Chapter 3

I came to with the feeling of being carried. Light splashed with darkness ran across my eyelids. A heart beat close to my ear and I listened to the sound, entranced by the bass thump of blood carried through a network of arteries and veins and of muscles working together in smooth harmony. Lungs filled and released with the steady breathing of a conditioned body. I swayed back and forth, held in strong arms.

My lungs burned. My eyes flew open at the memory of a fire and smoke, not the same fire that haunted my dreams, but fire that was alive and raging, eating everything in its path and smelling of wiring and rubber.

Light blinded me, then turned to shadow with the sound of trees swaying overhead. The face of the person carrying me blocked out my vision of the trees and something glinted in the sunlight. I squinted and realized it was Rafe's face shield.

My heart slowed. Panic surged through my body so strong I kicked and rolled. I fell to the ground and the air was knocked out of my lungs by the impact. I curled inward gasping, but not before I glimpsed Rafe backing up with his arms around himself, his eyes intent on mine.

I ducked my head and forced the air back into my body. My lungs ached, but not with the burning throb of before. The thought brought back the memory of the fire and of phasing. The last thing I remembered was trying to open the door with wolf paws very inadequate for the job. I looked down at my hands, realizing for the first time that I was back in my human form.

I looked up at Rafe. He leaned against a tree a few paces away, his eyes clouded and unreadable. My heart slowed when I realized that what I could see of his hands were covered in dark red burns. He held them against his bare chest, a challenging glint in his eyes.

I moved slightly and felt the shirt I was wearing. Glancing down, I saw that it was the green one he had worn at the rehab center. A blush of shame rose through my cheeks. I sat up slowly, careful to keep the shirt around my knees and grateful that he was tall.

His eyes, so bold and expressive at the clinic, were now guarded and alert as though he expected me to spring at him and force him to go back. The metal shield across the lower half of his face had streaks of soot along it, matching the black marks across his forehead and through his brown hair. I rubbed a hand across my face and found the same.

“You saved me,” I said softly.

He merely watched me, his hands cradled against his chest.

My eyes moved to the lines across his skin. It took me a minute to realize that they were scars, three great, jagged scars, two down his chest and one lengthwise across his stomach as though someone had cut him open. Far-spaced stitch marks showed little care to how he had recovered.

“Who did those?” I whispered.

He rubbed a hand across his chest, then winced and clutched his fingers back into loose fists. He looked down at the scars and his brow furrowed. “Dr. Tannin,” he replied so soft through the shield that I barely heard it.

My heart clenched and I fought down the urge to growl or hit something, two things completely the opposite of what I would have done before the accident. I sighed and stood up, careful to make sure that the shirt covered at least the important parts. It stopped halfway down my thighs and did little to shield the chill that ran up my legs. “Let me see your hands.”

I took a step closer and he straightened from the tree. His eyes tightened and I imagined him baring his teeth beneath the shield. “You need help,” I pointed out. “From what Roger told me, you should have healed by now.”

He opened his hands slowly and studied them along with me. I touched one and he winced and pulled it away fast enough to make me jump. I laughed at myself for spooking so easily, then held my palm out again. He set his hand in mine, his breath shallow and harsh as though it came out between clenched teeth.

Gouges ran through both palms where he had grabbed the bars. Fresh blood showed in the crevasses and the angry red skin looked infected. I stared at him. “I don't understand. This should have healed.”

His brow creased slightly. “There was a gel on the bars, like on my neck. If I touched it, this happened.”

I reached up before he could move and ran a finger along the metal band around his neck. He jumped back and growled, “What are you doing?”

I held up the finger. “I'm immune to silver. It won't hurt me.” I rubbed the gel between my finger and thumb and saw fine specks of gray in the solution. “It must make the effects of the silver stronger,” I said more to myself than to him. “Maybe it absorbs into the skin.”

“Why doesn't it affect you?” Rafe asked, his tone cautious.

I gave him a smile I hoped was reassuring. “I wasn't born a werewolf. I was made one by Dr. Tannin after I died in a car accident with my brother. Silver doesn't affect Kaynan or I.” It felt strange to say it so casually after what we had been through, but I felt less cautious out in the open under the trees, like a heaviness had been lifted off my shoulders.

He reached up to touch the band around his neck again, but I caught his hand. “I can take it off.”

“The shield, too?” he asked in a restrained tone as if he refused to get his hopes up.

