Second Nature (62 page)

As far as Jorie could tell, even the hunter's lookout up ahead was empty. It was well-hidden in the dense foliage of a tree, and Jorie knew it was there only because she had spent a few afternoons writing up in the silence of the tree.

Up in the tree...
Her dream about climbing the tree with Will came back to her. She raced through a shrub. Twigs snapped back and scratched her, and she heard Griffin groan as a branch hit her injured arm.
Injured arm...
In her mind's eye, she saw the three-legged Will scramble up the tree.

"Griffin!" she shouted and changed her course. "Follow me!" Without taking the time to question her spontaneous idea, she dashed through the undergrowth and raced over to the hunter's lookout. She leaped for one of the rungs of the hidden ladder.

Slipping on damp leaves, she missed.

Her chin collided with the rung. Her teeth sharply clacked together. She bit her tongue, and the coppery taste of blood exploded in her mouth.

Only at the very last moment did she manage to grab the rung below, stopping her fall.

No time to stop and lick her wounds. Jorie scrambled up the ladder.

The rungs creaked as Griffin pulled herself up behind her, but Jorie didn't look back to see how Griffin was doing or if their pursuer was close enough to see them. For once in her life, she would just trust the images from her dream.

Griffin's big body pressed against hers in the close confines of the hunter's lookout. Warm breath brushed her cheek as Griffin whispered, "This is crazy. These boards won't carry my weight for very long."

"Trust me; they will," Jorie whispered back. In her dream, Will, her three-legged companion, had been safe on the tree next to her, in no danger of falling. She hoped she hadn't made a mistake in trusting her instincts and that Griffin was safe on the lookout too — at least for the moment.

Somewhere nearby, a branch snapped. Their pursuer was breaking through the shrubs directly under them.

Jorie didn't breathe. The trembling of her body was the only movement. She pressed her cheek against the rough wood of the boards that made up the hunter's lookout and peeked through one of the cracks.

A tall man came barreling through the shrubs, angrily shoving away twigs with one arm while the other hand was holding on to something.

Shit. He's still in his human form, which means he still has the gun.

He was directly below them now.

Jorie's heart hammered against her chest so loudly that she feared he would hear it.

Griffin's body tensed behind her.

Silently, Jorie started to pray, hoping that his hunting fever would cause him to mindlessly continue his mad dash through the forest until he realized that he had lost their trail.

Please, please, please, don't let him look up! And please let him be too distracted by his hunting fever to smell us.
If the other Wrasa was as heavy as Griffin, he normally didn't hunt on trees or hunt prey that hid on trees, so he had no reason to look up.

Jorie caught a glimpse of white-blond hair and cheeks that were reddened with exertion or anger; then he was already past the lookout. He continued running at full speed until the sounds of his big body breaking branches as he passed by finally disappeared in the distance.

"Jesus," Jorie said, still panting. "Who the hell was that, and where did he suddenly come from?"

"That," Griffin said with a grim expression, "was Cedric Jennings, my commanding officer."

"Did he miss the memo about the council giving us forty-eight hours? They aren't up yet." Shooting at Griffin didn't seem like a plan that the council, including Griffin's sister, had sanctioned. Cedric Jennings had clearly shot to kill or at least to put Griffin out of commission. If Griffin hadn't changed her position and ducked down just when he squeezed the trigger, the bullet would have hit her in the chest, not just her upper arm.

"I don't think he cares," Griffin said. "And I don't think he's acting on council orders."

"You don't seem very surprised," Jorie noticed.

"I didn't expect him to fly all the way to Michigan to shoot me, but I could tell that Jennings was more determined to wrap up this mission and kill you than he usually is," Griffin answered.

A shiver raced down Jorie's spine as she thought about the expression on Jennings's face. Never had she seen such a fierce determination to kill. She tugged urgently on Griffin's sleeve. "Come on. Let's move on before he realizes we tricked him and comes back."

