Another bullet dodged.
Then his scent filled the air and he was before me. I launched straight at him, teeth bared, a growl rumbling up my throat.
He scrambled backward, excitement and fear flashing across his features as he attempted to raise the rifle and use it as a club. I was on him before he succeeded, my teeth slashing past cloth and deep into flesh. Blood filled my mouth, exciting the wolf, sickening the human. I ignored the latter, ripping my teeth sideways, taking a huge chunk of flesh with me.
He screamed and hit me hard in the side. It felt like iron, that blow, and pain rose—a red tide that momentarily blotted out the wolfs eagerness. Winded and aching, I leapt away, spitting out his blood and skin as I twisted around to face him.
His left arm was a torn mess. Blood poured from the wound, soaking his shirt, filling the air with its scent. He was lucky. I'd been aiming for his neck, and I hadn't missed by much.
"For this," he said, moving his bloody left arm, "you will pay."
I bared my teeth and growled, then hunkered down low and launched myself at him again. He swung the rifle around, using the stock like a club, the weapon swishing through the air with enough force to break bones. I twisted away, felt the breeze of it skim past my already bruised side. My claws dug into the soft soil as I hit the ground, the dirt flying free as I jumped at him again.
I was in the air when I felt the burn of approaching silver. Heard the crash of steps through the trees behind us.
Yohan, coming to save his brother.
Rhoan and I might not share the telepathy of twins, but these two sure did.
I twisted awkwardly, making bones crack along my spine as I dropped to the ground. The bullet crashed past the tip of my ear and exploded into a nearby sapling, sending leaf and branch matter flying. I lunged forward, tearing at Jorn's legs, slashing through his skin and drawing blood. He lashed out again, the rifle butt coming down hard on my side. I yelped, and dove for the shadows of the nearby trees.
I might be a guardian, I might be speedy and strong, but a silver bullet could still bring me down. And it was far better for me to tackle them one at a time. Especially when it was becoming increasingly obvious that while these two might be human, they had reflexes and senses as sharp as any nonhuman.
Killing them wasn't going to be as easy as I'd presumed.
I shifted back to human shape, using the change to help ease the ache in my side, then ran on, down the hill, up the next one, trying to get some distance, some maneuvering room, between us. But they remained annoyingly close.
I wasn't making that much noise, not now, nor was I leaving that much of a trail. Running as I was, there was always going to be signs to follow, but they shouldn't have been able to track me this easily while running flat out. And yet they were.
Did they have psychic skills other than telepathy? I was beginning to think that was probably the case. I'd never actually heard of a talent that allowed people to track nonhumans, but as Rhoan was wont to say, there were more strange things on this earth than we would ever know about.
I ran a hand across my forehead, flicking away sweat, my gaze searching the trees ahead. The scent of the sea was growing stronger, and the treetops where beginning to shiver with a sea breeze. The last thing I needed was to find myself out on the sand. I needed the trees as protection from the bullets until I found a way to separate the two of them again.
Awareness of the twins surged again, and a second later the air screamed a warning that several bullets were hurtling toward me. I threw myself down, sending leaf matter and dirt flying as the bullets burned over my right shoulder and pinged into a nearby trunk. Bark exploded into the air, raining down around me. For several seconds I lay there, listening to their light steps, the easy way they seemed to move through the forest. Was it worth confronting them? I could take the two of them, I had no doubt of that. The only problem was the silver bullets. It would only take one to end my fight, and with Rhoan still captive, I dared not risk getting hit. Better to run, to wait for the right moment.
Only patience had never been one of my virtues, and I was getting more than a little pissed off at being shot at so much.
I blew out a breath, then scrambled to my feet and ran on up the steep slope. The thick lushness of the island's interior was giving way to a wilder, scrubbier look, and the wind was stronger, battering its way through the trees and finally reaching through the wool, chilling the sweat against my skin. It was an almost pleasant sensation.
The rise in the land sharpened abruptly. The leg that had been shot with silver previously was beginning to not only burn, but feel weak. Like the barely healed muscles just couldn't go on. My limp was certainly getting more pronounced.
Sky came into sight, a pale blueness peeking through the trees, calling me on. To what was anyone's guess, but it had to be better than this goddamn slope and the bastards hunting me.
Another bullet burned through the air. I dropped, winding myself even though I didn't think that was possible, given my current breathless state. The bullet cracked past and disappeared into the inviting blue-ness. If I could get down the other side of this slope fast enough, I might buy myself enough time to find a way to separate them. And once I did that, the bastards were dead.
I surged to my feet and ran on, my gaze on that blue-ness and the promise it offered.
But I should have been looking at where I was going. Or rather, where the land was going.
Because I reached the crest and suddenly there was nothing underneath me.
No ground, no leaf matter.
Nothing but air.
And I was falling, tumbling, down into that emptiness.
Chapter Thirteen
I'd only been a pup when Blake had thrown me off the cliff. But even now, I could recall those moments clearly, simply because the world around me had suddenly seemed to slow. Oh, the wind had battered me full force and the ground had rushed toward me, filling my vision, filling my world, forever embedding itself into the worst of my nightmares. It was just time itself that crawled. The falling seemed to go on and on and on. The ground rushed toward me and yet never seemed to get closer. I'd screamed, I'd quaked, I'd fought to grab something, anything, to stop my fall or to at least break it. To no avail.
But never once in any of those long minutes had my life flashed before my eyes.
Maybe it was because I'd been so young, had done so little.
I was older now.
And as I fell toward the sparkling blue of the ocean and the jagged rocks that lined the cliffs base, images of my past reeled drunkenly before my eyes—the flashes almost too fast for me to even see them. Mostly they were memories of good times. With Rhoan, with other people I'd cared about, and boyfriends of old. And there was Quinn, who could have been something more had he only played it fair.
But with all those memories came something else. Something deeper. Stronger.
Regret.
For all the things I hadn't done, for all the steps I hadn't taken.
And the biggest of those regrets was Kellen.
I should have given him the time he wanted. Should have given him commitment.
I should have shoved the fear aside, and made a grab for my dreams. He'd been right in saying that I was never going to find what I was looking for if I didn't occasionally stop looking and take a damn chance on someone.
Dammit, I didn't want to die!
Not now, not when there was finally someone in my life that I loved, someone who showed every sign of being the one. And even if it turned out that he wasn't my soul mate, then at least I could say I gave it a go. At least I'd know the fear of being left broken hadn't stopped me living life to the full.