I nodded and light touched his eyes. I smiled at the softening effect it had on what features I could see above the mask.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked softly.

I stepped around behind him and he held so still I wondered if he was holding his breath. Every muscle of his shoulders and back was tense. A long scar ran down his spine from the base of his neck to below his shorts. I shuddered to think of the pain that must have caused.

“You're too tall for me to reach. You'll have to kneel down.”

He hesitated, then knelt with his back to me. His hands clenched into fists on his knees regardless of the burns. I slid my fingers beneath the enclosure on the back of his head and pulled just enough to test the strength. The gel that covered the outside coated my fingers, but the metal gave slightly. I clenched my teeth and pulled with a quick jerk.

The metal popped open and the shield dropped to Rafe's lap. He jumped, knocking me backward before I could move out of the way. My hands shot out to catch me even though Kaynan had told me a thousand times that was a good way to break an arm. I landed with a thud on the leaf-covered ground.

Rafe was suddenly crouched next to me, his expression concerned. His uncovered jaw was bare of scruff, showing him to be closer to my seventeen years than I had guessed. He carefully helped me to my knees despite his injured hands.

“I apologize,” he said, his tone embarrassed. He sat back on his heels.

“It was my fault,” I quickly pointed out. “The stuff burns you. I shouldn't have let it fall.”

Humor touched his eyes, casting away some of the shadows that had added to his age. “You were helping me.”

“You saved my life,” I said defensively. “It's the least I can do.” I couldn't explain why I felt like I had to defend myself, but his suddenly shield-less face seemed so open despite the strong jaw that looked like it was holding back a laugh at my expense.

“You saved my life first,” he said, his eyes on mine.

I was suddenly aware of how close he was. I cleared my throat. “How about the other one?”

He lifted a hand as though to touch the band around his neck, then lowered it again and gave me a sheepish smile. I decided I liked his smile even more now that I could see his lips. “That would be wonderful.” His tone told me how much the thin band had stolen from him.

He turned on his knees and I slid my fingers underneath the metal. His neck felt warm and his skin trembled slightly under my touch. I wondered what would happen when he was finally able to phase. The thought of being alone in the woods in the middle of nowhere sent a shiver through my skin. “Am I going to lose you?” I whispered.

He turned and looked at me, his eyes steady and humor gone. “I won't leave you.” The depth of the promise in his tone left no room for doubt. He waited until I nodded, then turned back around.

I slid my fingers back under the band and pulled slightly. The metal bent instead of giving, closing tighter around his neck. I hesitated. “I don't want to hurt you.”

“Do it,” he said in a voice tight with restraint.

I took a steeling breath, then yanked with both hands. The metal snapped and I kept it in my hands this time.

Rafe fell forward as though the band had been holding him up. He set his forehead on the ground and put both damaged hands across the back of his neck where the band had been. I worried that I had hurt him and moved to touch his back, but his voice stopped me.

“Six months is a long time to be hacked open, studied, then pieced back together for the next guy.”

My heart slowed. I couldn't think of anything to say that would make it the least bit better.

He gave a chuckle and I stared at the tattered body, his face still against the forest floor. “I never thought I'd ever touch pure, clean earth again.” He put his hands on the ground and ran his raw fingers through the dirt. I winced at the chance of infection, but then he lifted his face to look at me. My heart stopped at the look of pure happiness in his golden eyes. A bit of dirt clung to his eyebrows, making him look even more endearing. “Have you ever felt anything so wonderful?”

He pulled my hand open and set a handful of deep, dark earth in my palm. I stared at it, wondering if I had freed a lunatic.

Rafe smiled at the look on my face. He sat back on his heels and ran his arm over his face to clear away the dirt. “I'm not crazy, if that's what you're thinking.”

I tried to protest that I had thought nothing of the sort, but the knowing look in his eyes cut the protest short and I settled for blushing and kicking myself mentally for being so easy to read.

He gave me a perplexed look. “I can't expect you to understand, but I owe you everything.”

A shudder ran through my skin. I pulled the shirt closer, but cold had nothing to do with it. I was about to phase unprotected and out in the open, away from those who had been there to turn to if I ever needed help. My heart started to beat faster.

“I'll phase, too.” At my stare, he shrugged. “It's better to not be alone.”

