Head Above Water (Gemini: A Black Dog #2) (13 page)

Because it came from behind us.

I glanced over my shoulder, and my knees turned to water. The silver wolf taking his time approaching us was covered in blood. His muzzle dripped with it and his paws were splashed with it, the kill was so recent.

Please let that be from a bunny.

“Climb.” I knotted the shirt around Imogen’s throat and shoved her behind me. “Get as high as you can.”

“What about you?” She didn’t wait for my answer.

“I’m just waiting on you,” I snapped.
“Move.”

Trembling as she climbed, Imogen wasn’t going fast enough. She was tipsy from the blood loss, and fear clouded her like rank perfume. I breathed it in over my tongue and wanted to spit out the taste. Graeson, though, smelled of the woods, of coppery wildness that made my stomach taut with hunger for a taste of the freedom he experienced on four legs.

He lifted his head and sucked in air until his sides rounded.

“Camille.” Imogen grunted. “Hurry.”

I risked a glance behind me and spotted Imogen high enough I could start climbing. Pulse thrumming in my ears, I waited seconds longer. I needed more room, or all the wolf had to do was jump up and latch on to my leg to haul me down to the ground under him.

Movement from the wolf snagged my attention. He sauntered closer, head cocked at an angle as he watched Imogen climb as though confused about why prey would do such a thing. I checked Imogen’s progress and all but crossed my fingers the wargish limbs would help me scuttle up to the platform.

“Graeson.”
The mental touch slid off his mind like water off a duck’s back. There would be no reasoning with him when he was like this.

Heart a wild thing fluttering in my chest, I spun and grasped the first rung. I made it up three before teeth closed over my ankle. I blessed my leather boot, fisted the wooden slats and kicked out with my other foot. Graeson whined and hit the ground. The precious seconds it took me to establish a new foothold was all he needed. He leapt again, and his teeth pierced my lower calf and ripped. I kicked him off a second time but barely, his fangs shredding meat as he fell.

“Hold on.” Imogen reached down for me. “Take my hand.”

I flung my arm up, and our wrists clasped. My ruined foot found purchase, and I hauled myself up higher. The wolf below me howled with rage. The tension in my chest released a fraction. I’d made it. I was higher than he could reach. I could take my time and—

Steel jaws clamped over my heel and hung on tight. At once Imogen and I supported our weight…and the couple hundred pounds of snarling adult male warg dangling from my foot. Together we held our position. His grip slipping, Graeson began swinging his body and shredding my boot through to my flesh. The taste of blood incited him, and he struggled with renewed vigor. Warm moisture plinked onto my cheeks. The strain was ripping open Imogen’s wounds.

“You have to let me go.” I heaved a sharp breath. “I can’t hold on.”

“Camille.” Her hand clamped down over mine.

“You wanted this, remember?” I let my hand go slack. “Save yourself.”

Her expression twisted, a decision being made. “No.”

A moment of clarity cooled my fevered thoughts. She was too weak. She couldn’t save me. I was too far gone to rescue myself. All she could do was fall with me, and what was the point in both of us dying?

Breaking her grip was easy. I twisted my wrist, and Graeson’s weight did the rest.

The wolf dropped like a stone, and I tumbled after him, landing on my back so hard I lost my breath. Catlike, he landed on his feet and limped a circle around me.

“Camille,” Imogen called.

I didn’t dare respond, not with the wild-eyed beast so close to my head. I lay there in the grass, in the same spot where Graeson had shared his secrets with me, and knew that if he did this, if he killed me, I would be the last to ever be fed those morsels of his soul. The death of an innocent,
my
death, would break the man who had teetered on the edge of the abyss. The wolf, though, seemed to have no such reservations.

I was prey, naughty prey who ran from him, prey who—Graeson once said—smelled like I belonged to him.

Having never specifically asked if the wolf was a separate entity or merely a facet of Graeson’s personality, I wasn’t counting on the man’s views to sway the beast.

Tense seconds passed while Graeson sniffed, first my hair and then across my soft belly. My gut knotted as his muzzle nudged my shirt up above my navel, and he breathed in the scent of my skin. The pelt on my arms delighted him, and he rubbed his face against my fur. Satisfied with that, he continued his inspection until his nose brushed the mangled flesh of my calf. He lapped at the warm blood spilling out, and a low whine surged in the back of his throat.

I didn’t breathe until his sharp teeth were out of biting range.

Head lowered, he sat on the ground beside me, as though pondering what he ought to do with me now that he’d caught me.