Despite Jorie's tugging and pulling, Griffin didn't move an inch. "No. If we run, we're in no better situation than before. We'll be on the run, and, like I said before, running from a predator is a bad idea. We might even run straight into some other saru. Syak hunt in packs, so there might be other saru nearby. It's better if I use the reprieve that hiding on the hunter's lookout gave us to shift."

"You're not planning on going after Jennings in your liger form, are you?" The answer was written in Griffin's determined eyes. "Griffin, that's stupid. He'll just shoot you." An image of Griffin lying dead on the forest floor flashed through her mind. She closed her eyes to ward off the pain the image brought. "We should try to run or just wait here. Maybe Brian and Nella realized what's going on and are already searching for us. We could try to reach them."

Griffin stood despite the protests, carefully balancing her weight on the creaking boards of the hunter's lookout. "We can't count on that. Jennings used a silencer, and I'm sure my parents were so focused on each other that they didn't watch us leave. By the time they realize that my car is still in the driveway, it might be too late, so I don't have much of a choice."

"You're already wounded," Jorie said. The sight of the blood on Griffin's sleeve made her queasy.

Griffin's gaze followed hers. "Just a graze," she said with a dismissive shrug. The movement pulled at the edges of the wound, and she grimaced. "Though I admit that it hurts like hell now that the shock has worn off. I don't know how you managed to keep me from shifting."

Jorie hadn't even thought about it, but she had known that she couldn't allow Griffin to stand still as a living target while she shifted. She didn't want her to make herself a target now either. "If you get down from the lookout, he'll find you. He'll shoot you!" Desperation gripped Jorie.

"We can't stay here," Griffin said. "Once he calms down and uses his nose instead of just running blindly, he'll realize we're no longer ahead of him. We have to act before he realizes we tricked him. Maybe there are already other saru catching up with him. If we give him time, Jennings will convince them that the council gave the order to kill us, and then we'll have a whole pack on our heels. I have to stop him before that happens."

She was right. Time was running out. They couldn't afford to outwait Cedric Jennings. Still, every instinct screamed at her not to let Griffin go.

"Stay here," Griffin said. "Keep quiet until you hear me coming back." She prepared to climb down the ladder.

Another wave of panic hit Jorie. She grabbed her uninjured arm and held her back. "No," she said sharply. "He'll shoot you."

"He'll shoot both of us if he finds us here," Griffin said. She lifted her hand to touch Jorie's face, then froze. Her head tilted as she listened to something that Jorie couldn't hear. "He's coming back." Griffin started for the ladder again, then stopped and stared at Jorie.

Jorie stared back. "What?" she asked.

A blood-chilling howl echoed through the forest. Cedric Jennings was barreling down the path. The sounds sounded barely human as if Jennings was close to shifting in his anger and frustration.

"When I tell you to, jump down the ladder and run," Griffin said what Jorie had least expected her to say.

"Run?" Jorie asked. With her trembling legs, she wasn't even sure she could walk, much less run at this point. "You taught me never to run from a predator."

Griffin's glance darted toward Jennings, who was coming closer. "We'll make an exception, just this once," she said. "Do you trust me?"

Jorie knew she wasn't just talking about a little bit of trust, a wary truce, or an alliance of convenience. Griffin was asking her to go all in, to trust her with her life. Her throat tightened, and she swallowed. "Yes," she said.

"Then run! Now!"

*  *  *

Jorie's glance darted left and right, trying to make out Jennings through the leaves that hid the hunter's lookout.

Leaves rustled. Branches trembled. He had reached their hiding place now. White-blond hair peeked through the greenery, indicating that he was still in his human form.

With one last glance back at Griffin, Jorie slid down the ladder. Her foot slipped on damp moss, but then she was off, running as fast as she could.

She raced through the forest without looking back. If a bullet was about to hit her from behind, she didn't want to know. No shots rang out, though. Her own strained breathing drowned out most other sounds.

Piles of leaves made her stumble, and Jorie veered to the right, following a small path through the forest. When she rounded a bend in the path, she risked a quick glance back.

Nothing.

There was no one behind her, neither Jennings nor Griffin, but Jorie heard howls of pain and anger echo through the forest.