I couldn't argue with that. I ducked behind a tree and pulled the shirt off, then phased quickly into my wolf form. I walked back around the tree, my paws silent on the soft ground. He studied me for a minute and I turned away from his scrutiny.

“Sorry,” he said. “I've never seen a black and cream wolf. And your eyes are amazing. You're quite beautiful even as a wolf.”

I refused to look at him, but saw him smile out of the corner of my eye. I hadn’t seen many werewolves at the rehabilitation center, but they were usually gray, black, cream, or white; my coat wasn’t too different from theirs, but no one else carried the contrasting colors. My eyes were another matter. Something had changed when I was turned into a werewolf in Dr. Tannin’s labs. My dark blond hair had changed to black with purple highlights, and my blue eyes were now a dark violet color that unsettled me every time I saw myself in a mirror. It was yet another reminder that I wasn’t the same person who had died when Kaynan crashed the car.

Rafe’s footsteps brought me back to the present. He walked around behind the tree and picked up the shirt I had been wearing. He then pulled the drawstring cord from his pants and folded the shirt into a tight bundle. He moved to pull his shorts off and I turned away just in time. If a wolf could blush, I would have been bright red.

“Sorry. Modesty isn't huge in the wild, but I'll take these with us. Easier than finding clothes wherever we end up,” Rafe said with a hint of humor in his voice.

I trotted a few paces away to give him some privacy and bent to smell a cluster of small purple flowers at the base of a tree. A strange scent touched my nose and my heart slowed. I turned, trepidation filling my chest. The woods behind us looked clear, but the scent was stronger. I was about to warn Rafe with a whine when a whistle sounded through the air; I ducked half a second before a bullet sunk into the bark above my head.

I darted to the left several feet, then turned and saw men running at us from the direction we had come. Rafe sprang out from behind the tree, a dark gray wolf whose muscles rippled under his fur. The small pack made of our meager clothes sat at his shoulders like a backpack. He snarled at the men who backed up quickly at his sudden appearance. He darted between them to my side and made sure with a quick glance that I was alright. He then turned and I ran beside him into the trees.

A whirl of bullets flew around us. Rafe let out a slight yelp, then took the lead. He ran left down a river wash to the bed. I followed him around the twists and turns of the river bottom until he found a place to cross up the other side. He slowed after a few more paces and we both tried to listen past our racing hearts and heaving lungs.

I willed my heart to slow and strained my hearing. Everything was silent for a few seconds, then the roar of motors touched my ears. I looked at Rafe and he stared back with wide eyes. He jerked his head for me to follow him and we darted into the underbrush.

It took several miles of running to finally lose them. The scent of blood, sweat, and fear wafted from Rafe by the time we stopped. I started to shake, and Rafe found a small cave between two slabs of stone. He mercifully phased outside, then tossed in my shirt so I could be somewhat decent.

“You can come in,” I said after I had pulled on the shirt. The cold bit into my bare skin after the warmth of a wolf's fur; I shivered and pulled the thin shirt closer around me.

“Are you sure?” Rafe asked after a minute. “You could have the cave to yourself.”

I smiled at his kindness. “It’s freezing out there and we're safer in here.” When he didn't move, I took a steeling breath and spoke the truth. “And I'm afraid to be alone.”

His bare feet scuffed the rocks outside the small cave a moment longer, then he ducked through the opening, a hand on his side. Blood ran between his fingers and his face was pale.

“You need help,” I said, alarmed.

He leaned against the rock wall and gave a wan smile. “Not too many doctors out here.” He took his hand away and I gasped at the bullet wound through his side. He prodded it gingerly. “Looks like it came in the back and went out the front, otherwise I'd be dead by now.”

“Why is that?” I asked with a pit in my stomach.

“It was definitely a silver bullet the way it's taking so long to clot. If it hadn't gone out, that much silver would probably kill me.”

“And you just ran five miles after being shot,” I pointed out, trying to stay calm. “That really doesn't help.”

“True.” He slid down the wall to a sitting position, leaving a streak of dark red behind him.

“That needs to be cleaned,” I said carefully even though I had no idea how to go about cleaning it.

He shrugged. “It'll heal by morning, or I wake up dead.”

“Nice.” I tore a strip off the bottom of my shirt and led him outside to the small stream we had passed a short ways back. He gave me a strange look when I took his hand without giving him a chance to argue, but he followed me into the graying dawn. “Kneel down.”