I hoped that decision involved not being eaten.

Seeming to come to some conclusion, he lowered his belly to the grass, rested his head on his front legs and simply stared at me.

With no place to go, I released the magic stinging my arms. It was half gone already, and holding on to it only made me weaker. I could steal a drop from Graeson if I had to shift again. His blood was more potent than Imogen’s, and I needed every advantage if he came at me with teeth bared.

An eternity later, my eyelids began to flutter. Too much magic spent, too much blood lost.

The solemn eyes of a wolf locked with mine, and then there was darkness.

M
y bladder woke me
. More to the point, the leaden wolf’s head pressing down on the swollen organ woke me. I came awake to find the promise of midday had burned off to twilight. The radiating pain in my calf slammed into me a second later, and a gasp punched past my lips.

I had a choice to make. Risk the wolf’s wrath and find a toilet, or lay there and let nature take its course. I made up my mind not to die in wet jeans, and the rest went easier from there.

Palms braced on the ground, I levered myself up into a sitting position. Graeson eyed me and slid his head lower, until his chin rested on my thigh.

“Oh thank God.” A voice drifted down to me. “You’re alive.”

“For now.” I tested my injured leg, and stars exploded behind my eyes. “Let’s see how long it lasts.”

“Your family is nearby.” Imogen peered over the platform’s edge. “Cord wouldn’t let them anywhere near you.”

A flutter of panic that they might be close enough for him to take notice winged through me. “I’m going home.”

“Are you sure that’s smart?” Her tone screamed I was suicidal. “You’re injured, and he’s…”

“I don’t have much choice. I’m not staying out here forever, and he seems calm enough now.” My fingers curled into my palms, the urge to stroke his fur and find some shred of Graeson lingering in his eyes overwhelming. “Tell my family to stay with Meemaw tonight.”

Rude as it was to presume she had room for guests, I would use Dell as leverage mercilessly. I had brought her little girl home, and Meemaw would grant me this favor in kind. None of the wargs would want to see Graeson harmed on my account, and the good ones wouldn’t want him to wake from his fugue with my blood on his teeth.

“Okay.” She bobbed her head. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait for Bessemer?”

“No.” A snarl laced my voice and perked Graeson’s ears. I’d had about all I could take of the alpha’s interference. “I’m good.”

That Bessemer hadn’t put in an appearance all these hours later made it clear to me that his hopes aligned with Imogen’s. He wanted me gone, and he wanted his beta cowed. Two birds, one stone.

I planted my boots and tested my weight on them. The wolf sat up to see what all the fuss was about, but seemed more curious than anything. Pushing to my feet in slow motion, I gave him plenty of time to protest. He sat there until I managed to stand, and when I wobbled, he darted next to me. I leaned on him with a grimace, afraid I’d draw back a bloody nub, but the madness that had seized him seemed to have abated now that he had a captive audience of one.

I waved at Imogen, hoping it wasn’t a true farewell, and found her eyes as round as saucers.

Graeson hadn’t killed or maimed me…much. Clearly that shocked her.

That made two of us.

Together the wolf and I picked our way back to the trailers. The homestead was as we’d left it. The driver-side doors on Isaac’s truck still stood open, and a basket of laundry had exploded over the ground. Aunt Dot must have dropped it when we peeled into the clearing.

I grabbed the plastic bag Mai had smuggled from Edelweiss, shut the doors and locked the truck. My leg wasn’t up to gathering the clothes. Those would have to wait until tomorrow.

At my home, three tiny speckled eggs nestled inside a handful of grass on the highest step. A sweeping sense of déjà vu rocked me back on my heels. They were partridge eggs. I recognized them, because Lori and I had found a nest in the grass one summer while on vacation. Dad had given us a book to help us identify the species, which I did after Lori had given up on skimming. As a treat, he took two of the delicate eggs, thanked the nest for providing for us, and boiled them to go with our dinner.

This was the third item to show up on my steps that directly linked to me, to my family, to my past and my memories.

Cold rage ignited in my gut. There was only one reasonable explanation for it, and it made me sick. Bessemer had sifted through Graeson’s memories. The alpha knew secrets I had only ever told Graeson. But what if a side effect of joining the bond was leaving mental residue behind? I had never told Graeson about the eggs or the scrunchie or the shampoo, but had Bessemer gleaned those from the bond some other way? And what about the rabbit? Had he known Lori and I kept one as a pet? Or had Aisha truly used it as a lure?

