"Either we're about to be hit by the mother of all storms, or we've come out near the top of the mountain," she said.
"I didn't think we walked that far."
"The darkness can be deceiving. I just hope we get down to the car before the storm breaks."
She grunted in agreement and glanced behind her, staring at the tunnel's entrance as Ethan led her away. Fear rose, threatening to engulf her. Evil was gathering its forces in the darkness. If they got down this mountain without being attacked, they'd be lucky.
If they survived until night, it would be a damn miracle.
So why had they been allowed to walk free? The soul sucker surely would have realized the zombies' attack had weakened them. It didn't make any sense to simply sit back and leave the attack to later when they had the upper hand right now.
"It makes a little more sense once you know we're being followed," Ethan murmured.
She resisted the urge to look behind them again. "By what?"
"It smelled like a wolf when I first sensed it, but it took off into the sky not long afterward."
"A dual-shifter," she murmured. "That's rare."
"Rare or not, it's probably going to follow us right back to the cabins."
"The soul sucker must realize we're not working alone."
"I believe it was you who said it wasn't stupid."
"We can't go back." They'd lead them straight to Gwen, and while her grandmother could look after herself, she was their trump card and the one person they could not risk exposing. Not yet, anyway.
"There's a motel up near the main highway. We'll head there and call your grandmother."
She nodded. Once the attack had hit, it should be fairly safe to go back. If they both survived the attack, that was.
She tried not to think about how tired she felt. How cold she was. How bad her head hurt. Tried not to think about facing the oncoming attack with little more than stakes, silver chains and the protection stones.
Because right now she was more frightened than she'd ever been in her life.
But why?
She frowned as she continued following Ethan down the steep slope. She'd certainly been in far worse situations than this before. If Gran and she could survive a mass attack of demons, as they had in Seattle a few years back, then surely Ethan and she could survive the attack of a couple of vampires and shapeshifters. If that was all the soul sucker sent at them, of course.
Then it hit her.
For the first time in her life, she had something more to lose than just her life. There was a very real possibility that Ethan and she had created a life last night, and it was not giving that child a chance that she feared more than anything.
She lightly touched her stomach. She had to survive, not only tonight, but this whole damn case. The child she carried might be the only good thing to come out of her brief time with Ethan, and she sure as hell was going to make sure they both survived. Because even though she now had something to lose, she also had an extraordinary reason to survive.
They came out of the trees, and she glanced skyward. A solitary bird flew high up, a dark form almost lost against the deeper darkness of the clouds. It was circling, and she had no doubt it was the shifter Ethan had sensed in the tunnel. Given the strength of the approaching storm, most birds worth their salt would be seeking sanctuary right now, not riding the blustery wind.
The storm hit before they reached the car. Not that it really mattered, since she was already soaked and chilled to the bone. Ethan turned the car's heater up to full, but it didn't seem to help melt the ice that had settled deep into her bones.
"We'll be at the motel soon," he said, concern in his eyes as he glanced at her. "You can have a hot shower there."
She nodded and wondered why he wasn't shaking with cold himself. He was as soaked as she was.
"Werewolves have a strong constitution. The cold has never really worried me."
She studied him for a moment, wondering why he was catching some thoughts and not others. He surely wouldn't be sitting there worrying about her being cold if he knew she could be carrying his child. Or was it simply a matter of neither of them being ready — or willing — to push any deeper than surface thoughts?
"So there are some good points about being a werewolf, after all?"
His gaze returned to the road. "Perhaps."
She studied his profile and saw the tension around the corners of his eyes. In the firm set of his full lips. "Why would one woman's reaction set you so against what you are?"
"I loved that woman." His voice was tight. Angry. At her, at the past.
"But unless you were born and raised in a wolf community, you must have witnessed or experienced such a reaction before. You must have been aware it was a possibility."
God, she'd certainly experienced it. And while a lover's reaction of horror and fear was both disappointing and upsetting, it was also to be expected. It was human nature to fear what you could not understand, and those who were more than human had to accept that and deal with it.
Only Ethan's way of dealing with it had been to deny that part of himself. And that couldn't be healthy in the long run.
"It wasn't just her reaction. It was what she did — " He bit the words off and gave her a hostile look. "I thought we agreed not to talk about this anymore."
She sighed. "We did. But I'm a nosy bitch, just like my grandmother."
"Then I'll tell you what I told your grandmother. Stop trying to understand me, because once this case is solved, I'm out of here."
If I don't understand what makes you tick, what the hell am I going to tell our child when it asks about you? She swallowed the thought and the rising tide of anger, and looked away. "I know you're out of here," she replied, keeping her voice even. "You keep telling me that at every opportunity. But that doesn't stop me from being curious."
His anger, frustration and hurt swam around her, an emotive swirl that brought tears to her eyes. What on earth had this woman said or done… the thought faded.
She remembered him stating no child of his was ever going face what he'd had to face. Combine that with what he'd said only moments before — that it was what she did more than she'd said — and the final piece of the jigsaw finally fell into place. Horror snatched her breath, and for several seconds she could only stare at him.
He glanced at her. "What?"
"She was pregnant, wasn't she?"
His knuckles went white against the steering wheel. He took a deep breath then rawly ground out, "Yes." There were some wounds that time never healed, and the loss of a child was one of them.
She placed a hand on his arm, feeling the tension under her fingertips.
He shook off her touch almost angrily. "Maybe now you'll understand why I didn't want to talk about it."
All she could understand was that by refusing to accept what had happened, he was keeping the pain of that night alive and festering deep in his soul. She didn't expect him to forget, because something like that you could never forget, but acceptance was vital if he was ever to move on with his life.
"Did she abort the child?"
"No." He took another deep breath and let it out slowly.
"She said she didn't want the child of a monster in her body any longer than necessary and threw herself down the stairs."
"And it worked?"
A muscle in his cheek pulsed as he battled to not show the torment she could feel through every pore.
"I rushed her to the hospital. She told the doctors I pushed her."
"Were you charged?"
"No. While accusing me, she accidentally let the truth of what had happened slip out."
"And she lost the child?"
"Yes."
She touched his arm again. This time he didn't shake it off, but he was no more relaxed than before. "Just because Jacinta reacted that way doesn't mean every woman would."