Hour of the Lion (The Wild Hunt Legacy #1) (30 page)

was horrible. Blood pouring from his head, he didn‘t get up.

―Grandpa!‖ Jamie screamed.

He didn‘t move.

―Nooo,‖ Jamie moaned, her legs crumpling beneath her. She held her hand against her

burning cheek, choking on sobs. She tried to crawl to him, but the man grabbed her collar, shook

her like an animal.

Like an animal.

She closed her eyes, and there it was, the door, glowing an angry mean red. Calling her. She

yanked it open and stepped through...into wildness.

She was on her hands and feet—no, on her paws. The world looked different, and she

screamed in terror, only it came out a snarl. Tipping her head up, she saw the men, backing away

from her, and the scent of their fear made her want, need something. Her pants bound one leg

and she bit at the cloth and ripped it free. Snarling, she stalked forward and slashed at the one

who‘d hurt Grandpa Joe. She caught only his jeans, tearing them, but he jumped away from her

grandfather.

The tattooed one grabbed for his gun. Fear. She charged at him, trying to get the gun. He

screamed, jumping back. His shirt was in shreds, and blood started to pour from horrible slices

on his stomach and chest. His face and arm were all scratched. The men bumped into each other

as they ran out the door.

I bit that man? Clawed him? She hadn‘t even known she‘d moved. She‘d hurt him. I want to hurt him again. The fur on her back felt twitchy. Standing up. No, that was bad. Daddy. I need Daddy.

She padded over to Grandpa Joe and snuffled his face, but the smell of blood made her

insides feel funny, and she backed away. She wasn‘t supposed to enter a house. Not as a cat. She

needed to turn back to human.

But what if they came back?

The door was still open, and the wind swirled into the room. She took a step forward. In the

distance, the mountain called to her, cried her name as clearly as Daddy would. She sprang out

the door.

* * *

Alec walked out of the school, pissed off as any man could be. No bomb—which was a

good thing, really—but there‘d been no damned bomb. He‘d bent over desks, looked into dusty

storage rooms, and checked bathrooms where little boys obviously had no aim. Herne help him.

As the wind-driven snow lashed his skin, Alec breathed in the clean air and headed for his

car. The parents had picked up their children, but to his surprise, the principal and another

teacher got out of an SUV.

Alec rubbed his face, glanced around. More snow had fallen while he‘d been playing with

fake bombs. ―You still here?‖

―Hell yes. You think I‘d leave you in there alone?‖ Doug Banner humphed. In fact, Alec‘d

had to shove him out the door to keep him from helping. ―What‘d you find?‖

―No bomb.‖

The little gray-haired teacher woman patted his hand. Mrs. Henderson was a human, but one

so unflappable that everyone in town considered her their adopted grandmother. Jamie adored

her. ―Are you all right, dear?‖

―I‘m fine, Mrs. Henderson. Just annoyed.‖ He turned to Banner. ―If you have time, let‘s go

downtown and talk about who this bas—‖ he glanced guiltily at Mrs. Henderson and continued,

―—who this prankster might be.‖

―Good idea. I‘ve tried to come up with ideas,‖ the principal agreed. ―Thank you for waiting

with me, Hilda. Get yourself on home now and warm up.‖

Alec dug his phone out of his pocket and turned it on. He‘d never heard of a bomb being

triggered by a cell phone, but the way his luck was running, he hadn‘t wanted to serve as the

first. The log showed two missed calls from the station, both within the last few minutes. He got

the dispatcher. ―I‘m free, Bonnie, and I found no bomb. Did you need me?‖

―God yes, Alec, ‘bout time.‖ Bonnie‘s voice was shrill, and Alec‘s hand tightened on the

phone. ―There‘s trouble over at Calum‘s place. Joe Thorson‘s hurt, and—are you alone?‖

A Daonain problem then. He jerked his head at Banner to stay with Hilda and walked farther

away, knowing the wind and snow would muffle everything. ―Spit it out.‖

―Albert Baty was driving by the tavern and saw two men run out of your backyard, one all

bloody. They jumped in a van. And a panther ran out and down the street. Al said he didn‘t

recognize the cat, but the van followed it. He went upstairs to check things out and called here.‖

―And?‖ Fear made Alec‘s voice snap, ―Is Jamie all right? Joe? They were both there.‖

―Al only found Joe, and he‘s unconscious and bleeding bad.‖ Bonnie paused. ―Alec? The cat

was little—not full grown.‖

Calum floored the gas pedal, and the car screeched around a logging truck. The oncoming

car‘s horn blared as he whipped back into his lane.

