by Viola Rivard
The door swung open and as Taylor rubbed her scrapped arm, it occurred to her that the sound wasn’t gunfire, but knocking. She sat up, glaring towards the doorway. The outside light flooded into the cabin, framing the lanky figure that could only be Glenn.
He crouched down beside her, but didn’t speak. Taylor blinked a few times until she was able to bring him into focus. His mouth was open, as if he’d intended to say something, but his eyes were fixed on her chest.
At first she thought that her scar was showing. She hastily moved to adjust her dress, only to find that one of her breasts had managed to pop out of the slit. She tucked it back in, giving him a awkward grin.
“Sorry,” she said, though she immediately thought better of it. After all, he’d been the one to startle her, and then he’d barged into her home.
She intended on giving him a firm tongue-lashing, but when she glanced back up at him, Glenn’s face had gone beet red. He quickly looked away, murmuring an apology of his own.
Taylor couldn’t help herself. She laughed out loud. “You see naked women all the time.”
“But none of them are you,” Lark said, rising from her hammock with a theatrical yawn. “What are you doing here this early, Glenn?”
Still looking flustered, Glenn stood, offering Taylor a hand. She took it, brushing the dust from her dress.
“I’ve been thinking,” said Glenn. “About how we’re always getting shafted when it comes to hunting.”
“That’s cause we suck at it,” Lark said, climbing from her hammock. She was fully nude, but Glenn didn’t seem bothered.
“Maybe you do,” he said. He turned to Taylor. “I’m great at hunting. I’ve caught a lot of things. It’s just that I’m the youngest in the pack. They all still see me as a kid.”
“You are still a kid,” Lark said, running a comb through her tangled hair.
Anger flashed across his face. Too tired to deal with their bickering, Taylor placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Tell me your plan, Glenn.”
He relaxed a little. “The hunting party won’t be out for at least another two hours. That’s plenty of time for us to go out and make our own kill.”
Taylor must have looked as mortified as she felt, because Glenn quickly added, “You don’t actually have to do any of the killing. I’ll take care of everything and we can just say that you helped.”
“What about me?” Lark asked.
“Of course you too,” he said, his lips pressing together.
“I don’t know if I want to see something die,” Taylor said, still on the fence about the whole idea.
“I won’t let it suffer,” Glenn assured her. “And you don’t have to watch.”
“They’re going to kill something tonight whether we’re there or not,” Lark pointed out. “We might as well tag along and take some credit, otherwise it’s cleanup duty again.”
She did have a point, Taylor thought. Just about anything would be better than scraping the guts out of another deer.
“Okay,” she said, smiling at Glenn. “Let’s do it.”
***
Light droplets of rain misted Taylor’s body as she trekked into the woods. Lark had given her a soft pair of moccasins to wear to protect her feet from the rocks and pine needles that littered the forest floor.
It was only after she’d agreed to go that Taylor remembered her vow to stay off of her feet for the day, but as usual it was hard to resist the urge to do things with Lark and Glenn.
They’d been out at least an hour, maybe two. She kept pace with Lark and they trailed behind Glenn, who’d shifted into the form of a shaggy brown wolf. He was much smaller than Alder and Hale, but about a thousand times cuter, though she knew that she couldn’t tell him that. He kept his nose close to the ground as they walked, occasionally speeding up when he caught the scent of an animal.
The forest was fairly quiet and they’d yet to come across any game animals, aside from a few quails. When Taylor had first spotted one of the stout brown birds, her stomach had clenched in anticipation of Glenn attacking it, but to her relief they left it unmolested. According to Lark, the fox shifters enjoyed eating their eggs, so the quails were off limits, except in the wintertime when food was scarce.
Glenn began to pick up speed, and this time he didn’t slow down. Lark took Taylor’s hand, pulling her along with urgency.
“I think he’s gonna get something!”
Taylor cringed and shook Lark’s hand off. “Ugh, you go ahead. I’ll catch up once the killing part is over.”
Lark gave a quick nod before she dashed off after Glenn, disappearing into the trees.
Now that she was alone, Taylor slowed down, taking some of the strain off her ankle. The forest was darkening as the day came to an end, but she wasn’t afraid. Looming over the forest, hardly a mile away, was Halcyon Mountain. For some reason, she felt as though she was safe, so long as the mountain was nearby.
The aged hemlocks began to thin and Taylor paused as something in the distance caught her attention. Taking a detour off the path, she crept towards a small grove. Faint light reflected off a narrow brook that twisted through the clearing. At the water’s edge was a large, mossy stone. A brown pelt had been tossed over it, and beside the rock was a petite female.
Although she was short, her willowy limbs were perfectly proportionate to her height. At first glance, Taylor thought she was a child, but as Taylor came closer, she could make out the narrow, defined face of an adult woman. The woman, presumably a shifter, was bent over the brook, naked and lapping at the water.
As she took another step forward, something crunched under Taylor’s moccasin. The sound was soft, but it seized the shifter’s attention much the same as a cannon blast would have. The small woman shot up to her feet, wild eyes frantically scanning the area.
