It wasn't like him to be taken by surprise. He sniffed the air around him. Still nothing. So either there was something wrong with his sensory perception or the person out there held no distinctive scent. That was a very frightening concept. He almost preferred the idea of there being something wrong with him.
Sorry, nothing wrong on my end. It's not our senses.
So much for his wolf letting him live in delusions. He heard the second shot as it struck a rock formation right behind him. His eyes widened and a growl formed in his throat. Maybe he should be grateful that whoever did this had such lousy aim.
Shift. We'll go after him. As a human you can use weapons.
I can't smell him or see him. I'm not shifting. I'll be more exposed like that.
But he did need to get away if only to alert the others of the threat on the island. He'd seen the man he'd assumed was the traitor leave in a canoe. That meant this perpetrator was someone else.
Damn.
Tristan needed to know--now. Theo took off running. His paws pounded into the cold ground beneath him. He'd be lucky if he lived to see Spring come into its full glory this year. His last night on earth and he'd spent it arguing with his wolf about whether or not he should meet his mate.
He tore through the bushes staying low, unable to control the snarl from his mouth. His mind tore. Part of him wanted to hunt, to find who attacked him, and tear out their throat. The other, more sane and rational side--which was losing ground steadily--knew he needed to get back to the Institute and tell them of the man on the canoe and the one wielding a gun.
There was no sound behind him, not even a rustle in the bushes to signal a pursuit. Up ahead, he could see the riverbank he needed to follow to the main area of the island. The sloshing of the water as it peaked over the edge of the sharp rocks on both banks told him the river was running high. Not surprising. Two weeks ago, something close to twenty-seven inches of snow had started to melt. All of that excess water had to find some way to run off the island into the Atlantic.
And he could use all of it to his advantage.
As if on cue, another bullet whizzed by his head and exploded into the right side of the riverbank in front of him. The rock broke into small pieces and cut the good side of Theo's face. He barely flinched. After the demon attack, pain was a fleeting annoyance to him. Nothing would ever hurt as much as that had.
He took a deep breath and dove into the river.
Are you going to do what I think you're going to do?
Theo might have snickered if the situation were not so dire. You were the one who wanted me to shift.
His wolf sighed. You're going to take us right over the waterfall, aren't you?
As a rule, shifters never talked about their canine personalities. It was private and just not done, so Theo had no idea if other people had wolf-halves that were so bright. But his furry self was correct. Half a mile south of where they were, the river turned into a raging waterfall that would eventually dump its contents in a lake they called Red Lagoon. Its name came from the strange algae that grew on its bank that turned the edges of the body of water a strange crimson red.
If he was lucky, maybe this time he could pull off the impossible--he could disappear into the water beneath the falls. He would stay as long as he could in his four-legged form before he shifted to make the dive over the water. In his human shape, he would be more agile.
But luck hadn't exactly been on his side of late.
The water felt cold as it pushed against his fur, which meant it was really freezing and he wouldn't be able to handle it for very long in his human form. At least he wouldn't die by a bullet fired by an unknown assassin. There was honor in robbing his pursuer of his kill.
He heard the falls up ahead and called the shift upon himself. Six months had passed but his wolf must have been desperate for the shift because it happened faster than he could ever remember it happening before. A white light engulfed him, bringing for a moment, peace in his soul. He wished he could float in it but before he could blink the sensation passed and he was naked in frothy rushing water.
He closed his eyes and took some deep breaths. They might be the last he'd get to take until he hit the lake and swam a distance under the falls where his pursuer would be unable to see him. Even doing as simple as breathing pulled at the knotted together skin that covered the left side of his face and caused him to grimace. He'd almost forgotten how scarred he actually was.
Hey Mr. Vanity, I hope you can still swim.
Two bullets whizzed by his shoulder, the first one grazed his right arm. Hell, this bastard really didn't know how to use the site on his gun. Nonetheless, he laughed out loud. His wolf was right. Could he still swim? When was the last time he'd tried it?
One last breath and he was over the edge of the falls. It felt like he stayed still and the water and rocks below him moved upwards. He had a moment to think how strange that was before he plunged into the cold water beneath him. There was at least a five degree temperature difference between the water he'd been in and what he was engulfed in now. His body froze from the shock. It wouldn't matter if he could swim. Unless he could get his limbs moving, he would drown.
He'd read somewhere drowning was supposed to be peaceful. But his was not going that way. He fought against his limbs that refused to obey and tried to keep himself from the instinct to breathe in the water. He'd just about given up hope when he heard a splash above him.
Damn, his pursuer was coming after him. He hadn't thought that could happen because he hadn't anticipated getting stuck this way. He blinked as a face approached his and as it became clearer he sucked in a gallon of water. The person trying to kill him owned the most exquisite features he'd ever seen. In a split second, he memorized her visage.
Even under the water and near death, he could see she had chestnut brown hair, streaked with blonde. Her face had a smattering of freckles crossing her perky nose and high cheekbones, barely visible over her creamy white, porcelain skin. Her huge brown eyes held specks of gold in them and did nothing to mask the fury he saw in them at that moment. She tugged hard at him as she tried to pull him to the top.
Why didn't she just let him drown? Wasn't that her objective? His death?
She closed her eyes and he was shocked to see the white light engulf her as she shifted to a wolf form. Brown and gold, she was tiny, even for a wolf.
My would-be assassin is a wolf-shifter. He shouted internally at his wolf.
She bit down hard on his shoulder and dragged him to the top of the water. As he scrabbled along with her, he tried to take a breath and remembered he had inhaled all of that lake water. He choked and the brown and gold wolf goddess who still bit down on his shoulder pulled him into a sitting position as she banged on his back with her tail.
Wicked, hard coughs shook his body and he wished he could just pass out as what he assumed must be half the contents of the lake came out of his mouth. When they finally subsided, he collapsed and covered his head with his hands. The skin under his right hand felt rough and he groaned as he remembered what had driven him into the waterfall to begin with. This shifter woman had dragged him to the surface just to murder him herself.
Through his hands he could see the white light that precipitated a shift fill the air around them and he assumed Brown-and-Goldy was now back in her human form. He moved his hands from his eyes. If he was going to die, at least he'd get a good look at her naked. You had to love the rules of shifting: no matter who did it, they always ended up nude as the day they were born.