Half afraid that if I stopped now I might not get moving again, I stepped over the nest and into my home. No, I realized. That wasn’t entirely true. I was just afraid I might spin on my heel and hunt down the alpha to bend his ear for a while, something neither Graeson nor I were fit to do at the moment. Grilling the alpha would have to wait, preferably for when I could stand with the beta at my back.

The wolf followed me without complaint, which I took as a good sign. I dropped the bag on the kitchenette table and limped into the bathroom, where my attempt to shut out the wolf for privacy was met with a rolling bass rumble of threat.

Heaving a sigh, I left the door open and handled business. While I was sitting, I untied my boots and kicked them into the corner. My pants were already halfway off, so I peeled those down my legs gingerly. This interested Graeson enough that he entered the bathroom with me, cramping the small room with his size while he inspected my leg. When he retreated, I tried to shut the door so I could strip for a shower. He was having none of it, hackles rising when I cut off his eye contact with me.

Defeated, I pulled my shirt over my head and started the shower. He allowed this and flopped down in the doorway, head on paws. A bra and panties were all that preserved my modesty as I stepped into the tiny glass enclosure. The bloodstained ensemble reminded me of Graeson’s earlier bikini comment, and I blushed. I got the distinct feeling he wasn’t home, but I wasn’t taking any chances. Wargs were blasé about nudity, but I wasn’t that kind of shifter.

The heat from the water relaxed my tense muscles and washed away the blood caking my leg. It lubricated my inhibitions too. Soggy and tired, I wanted to feel clean and safe again. Graeson’s dozing posture made stepping out of my underwear that much easier. My bra landed in the basin with a
splat
, and my panties followed. While I was bent over, I braced myself and inspected my calf. The cocktail of warg blood had done me good. The raw edges were knitting together much faster than they would have otherwise.

Not until my teeth began chattering did I realize I had used up all the hot water. Packed into the tight stall, I dried off then made the short grab for gauze from my medicine cabinet. The one good thing about the size of my bathroom was pretty much everything was within reach of everything else.

After slathering my leg with antibiotic ointment and binding it in gauze, I wriggled into pajamas, skirted the wolf and hobbled into the kitchen in search of food. The uncertain temperament of my houseguest meant I couldn’t afford not to eat. I had to replenish what the shifts had cost me in case I had to sprout claws in order to defend myself against the guilty-looking wolf drifting shadowlike in my wake.

“I have a frozen pizza, some of those microwave pocket things and an unmarked container, contents unknown,” I told the wolf, wishing I could turn back time and ask Isaac for steaks or roasts or whole chickens instead of a few staples. “Let’s try the fridge.”

A carton of eggs, an unopened pack of bacon and a container holding biscuits I knew must be homemade because of their size and shape.

“You sneak.” I glanced over the door at him. “You left groceries at my house.”

The wolf flicked his ears.

“I can do breakfast. Nothing fancy,” I amended before he got excited, “but it’ll get the job done.”

First I cracked open a bottle of ibuprofen and tossed back a handful. I washed them down with the half glass of remaining orange juice then set about hard scrambling eggs and microwaving bacon.

Graeson sat there watching the whole production. The man might have judged my dry eggs or slightly burnt bacon edges, but the wolf made whiney-growly sounds of encouragement.

A muffled ringing noise sent me dragging into the bathroom to dig out my cell. “Ellis.”

“Where are you?” Aunt Dot snapped. “They won’t let us leave. They said that Cord—”

“I’m at home, resting.” I cut her off before she got too worked up. “Graeson is with me.”

“He’s with you?” she shrilled. “They said he was trying to kill you.”

I flinched. “Um, about that…”

“Tell them to let us go,” Isaac boomed in the background. “We can’t just sit here while some crazy wolfman is stalking you.”

Had I expected the captives to be happy? No. Had I expected them to try and break free the second Meemaw turned her back on them? Honestly…yes. But I hoped the fact I had requested they stay put, which proved I was indeed still alive to make such requests, might sway them.

Apparently I hadn’t hoped hard enough.

Exhaustion plagued me. “Put Meemaw on the phone.”

“Camille,” she cackled. “I’d ask how you are, but if you’re giving your family hell, then I imagine you’re just fine. How’s Cord? Did you kill him?”

“No.” My heart thumped once, painfully. “He’s right here. We’re about to eat dinner.”

She clicked her tongue. “Hasn’t anyone ever warned you against feeding wild animals?”

“Dad did once.” I hadn’t meant to answer her rhetorical question, but my brain was mush and the words fell out of my mouth. “He wanted me to stop feeding wild rabbits lettuce from my taco bowls.”