Irma had been alive, a wretched lump handcuffed and lying in the corner of the bedroom.

Blood everywhere and discarded syringes. Tortured. Drugged.

She‘d opened her eyes when he touched her, staring as he‘d called for an ambulance. Then

had motioned him closer. ―He wants your people, child. And…‖ Her brows had drawn together.

―My head is all foggy. I think I told him about you. And Jamie.‖

Jamie. They were going after his child. The car skidded around a corner, tires squealing. No

one answered at home.

He‘d just passed the first houses in Cold Creek when his cell phone rang.

* * *

Vic staggered to her feet and rubbed her bruised butt as she scowled at the god-help-me

shortcut she‘d come down. Under all the snow, the slope had been steeper than she‘d realized.

Like a damn ski jump, and she‘d skied the last half on her ass.

Brushing her jeans off, she squinted into the blizzard to get her location. Not bad. The path

on the ridge led to the public park behind Thorson‘s Books. By abandoning the trail and sliding

straight down, she could circle around town and get her car without being seen.

Her chest squeezed at the thought of running into Calum or Alec. Maybe when she‘d put an

ocean between her and the men, she‘d not anticipate seeing them every moment.

Shaking her head, she pulled a cookie from the sack in her pocket. As she stuffed it into her

mouth, she tried not to remember the warmth of Helen‘s house. At least the sugar revved her up,

something she damned well needed, considering she‘d run out of coffee two days ago and other

food yesterday. She‘d better not meet anyone, or she was liable to bite their head off. Cranky

much?

So, she just needed to get to the car—damn thing better start—and head out. Her walk

quickened as she remembered the next town over had a Starbucks. Yes!

A noise caught her attention. Running footsteps. Sobbing?

With a huff of exasperation, Vic stepped behind a tree. Honestly, couldn‘t a person take a

quiet walk in a nice blizzard without being interrupted? She edged out far enough to stare up at

the ridge high above her. Someone was running up the trail from town. Through the trees and

snow she could see the flash of a girl‘s shape. Naked?

Vic choked on a laugh. Alec had mentioned how young shifters tended to pop back and forth

before they established some control. This little shifter‘d freeze her ass off if she didn‘t get into animal form. But why was she headed away from town?

A minute later, the smile froze on Vic‘s lips.

Jamie?

* * *

Crying and whimpering, Jamie staggered up the trail. Somehow she‘d gone back to being a

girl, but using two legs didn‘t work after having four, and she kept falling. Snot and tears ran

down her face. Daddy. Alec. Help. Please help me. She shivered, her feet burning with the cold, as she grabbed a tree. The rough bark scraped her palms as she pushed off, trying to run again.

She looked behind her and a whine broke from her. No no no. The men were gaining on her.

Two of them. She was breathing too hard to scream.

A black van had chased her through town, and she‘d run and run and finally come to the

park. Thinking the van couldn‘t go up the trail, she‘d gone into the forest, but two men got out

and followed her. One a blond. And the man with the pitted cheeks whose jeans she‘d clawed.

Blood had turned his pant leg dark red, and he was so mad, his face was scary-ugly.

They were so close. She staggered forward. Too slow. No choice, I have no choice. Have to

go faster. She closed her eyes, forced herself to open the door. Tingling. Trawsfur. Dizzy. She shook her head, tripping on her feet. Paws.

―Jesus, we have her! Shoot, dammit!‖

Something stung her shoulder like a wasp, and she snarled, the sound horrible. She sprang

forward up the trail. Almost to the top. She could… The trees spun in a circle around her. Her

legs—too many legs—tangled, and she crashed into the ground. She tried to stand, scrambling

uselessly with her paws, but her head felt like a boulder.

With blurry eyes, she saw a pair of boots walk up to her. When the man kicked her hard, she

could only snarl helplessly.