Feeling terrible, Taylor held up a hand and waved at her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
The woman’s gaze centered on Taylor for one instant, and then the next she snatched her pelt from the rock. In a swift movement she jerked the pelt over her body, as if to cover herself. But then, in a move that could put any magician to shame, she was simply gone and in her place was a long-legged doe. Taylor hardly had time to blink before the doe bounded off into the underbrush.
Unsure of what she’d just witnessed, Taylor rubbed her eyes. She’d seen wolves shift before. It was by no means a slow process, but the woman had shifted in the span of a breath and the pelt… it was as if it had become a part of her body.
“A skinwalker.”
Taylor let out a strangled cry. Her hands flew up defensively as she spun on her heel to see Hale. She wasn’t sure how she knew it was him at only a glance. Probably because she had the strong urge to punch him.
“God, what is it with you people and sneaking up on me?” she hissed, lowering her arms.
As usual, Hale seemed to find her amusing. “You startle too easily.”
She gave him a sour look, but inwardly agreed. The past few weeks had stretched her nerves to their limits. Even her own shadow was making her jump these days. He didn’t need to know that, though.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked.
“This is my territory. What are you doing out here?” he countered.
His face had taken on a blankness that reminded her of Alder, though it was clearly less practiced. There was a small crease between his eyebrows that told her he was irritated. Irritated at what? That she’d been taking a walk?
“I’m not alone,” she told him, squashing back her own annoyance. “I’m with Lark and Glenn. They’re up ahead…”
Taylor trailed off, realizing she probably shouldn’t be telling Hale, of all people, about Glenn’s plan to get them out of cleaning duty.
She twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “Hey, what did you say that woman was?”
“What are they doing?” Hale asked, not allowing her to change the subject.
If he were anyone else, she pr
obably would have made something up.
“Glenn’s hunting. We were hoping he could catch something so we wouldn’t have to clean tonight.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “Beka will hate that.”
It wasn’t what Taylor had expected him to say. “And that’s funny to you? I thought she was your girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” he asked, and he said it in the way the shifters said things when they had no idea what she was talking about.
“What, you don’t have girlfriends here?” she asked.
For the first time today, she looked him up and down before centering her gaze between his eyes. Although it had just been a quick glance, the full picture seemed seared into her brain. The contours of his muscular torso and strong arms reminded her so much of Alder that her mind went down a very bad path. She began to wonder if beneath the scrap of fur that hung loosely around his hips, every part of Hale was the same as his brother.
“I have a few females I prefer,” Hale said, his lips tugging again. “But I don’t play favorites.”
Taylor swallowed and pushed herself off the tree. “How charming.”
She walked past him, feeling the urge to put some distance between them. Hale followed her, seeming content to stay a few feet behind her.
“Did you still want to know about the skinwalker?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah, sure,” she said. She’d forgotten all about the deer lady. “Are they different from regular shifters?”
“Yes and no,” he said. “My uncle once told me that we used to be like them a long time ago, before we started breeding with humans.”
“What makes them different?”
“They’re bound to their skin,” he explained. “They can shed it to take human form, but if it’s damaged, they’re usually stuck that way. Most of them die within a few weeks.”
“That’s awful. Do they live in the den?”
Hale caught up with her, just in time to push a branch from her path. “No. They may be able to look like humans, but they’re all animal underneath. They can’t speak and they don’t understand language. They’re also not very bright, at least, the deer aren’t.”
“There are others, besides the deer?”
“There are a few elk ones in the valley. I saw a swan once, when I was younger. There aren’t any predator skinwalkers left. We’re all shifters now.”
There was a lull in the conversation, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. She hadn’t expected Hale to be so easy to talk to and was practically bracing herself for him to make some off-color remark.
Something grim occurred to her. “You don’t eat them, do you?”
“No. They smell different than their animal counterparts, so it’s hard to get them mixed up, even when we’re hunting.”
Taylor stepped over a fallen log. Hale made no move to help her, but he did wait until she was over it to resume walking.
“Hey, what’s it like to be a wolf?”
It was something she’d meant to ask Alder, but she’d had surprisingly little time with him since coming to the valley.
Hale gave her a strange look. “Can you describe what it feels like to be human?”
She chewed her lip thoughtfully. “Being human is like…being constantly aware of your own limitations.”
He seemed to consider her answer. “In that case, being a wolf is being constantly reminded that you’re not human.” As an afterthought, he added, “Not that that’s always a bad thing.”
It was a strange answer and she couldn’t resist asking, “Do you ever want to be human?”
Hale sighed and when he spoke again, his tone was sharp. “Of course not.”
Taylor felt herself tense. You’re hot and then you’re cold.
“I wish I could be a wolf,” she said, hoping to ease the tension. “It’d be so cool to be able to shift into a giant wolf. No one would ever be able to mess with me.”
She was happy to see humor return to his expression.
“You would be a very small wolf,” he said matter-of-factly.
Taylor’s laughter was cut short by an awful screeching sound in the distance.
“What was that?” she asked, her eyes whipping around the area before settling on Hale.