He did as I asked, his eyes guarded. I dipped the rag in the stream and washed the entrance and exit of the wound the best that I could. Rafe's breath caught in his throat at the cold water. “I'm not exactly fond of icy streams,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Better than nothing.” I hoped I was right. At least the wound looked somewhat better by the time I wrapped it in another strip of the shirt and led him back to the cave.

He stumbled at the entrance and I had to catch him before he fell to his knees. He gave me an apologetic smile. “Just tired. I'll be better after I rest a bit.”

I eased him down against the wall and he tipped his head back and closed his eyes. I sat down across from him, resigned to another few sleepless days.

His breath lengthened and I thought he had fallen asleep when he said without opening his eyes, “Why did you save me?”

I stared at him, but he kept his eyes closed. Hundreds of answers raced through my head, generic answers about how anyone would have done it, how everyone deserved a chance to live, and how I was heading that way anyway, but they were all lies. Roger and the others had left him there to die in the fire, though by accident or on purpose I had yet to tell; I could name several men that had shot at us that I didn't feel deserved to live; and the analysis center was exactly opposite from the exit I needed to take to escape the fire. I took a breath, let it out slowly, then told him the truth. “It was your eyes.”

He tipped his head toward me and opened his eyes slightly. “My eyes?”

His tone was even, but I felt myself blushing anyway. I looked away. “You have honest eyes. I know it's silly, but I felt like I could trust you.”

He fell silent for a minute and when I looked back, his eyes were closed again but there was a small smile on his lips. After several minutes, he said, “You can trust me.”

“I know.”

He fell silent, then opened an eye and looked at me. “You're not tired?”

“Exhausted,” I admitted. “But being changed into a werewolf also gave me insomnia. I don't sleep much.”

He thought about it for a second, then opened both eyes and sat up gingerly.

“But you should sleep,” I said quickly, worried about how weak and worn he looked.

He ignored my comment. “What do you do when you can't sleep?”

“Come talk to you,” I said with a small laugh.

He nodded and motioned for me to sit by him. I gave him a calculating look and he laughed, then grabbed his side. “Ouch. It's not like I'm going to take advantage of you. You said you trust me, remember?”

“I trust your eyes. I don't know about the rest of you,” I shot back, but I moved to sit next to him. The close proximity was both comforting and unnerving.

“You can trust the rest of me,” he said softly into my ear.

A shiver ran through my skin at the warmth of his breath on my ear and I had to force my heart to beat normal so that he didn't hear it. He waited a moment, then lifted his arm so that I rested against his uninjured side. He leaned his head back against the wall and I listened to his heart beat and the steady rise and fall of his breath.

A slight rain began to patter softly outside. We sat in silence for a minute, then Rafe began to hum a soft tune I didn't recognize. After several minutes, he started to sing. His voice surprised me. It was warm and full, reminding me of the rolling thunder before a spring storm. He sang a soft song about a fox lost in its own forest. The song lulled me into a thoughtless calm that chased away my fears of the men who were after us.

It took me a while to realize that he had stopped singing. I glanced up to see his chin on his chest and his breath steady and slowly. I moved slowly from under his arm and eased him carefully to the ground on his good side. He shivered and I wished I had a blanket to put over him the way my mom always did for me when I was sick. The thought sent a pang through my heart and I rubbed my shoulders against the cold.

An irrational urge to curl up next to him ran through my mind, but I pushed it away with a quiet laugh at myself. Apparently after being turned into a werewolf and chased with a stranger through the forest after said stranger rescued me from a burning inferno, I was ready to forget all boundaries for him.

The rational side of me argued that he had indeed saved my life, possibly taken a bullet for me, and sang to me to help me sleep. Rafe shivered again and my werewolf eyesight made out a sheen of sweat on his skin. I sighed and laid down behind him with my back to his. It was the closest I could force myself to bend. The feeling of his hot skin against my back drove all thoughts of sleep from my mind. I stayed awake through the early hours of the morning listening to his fevered muttering and shuddering breath with the fear that he would need more medical help than I could give.

The thought reminded me of Kaynan, and I wondered how my brother was taking the fire. I hoped everyone had made it out. I hadn't seen anyone on my dash from my room to the analysis center, so I rationalized that meant the others had escaped before me. My deep sleeps after days of insomnia made me practically dead to the world. I could only hope we were in a safe place the next time my body gave in to exhaustion.