, she searched her memory for something to use as a defensive weapon. She remembered the axe beside the wood pile, but that was behind the side terrace wall and too far away to contemplate.
She took a very slow step back, ordering Willa to stay the hell away from the creature. Fear made Erin’s throat muscles contract again, her mouth so dry, she almost gagged.
The panther remained motionless, its vigilant gaze fixed on Erin, who continued to take slow and measured steps backward and toward the house. Erin called to Willa again. With some reluctance, the dog eventually obliged and trotted to her side.