Rubbing his chin, Hale said, “Sounds like that runt may have made a kill.” His lips curved. “Want to ride me?”
Taylor blanched, heat spreading over her cheeks before she realized what he was referring to. Smirking, Hale took a few steps back, shifting into his wolf form. The shift may have taken a bit more effort than when the skinwalker had done it, but Hale sure made it look easy.
She climbed onto his back, gripping the fur at the base of his neck. Without waiting to see if she was secure, Hale took off, sprinting in the direction of the others. Taylor held on tightly, keeping her eyes on the path ahead, but for some reason, all she could see was Hale’s barely clothed body.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Hale took a roundabout path, enjoying the feel of Taylor’s warm body straddling his back. Earlier, he’d made a point of walking behind her, curious to see what her ass looked like. Seeing it had been a temptation, but having it bouncing against him was sheer pleasure. He tried not to think of the fact that she didn’t belong to him and that in a few moments he would have to put her down.
He wanted to believe that she was no different than the other females his brother seemed to go for: lying, selfish, and manipulative.
Lies had spilled easily enough from her lips the night they’d met. Then, yesterday by the river, she’d not only disrespected him, but considered herself to be above participating in chores. As if not eating meat—which he still did not understand—somehow exempted her from pack duties.
Last night, as she was burning his breakfast, Hale had pried information from her, shedding some light on the circumstances surrounding the murder she’d supposedly committed. Taylor had said she’d acted in self-defense, which he hadn’t doubted. But something about the way she’d told him, for a brief moment, had made her seem vulnerable. He’d had to suppress the urge to comfort her, to tell her that she was safe in his territory and he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
He wanted to believe that she was manipulating him, but the more he was around her, the more he talked to her, the more Hale was beginning to wonder if he’d been wrong about Taylor.
Coming to a stop on a rocky hill, Hale surveyed the scene below. The runt was fighting over a turkey with Holly and Fenix. Though fox shifters were much smaller than wolves, Holly and the runt were nearly the same size. They jerked the mangled bird back and forth with such ferocity that Hale was surprised it didn’t tear in two. Above them both, Fenix beat his wings in their faces and grasped at the turkey with his talons.
“Whoa…” he heard Taylor say. He imagined the sight of a fox, a wolf, and a hawk fighting over a turkey would likely seem odd to her. To Hale, it was just another evening in the valley.
Hale sat, letting Taylor slide off his back. Several of the hunters hung back to watch the fight, which became even more interesting as the raccoon joined in. In her human form, as she always was, she began throwing rocks at Fenix.
“Go away, bird brains! That’s our turkey!” she screamed.
“You didn’t do shit,” one of the hunters called out from the sidelines. “That’s Fenix’s kill.”
A fox in the crowd was quick to correct him. “That’s Holly’s bird. She’s been fattening him up since springtime!”
Hale’s attention was drawn back to Taylor, who was making her way down the hill and heading towards the fight. He realized that in their world, the small human was not unlike a pup. There was a great deal she still had to learn and he had half a mind to let her take a few bumps and bruises so that she would learn her lesson. Not willing to let her go in entirely on her own, Hale followed her.
As they came to the foot of the hill, Taylor had the good sense to stop at the raccoon’s side. Hale hung back, watching as she tried to wrest a rock from the r
accoon’s hand.
“Stop throwing rocks, you’re going to hurt someone,” Taylor chided.
Hale felt strangely proud of her for not involving herself in the brawl.
“That’s the point,” Lark said, wrenching her hand free. “Those stupid animals are stealing our kill.”
The raccoon managed to throw another rock, this one landing squarely on Fenix’s head. It wasn’t thrown hard enough to do anything but momentarily stun him, but once he came back to his senses, he was pissed.
Fenix let out a loud shriek, lunging at the females. Hale knew that Fenix wouldn’t actually attack either of them. Razor-sharp talons made Fenix one of the deadliest shifters in Hale’s pack, and while he would often use them to intimidate the others, Fenix knew better than to actually use them against one of their own.
That logic was drowned in centuries of instinct. Anger burned in Hale’s chest as he saw the hawk descend on Taylor. As she threw her hands over her head, bracing herself for the attack, Hale sprang up, jumping over her to knock Fenix to the ground. A massive wing pinned beneath each paw, Hale lowered his head to the startled hawk, his body emitting a low growl.
When Fenix shifted his arms came free, but he made no move to escape. Averting his eyes, Fenix turned his chin up to expose his neck. He remained silent, and after a few long seconds, Hale backed off of him, shifting into his human form.
The fighting had come to an abrupt halt. The runt sat in his wolf form, the battered turkey hanging in his mouth, while Holly, who had shifted, approached Hale.
“It was one of my birds,” she said, eyeing him with caution. “I told them to leave it alone—”
Hale tuned her out, rubbing his head. His body urged him to turn around and make sure Taylor was all right, which was extremely aggravating. He knew perfectly well that she was fine. Fenix hadn’t touched her and he didn’t smell her blood, only her usual scent mingled with fear.