by Fox, Piper
When all vestiges of the animal disappeared within the body of a human boy, it left him sprawled naked and faced down on the bedroom floor.
Jo couldn’t speak for several minutes. She simply stared, trying to comprehend what she’d just witnessed. Again.
The boy didn’t move either. He seemed exhausted by what just happened to him. He rested his forehead against the carpet, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he swallowed great gulps of air.
Jo never knew what alerted him to her presence. She didn’t know if she’d made a sound or if perhaps he simply sensed her.
Suddenly, he lifted his head, his gaze striking hers with such force to make her take a step back. She folded her arms defensively over her chest, fearing for a moment that he might attack.
Instead, he stared. He didn’t move a muscle, not one. She didn’t think he even drew a breath.
“I folded your clothing,” Jo said. She lifted her chin toward the window where she’d laid his clothes that first day. “They won’t be wrinkled.”
Aware the unmoving boy was naked and probably wanted her to leave so he could dress, she spun on her heel and left the room. She waited downstairs in the kitchen. It took several minutes for him to follow her, fully dressed in his t-shirt and torn jeans.
He said nothing. Simply stood in the doorway while she lingered near the back door. She hoped to block his way of escape, although there were windows in every room he could climb through. She didn’t want him to leave.
They stared at one another for a long time.
He shook his too long hair out of his eyes and stuck his hands in his front pockets.
She kept her arms crossed protectively over her chest and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
“So…” He said, then cleared his throat. “You’re not calling the cops?”
Jo frowned, then shook her head.
“Cool,” he mumbled. “Thanks.”
“What are you?” She might as well get right to it. But she frowned when he glanced away, as if to avoid her question. “I’ve already seen you. Twice. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
When he reconnected his gaze with hers, she could see him testing her, judging her trustworthiness.
“I didn’t tell anyone what I saw. For days and days. Not even my mom and dad.”
The boy nodded, solemnly. After a lengthy silence, he finally said, “Shifter. I’m a cougar shifter.”
“What’s your name?”
“Patrick.”
She smiled, liking the sound of his voice. “Hello! I’m Josette.” She stepped forward, uncrossing her arms. She extended one hand in greeting. “It’s very nice to meet you, Patrick.”
He stared at her for another long moment, watching her hand stretched toward him as if it might bite her. Finally, his shoulders sagged in such a way that she didn’t realize until that moment he had been holding himself stiff with tension. Then he smiled and took his right hand out of his jeans pocket to clasp hers.
Jo didn’t know if it was his gentle smile, bringing about a lightness to his handsome features, or the touch of his fingers on her hand that sent an electric shock along her arms, but she felt lost at that moment. She knew her future would be linked to his forever.
Chapter 1
30 years later
Patrick loped through the winter forest, the newly fallen snow crunching beneath his thickly padded paws. It had been a while since he’d shifted. Several weeks, in fact. He was overdue since he’d skipped last month’s full moon. Typically, he didn’t push himself to such a limit. He could shift anytime he wanted, but during the full moon the urge to shift was nearly undeniable.
But he’d been busy. Too busy with the garage, with work. Running a business besides hiding his identity as a shifter was more than a full-time job.
That’s what he kept telling himself.
The truth of the matter was, he avoided it. Making every excuse he could to keep close to his family. Even when his sons took the time to run, he kept close to his grandchildren, not wanting to leave them vulnerable with no one to protect them. Not that it ever happened. Between his sons and their wives, and not to mention Geoffrey, they had a system in place to protect each other from those who wanted to do them harm.
But his family been through so much. More than he thought they could handle. To his relief, his sons had pulled through the trauma, even going so far as making a life for themselves. They were happy. Which should make him happy. It did, but…
Patrick was keenly aware of the gaping hole in his life. The one Meredith used to occupy.
At the thought of his dead wife, Patrick took to a run, trying to shake the guilt and remaining grief from his mind as the icy January wind swept over his fur. The cold nipped at his nose and the tips of his ears, but he didn’t mind it. He welcomed the distraction. It kept him from thinking and worrying so much.
There was something nagging at him. Something within him that ate at his soul. He couldn’t identify it.
He thought perhaps it was the desperate need to shift that made him feel this way. That’s why even three days after the beginning of the full moon’s cycle, he was still a cougar, running through the forests of Pennsylvania.
He didn’t even know where he was any longer. He’d shifted outside the little trailer he’d parked beside his son’s cabin in the Pocono mountains and had immediately run into the forest. And here he was, still running.
Running to what?
He didn’t know. But something compelled him to keep running, to not turn back even when he knew he’d had enough in his other form to satisfy that monthly urge to shift.
Instead, he kept moving. Day and night. Just walking, running, yearning to reach some unknown destination that felt beyond his control. Even at the point when he knew his disappearance would most likely worry his children, he kept going.
Patrick couldn’t explain it. He’d never felt this way before. But over the years, he’d learned to trust his instincts. So, he kept going. Taking only quick naps and small breaks to catch a rabbit or two for sustenance. And then he kept going.