That’s how I’d ended up taming Bunnicula, who Lori named after our favorite hand-me-down book at the time.

“You’ll never get rid of Cord now.” Another staticky burst of laughter. “You’ll tame him right proper.”

“Tame I can work with,” I assured her. “Tame means I can swat his nose with a rolled-up newspaper if he tries to eat me again.”

“If he was going to kill you, he would have by now.” She sounded confident. “Crazed as he was, I thought for sure…but here you are. He must truly love you.”

The word—the weight—of
love
made my skin simultaneously crawl and tingle. “Or he remembered that he’d stashed bacon in my fridge and needed me alive if he ever wanted it back.” If she knew him at all, then she understood how seriously he took his breakfast meats.

“You’ve both made your choices,” she chided. “There’s no use in playing coy with me.”

“Coy is one thing I’m not.” I glanced at the wolf and found his head cocked in a way that made me question how good warg hearing was exactly. “It’s just that he was much less furry when I decided to fight for him.”

Even now the thought of losing him, through his wolf or the selection, squeezed my heart until it ached.

“The wolf is part of him,” she said kindly. “The man will return. He must for them to remain in harmony. Loving you… It’s a good thing. It will help him find his way back.” Hostile murmurs erupted in the background, and she raised her voice. “So you’re rescinding your order for your family to stay here tonight? Do you think that’s wise?”

“It wasn’t an order.” I flushed. “It was a favor I didn’t have time to ask.”

Meemaw seemed tickled to be holding my feet to the flame. “As you say.” A contented sigh. “I’ll send them on then.”

“Is it safe for them to travel alone?”

“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate. “You made it safe for them.”

“Okay.” I rubbed my forehead. “I appreciate this.”

“Go eat, rest.” A rustling noise came on the line. “I’ll send Dell to you tomorrow if not the next day.”

“I’d like that.” Heat stung my nape. “I didn’t think to ask—is she doing better?”

“Yes. She’s a stout one.” Meemaw’s voice hummed with pride. “Here’s your cousin.”

A cold edge seeped into his tone. “We’re on our way.”

“Stay away from my house,” I warned him. “Go home and lock up. Graeson seems settled, but I’m not willing to bet your life on it.”

“I’ll keep my phone on me.” A pause. “If he sniffs you the wrong way and I’m there to see it, I’ll put him down.”

“That won’t be necessary.” I hoped. “Good night, Isaac.”

The call ended, and as though it had encased me in a bubble, once it burst, the scents of burning food rushed to me.

“Oh crap.” I popped open the microwave. The bacon was burnt down the middle. I checked the frying pan. The eggs were a harder scramble than I’d ever made, but they weren’t black, so I plated them. “Sorry about this, big guy. I’m usually not this scatterbrained.”

But usually I hadn’t been chased through the woods by a warg out for blood either.

I set his plate on the floor, and he inhaled his portion. I carried mine to the table and shoveled food in with one hand. The other crinkled the plastic bag Mai had stolen while searching for clues.

Clothes. Belt. The hard ridge in the bottom corner told me her badge was in the mix too. Socks. A bag or purse. Papers. All that was missing were her shoes, assuming she had been wearing any.

My fork scraped the dish. Empty. A quick check showed me the wolf had cleaned his plate too. His forlorn stare at its pitiful state almost made me laugh. I cleared the spot in front of me and ripped the tab to open the mailer. The smell hit me first, and I gagged on my meal.

Escaping the booth, I retrieved a pair of latex cleaning gloves from under the cabinet and snapped them on before bringing the bag to the sink. I dumped the contents in the dry basin and recognition clicked. This outfit matched the one Ayer had worn in the surveillance video. No wonder they reeked. She hadn’t changed clothes between the time the footage was recorded and when she showed up at Edelweiss two weeks later.

I patted down the grimy pants, liberating a handful of receipts from gas stations and fast food joints from the pockets. Those I put in a pile on the counter. Armpit stains and a few crusted drops of brownish-red fluid were all the shirt had to offer. The light jacket held more receipts, some cash and a brochure for a new indoor shooting range. I set those aside too. The belt surrendered no clues, and the socks had holes in them.

Before I got ahead of myself, I retrieved my phone and began snapping pictures. All this evidence had to be returned to Mai, and I wanted reference material before that happened. I spread the clothes out on the floor, shooing the wolf away before he contaminated the evidence, but he was not to be shooed.