Shit, shit, shit! Is he attacking Griffin? Or is he shifting?

A howl answered that question. No human vocal cords could produce such a bloodcurdling sound.

Jorie picked up her speed. She leaped over a few branches that had fallen onto the path. Her feet slipped out from under her, but she found her balance again and continued to run.

A second, closer-sounding howl sent shivers through her. She imagined him only yards behind her, getting ready to leap. Even though she knew it was slowing her down, she couldn't stop herself from looking over her shoulder again.

As she had imagined, it was no longer the white-blond man with the gun who was chasing her. Instead, a large wolf bounded down the path, teeth flashing as he quickly caught up with her. Fire burned in his blue eyes.

It's him!

She had seen this wolf before, had run from him a hundred times. Cedric Jennings was one of the predators from her nightmares.

Outrunning him or fighting him was out of the question. She had never managed it in her dreams either. If she wanted to survive this, she had to get help.

Griffin!

Getting help from Griffin was her only chance.
If she's really willing to help you.
In her dream, the liger had just stood and watched.

Doubts slowed her steps for a few moments, then Jorie gave a yell of fear and determination.
Trust your instincts. Trust Griffin.

Jorie left the path. She skidded down a slope.

Branches and twigs hit her left and right, but she hardly felt the pain. She rounded a group of trees, circling back in the direction of the lookout, where she hoped Griffin was.

Eager yipping and panting followed her.

The wolf was catching up quickly. He had almost reached her now.

Jorie tried to run faster but couldn't. Her legs trembled. She stumbled. The rough bark of a tree scratched over her skin.

A booming "aaooom" sounded from somewhere to her left, where the lookout lay, and was quickly coming closer. With another roar, a second predator leaped through the shrubs.

Jorie wasn't surprised. She had seen this scene a hundred times in her dreams. This time, she didn't freeze as the second predator appeared. She swallowed her nauseating fear and ran directly toward it.

Whiskey-colored eyes drilled into her, and the large cat roared again.

Shivers raced along Jorie's skin.

Does she recognize me?
Jorie wasn't sure, but with the wolf quickly catching up to her, slowing down was not an option. She hoped that she wouldn't trigger Griffin's hunting instinct and get caught between two dangerous predators.

The liger crouched — and then jumped, leaping through the air directly at Jorie.

"Shit!"

Too late to stop and flee.

Jorie threw herself down. Pebbles and twigs dug into her hands as she flattened herself against the rough forest ground.

The air moved above her.

She covered her head with her hands, preparing for the collision with the 400-pound liger.

It never came.

Growling and hissing made her open her eyes again.

The liger wasn't attacking her. Griffin was instead trying to get a good grip on the wolf's neck, but Jennings wasn't making it easy.

With agile leaps, he jumped out of the way of Griffin's canines and the powerful front paws. He circled her and leaped on her back. His sharp fangs ripped through the cat's muscular shoulder.

Warm blood hit Jorie's face.
Griffin's blood. He's killing her!

Fear and anger seethed through Jorie.
No!
Jorie scrambled up from the ground and out of the way of the fighting predators.

The gun!

If she wanted to help Griffin, she needed to find the gun that Jennings had dropped when the sight of her fleeing had triggered his hunting instinct and he had lost control over the urge to shift. It was her only chance.

Jorie ran.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the wolf disengage from Griffin. He leaped over a fallen tree and dashed after Jorie.

Oh, God, no!

Panic gripped Jorie. Her heart pounded in her ears when she tried to scramble up the nearest tree. Her fingers slipped off the mossy bark, and she threw a desperate glance back.

A powerful swipe of the liger's paw slammed the wolf to the ground.

He leaped back up, growling. Blood dripped from his flank, but it just made him angrier.

Jorie didn't stop to watch. The sounds of the fight followed her as she raced toward the path. Shreds of destroyed clothes showed her the place where Jennings had shifted into his wolf form.

She frantically rummaged through the leaves and tattered clothes. A rock sliced into her skin, but she paid no attention.