He wasn’t even certain which direction he traveled. He didn’t pay the sunlight much mind other than that he could see clearly throughout the day. At night, he used the full moon’s light to guide him.
It wasn’t until days later he came upon a scent that struck him as familiar, a scent he could never forget.
At first, he thought his mind played tricks on him. He paused in his run to sniff the air more closely, determining which direction he’d caught the whiff of peach blossoms.
It alluded him. He moved in several directions, seeking the scent he thought he’d caught. He’d almost begun to think he’d imagined it when he caught it again.
There it was on the wintry breeze. It started to snow again, just a flurry this time, but still he caught her scent and headed in the direction the breeze was blowing.
Memories of the woman flashed through his brain like a recap of a television show. Flashes of images and the emotions that accompanied them. Now that he smelled her, knew she was near, he had to see her. It had been so long. Too long. His desire to see her compelled him forward, distracting him from the need for caution.
He heard her voice before he set eyes on her. Her voice was raised, filled with intense emotion that sent shivers along his spine. She was angry, upset… afraid.
A man’s voice followed. A deep, bassy tone filled with aggression.
Patrick’s protective instincts kicked in the moment he heard the male tones. He couldn’t even make out the words, just the emotion filled sounds. It was enough to tell him she was in trouble. She needed help.
He only slowed his run when he sensed he was near. Close enough to hear the conversation, the shouting match between the two.
Patrick saw them next. Through the naked limbs and branches of the trees surrounding a small cabin-like house, he saw the figure of a woman and man outside.
The man wore jeans, r
ed flannel, and a large winter coat with a warm hat to cover his head. She stood in the light snow, a thick gray sweater the only thing to keep her warm above her leggings and shirt.
She shivered, whether from the cold or her anger and fear, Patrick couldn’t tell. All he knew for certain was she needed help. He caught the scent of her fear along with the pungent peach blossom shampoo she loved. It was a smell he still remembered from the time he spent with her in their younger days.
Patrick paused on the outskirts of the forest as it stretched around the house, keeping his head low and his gaze focused. He hesitated only because he didn’t want to frighten her with his sudden appearance. Her attention fixed solely on the man. Patrick knew if he made his presence known, he would frighten her further.
But their raised voices left nothing to the imagination. His instincts had been true. She was in danger.
“I told you to leave. I’ve already called the cops.”
“How?” The man’s voice was deep and filled with derision as he spoke. “You have no cell phone reception up here. And no phone lines. I’ve checked.”
“Of course, I have reception,” she argued. Only Patrick could hear the lie in her voice. “How do you think I ordered the pizza that was delivered? By telegraph?”
It was all Patrick needed to hear.
He growled low, a wicked sound by any means coming from the darkness of the forest.
Both man and woman turned to face him.
Patrick wasn’t sure how much they could see from the porch light that glared from above the back door of the small house. But he hoped hearing a wild animal would be enough to persuade the man to take his leave.
Instead, the man pulled a gun from inside his bulky coat and fired into the forest.
“What the hell? No, don’t!”
Patrick heard the woman’s cry as the bullet struck his shoulder. White hot pain sizzled through him, jerking him back. He stumbled in the snow, falling for a moment.
“I got ‘em!” The man yelled in disbelief and joy. “Hot damn! I got ‘em!”
“Tim!”
Patrick heard her shout, but he didn’t wait to hear more. He knew from the sound of victory in the man’s voice, he would give chase.
And Patrick welcomed him. If he could lead the man into the forest, away from the woman, it would give her a chance to run.
Patrick wanted to give her that chance. So, he took off into the forest once he heard the man’s footsteps heading in his direction. He didn’t wait any longer. Patrick limped away, running the best he was able with three legs.
He went as far as he could. The pain in his shoulder throbbed with every step.
It wasn’t the first time someone had shot him. Patrick knew he could withstand the pain. But losing blood eventually made him dizzy. Add to that, his many days spent barely sleeping and eating. He was already treading near exhaustion. Blood loss from a gunshot wound did him no good.
Sooner rather than later, Patrick stumbled again. He picked himself back up and then stumbled more. He didn’t give up until he realized the man hadn’t chased him as he’d planned.
Patrick listened closely, but there were no footsteps. No sounds of the man searching for him.
Had Patrick lost him in the woods?
He didn’t think it possible. Patrick hadn’t been capable of running fast. Surely, wounded as he was, the man would have been able to keep up.
Unless, he hadn’t given chase.
The thought sickened him. Had he just left the woman alone with that man?
Patrick turned to go back, but he stepped on a fallen branch that snapped beneath his paws. The sound jerked him forward and he stumbled. The dizziness was getting worse. Perhaps he should rest a moment. Get his bearings.
Just a moment. Then he’d return to the house.
But when Patrick closed his eyes, he didn’t open them again.
Chapter 2
“Did you see that?” Tim shouted with exuberance. Jo’s ears still rang from the loud, sharp gunfire. She had instinctively covered her ears at the first blast. Then he had fired again and again.