Daddy—I want my Daddy…

* * *

They shot Jamie! Climbing frantically, Vic was only halfway back up the steep slope. She

stopped to listen, cursing silently. The trail that Jamie was on curved out of sight. Thank God the

two men following Jamie hadn‘t gotten close enough to the cliff‘s edge to spot her, but they‘d

surely hear her scrambling up to them.

Vic slowed, moving more quietly, every muscle screaming to hurry. Okay, okay. Jamie‟s

down, but she isn‟t dead. There‟s time. She pushed up to the next step. Her foot slipped. What a cluster-fuck. Stay the fuck calm, Sergeant.

Where the hell were all those shifter townspeople? What were they thinking, leaving Jamie

alone? Where the hell was the kid‘s backup?

As the wind died for a moment, she heard them.

―Swane said, on these beasts, the tranq wears off in ten minutes or so. Way before we can

get it down and into the cage.‖

―Then shoot her again when she wakes up, dumbass. Fuck, she‘s heavy.‖

―That was the last dart, dirtbag. You got rope?‖

―Hell no.‖

―Jesus. The guy wants it alive.‖

―Fuck that, I‘m not going to let that hellcat claw me again. Bash its head in. The daddy don‘t

need to know that his kid‘s dead—he‘ll still do fuck-all to get her back.‖

Silence. ―Yeah, that‘ll work. I‘ll find a fuckin‘ rock.‖ Footsteps. ―You s‘pose they change to

people when they die?‖

Vic looked up at the distance remaining to the top. It was too far. Too steep. I can‟t make it

in time. She closed her eyes in despair.

And there, in the back of her mind, the little door glowed.

* * *

The patrol car bounced as Alec drove it up and over the curb, across the snow-covered park,

following the new boot marks in the snow that led directly into the forest. He braked to a

skidding stop at the tree line and jumped out. As he ripped his clothes off, he heard a heavy

engine start up—and a black van raced away down the street.

He hesitated. One would escape. But he could smell more here. And Jamie. Fear. Ahead in

the mountains.

Calum‘s car roared up behind him as Alec shifted. He didn‘t wait. Fresh blood made garish

red marks on the white snow. With a low growl, he sprang forward.

Not a minute later, Calum shouldered past him. As they tore up the trail, from the mountain

above them came the high shriek of a female cougar.

* * *

The door almost begged for her to open it. Vic hesitated, and then stripped, fear bitter in her

mouth. If this doesn‟t work… In her mind, she pulled the door open and mentally stepped into the blinding glow.

Fuuuuck! She dropped forward onto her hands and knees...onto her paws. Those were her

golden-furred paws. She shook her head, unsettled by how close her face was to the ground. The

brightness of the world blinded her, the noises sounded too loud, and everything smelled. Too

much.

―Here‘s a rock, but I got to dig it out,‖ came one man‘s voice from the ridge. ―The bastard‘s

frozen into the dirt.‖ Thumping noises.

Her muzzle rose, and her top lip curled in a snarl she barely managed to suppress. Fury

buzzed in a red cloud around her, tightening her muscles. Her first spring took her over ten feet

upward, another and another, her paws silent in the snow.

Suddenly, she reached the top and scrambling over it.

―Holy shit!‖ A man on the trail jumped back, and she ignored him. The other stood over a

small panther with a rock in his big fist. Vic screamed and launched herself across the distance.

She hit him in the chest and knocked him over, landing on top of him. Her front claws ripped out

his throat, cutting off his yell. A fountain of blood spurted up.

The remaining man tore down the path. Vic sprang after him, then halted, although

everything in her wanted his flesh under her claws. With a growl of frustration, she paced back

to guard the panther. Her little Jamie.

The sounds of the man‘s flight diminished, then he yelled, ―No, no!‖ Horrible snarling

raised the fur on Vic‘s spine, and the yelling changed to a scream and abruptly stopped.

Silence. She nuzzled the little cat, licked an ear. Jamie?

A second later, two huge mountain lions appeared, side-by-side, running full out. Her anger

was unabated, and the scent of blood heavy in the air. Vic snarled at them, showing her fangs.

She felt her fur rise. Her front paw lifted, claws unsheathed.

Both cats snarled back, but they stopped.

Fuck, what was she doing? These were shifters, here for Jamie. Her brain couldn‘t convince