Her thoughts were no longer on Tim. Her focus was on the tree line where she’d last seen the mountain lion’s face peering through the low hanging branches and brush.
Jo squinted her eyes, but she couldn’t find any sight of the animal.
It couldn’t be…
Her heart pounded within her chest. Her breath stuck in her throat.
It couldn’t possibly be…
But what if it was?
While Tim hooted and hollered about his marksmanship, declaring for all the world to hear that he’d shot a damn mountain lion, and did you see the size of that thing, Jo scooted backward to the door to the cabin’s kitchen. Inside, tucked alongside of the refrigerator was the loaded rifle she kept for emergency situations just like this.
Tim had taught her, if anything, to always be prepared for the worst.
She grabbed the rifle, checked to make sure it was loaded as she’d left it, and then turned the safety off. Hurrying back outside, she saw Tim heading across the short space between the cabin and the woods beyond.
“Hold it, Tim,” she said, her voice deadly calm.
Maybe it was the calm that caused him to stop and turn around. Her useless shouting at the man was finished. Now, she meant business.
His eyes widened as soon as he spotted the weapon in her hands.
“I will use this if I have to, you know I will,” she stated in that same emotionless tone. “I advise you to get back in your truck and drive away. Now. I’ve already called the cops like I told you. They’ll be here soon. Your choice.”
“Babe…” Tim made to move his hands, one of which still held the pistol, but Jo made a sound of protest and raised the rifle higher, aiming it at his chest. If he so much as made a move against her, she’d shoot him. Jo almost welcomed it. She hated to admit there were many nights she’d imagined putting a bullet in her ex-husband. He more than deserved it, but she didn’t think she could handle the jail time for it.
And deep down, she wasn’t a killer. She was a healer. Tim knew that, too. But he also knew she was an expert marksman. Tim had taught her to shoot, after all. And she knew where to hit him to cause enough damage to knock him down if need be.
She could see that knowledge reflected in his eyes.
“Don’t call me babe.” She narrowed her eyes, hoping he could see the hate in her face, too. “We’re not married anymore. You need to leave me alone.”
“I just want to talk, Jo.”
“We have nothing more to talk about. I said leave.” She kept her finger close enough to the trigger of the rifle, but not directly on it. She didn’t want to shoot him by accident, but there was no way she was going to let him shoot at her first if he was so inclined. He’d fired off three rounds at the mountain lion. She had no idea how many he had in there to start with, but she wasn’t taking any chances.
For the first time since he arrived at the remote cabin, Tim looked subdued. He frowned, casting his gaze to the ground.
Jo didn’t doubt he was only sorry he’d given her the opportunity to grab her own weapon. Otherwise, he’d still be delighted in his continuing abuse and manipulation of her.
“Alright, Jo. Alright…” Slowly, he moved his hand to the back of his jeans where he tucked his weapon. He raised his empty hands for her to see. “I understand you need some time to digest this. I’ll leave you alone for now. I’ll come back later when you’re feeling more reasonable.”
“There’s no need to ever come back.” She wanted to spit the words at him but didn’t want to give him any advantage over her, even with exposing her fury at him.
Instead, she kept the rifle trained steadily on him as he sauntered toward the driveway where he’d left his pickup truck. She took a few steps to the left, keeping him in her line of vision, following him with the rifle.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Tim called back as he opened the driver’s s
ide door. “I forgive you for this. I know it was kinda sudden, me showin’ up here like this. You weren’t expectin’ it. I understand.”
Jo didn’t respond. Didn’t say a word in protest or agreement. He wouldn’t believe her anyway. She simply kept the rifle pointed at him, watching as he slammed the door shut and started the engine.
Inside her head, she screamed. Please, just leave. Go, go! Hurry! Get out of here! Now!
The headlights lit the small yard with bright, white light, illuminating the tiny specks of falling snow. He put the vehicle in reverse, watching her through the windshield as he did so. Then slowly, he backed up the pickup truck until he had enough room to pull forward and accelerate down the long, winding dirt driveway back to the lonely road that led to this remote cabin where she thought she’d find some measure of peace.
It was not to be.
Jo had gone into hiding because of Tim’s obsession with her and his inability to believe that a female might not want to suffer his abuse any longer. She should have known that no matter where she hid, he would find her.
She bit the inside of her cheek, refusing to shed tears. She was done crying. It never helped to improve her situation anyway.
Instead, she remained steadfast in her stance. Weapon raised, not taking her eyes off Tim’s truck until she could no longer see the taillights traveling down the road.
Even then, she waited, fearing he would turn around and come back. The snow fell all around her, nestling onto her sweater, the chill wind biting through the fabric despite the thickness of it.
Inside, she felt the ticking of an invisible clock. How many minutes had it taken for her to force Tim off her property? How long ago had he shot that cougar?
The cougar had disappeared. How far had it gone? She’d heard the big cat’s scream when the bullet struck it. She knew the animal was hurt. But how bad?
And more importantly, was it a cougar? An endangered animal that was rarely seen in the wild any longer, or was it something more? Something… supernatural?