Skin Heat (35 page)

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Authors: Ava Gray

BOOK: Skin Heat
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Zeke paced him as he drew closer to the gully where the other two prepared to make their stand. When he broke from the trees and started sliding down, Zeke launched himself, knowing he’d only have one shot. He sank his teeth into the arm holding the rifle and tasted his meat and bone. Horror surged through him, but the coyote part of him didn’t mind at all. He dodged the kick and clamped his jaws around the rifle and towed it away as fast as he could. If the man hadn’t been injured, it wouldn’t have worked. As it was, the weapon went banging away down the ridge, lost in the dark. Zeke growled and lunged, but this time the kick landed, solid in the ribs. His body went flying, and he landed hard, dazed.
The coyote whined and fought him. It wasn’t ready to die here. Its instincts surged harder than spiritual kinship. He wrestled, but he didn’t want to hurt the brother who had already helped so much. His control slipped, and the animal floundered, trying to get to its feet. Wanting to run. But the pain overwhelmed it; that kick had certainly broken bones.
The killer closed. If he died in this coyote body, what did that mean? Would that be it? Somehow he didn’t mind, regardless. She was worth everything. Worth dying for. It might even be the best thing he’d ever done. He bared his teeth and snarled.
But Neva surged into view in the dark, scrambling up over loose dirt and rocks. She had a stick in one hand she was using as support. The bastard wheeled away and went after her.
His voice sent a chill through Zeke, raising his hackles. “You’re gonna pay. I’m gonna make you hurt for such a long time. Oh, I’ve got a different playroom for you, and you won’t get out this time.”
“Travis,” she choked out. “Oh my God, you?
Why?

“That piece of shit’s dead. I should’ve known if I wanted something done right I’d have to do it myself.”
Neva seemed frozen on the side of the gully. “Where’s Julie? What did you do to her?”
“Don’t,” he roared. “This is your fault. All of it. If you’d just stopped to help. If you’d just
died
—”
“Nobody’s dying tonight but you.” She lifted the stick and its broken end looked like a spear.
Travis lunged at her and she slammed her weapon home, using her deceptive strength and his momentum to pierce his wound. The smell of blood grew stronger as she twisted, her expression fierce. She was a lioness defending her cub, a mother bear roaring in claim of her territory—all things feral and terrible and heartbreakingly beautiful, all the wild places he loved. The coyote stopped thrashing as it saw his mate protecting them.
The man who had killed so many gazed down at the wood jutting from his belly, and his hands curled around it as if he would pull it out and keep fighting. Instead, he fell forward; he bounced down the loose dirt slope.
Luke Harper stared down at the corpse beside him and then up at his sister. “I wish I could’ve done it. I wanted to. But thank you.”
Zeke wished he could tell Neva how proud he was, but he felt odd. Disconnected. The coyote wasn’t fighting him anymore, but he had the sense his own body was very cold. And so far away. A whine slid free of the animal’s throat, but it couldn’t keep him. He floated up, but there was no connection to bring him back, and he went sailing on the wind, like a dandelion ghost of summers lost.
The pain was
excruciating. But it was satisfying, too. Travis Delaney, who had been Delroy Carson, smiled. Because he’d won the game after all. Not the old man. He’d denied the bastard his final revenge. Drinking that bottle of Jack Daniels had been the best idea he had ever had. It had slowed him down. Dulled his wits. He’d lost his way, or maybe it was more accurate to say he found it again, near the end.
He had never been strong enough to stop it or turn aside. Never. He had been fooling himself with thoughts of a normal life. Too long ago, he had been broken, no matter how hard he tried to pretend. What he’d wanted could never have been. The voices never would’ve stopped. Ever. They were only getting stronger—and he had enough of himself left to realize there was no good ending. Since the first time the old man had locked him in the dark room, he’d never had a chance. But in the final hours, he had sabotaged himself, just enough.
And so he had been right. He would not finish his days in a gloomy cell. It was a cleaner, wilder death, and one more worthy than he deserved. The pain faded.
Darkness gathered. Cold crept in. Though his eyes were open, he could see nothing anymore. There was only silence. And it was good.
 
Neva shook in
reaction. The baying and barking of hounds said help wasn’t too far off, but she’d done it. Saved them. She stumbled down and bent to wrap her arms around her brother. He might be older by ten minutes, but she felt incredibly protective toward him.
“He shot you while we were running. How bad is it?”
“Flesh wound.” Like Luke would admit anything else. “I need to get warm, eat a decent meal, bathe, and sleep in a real bed. Oh, and have someone set this ankle.” Still no complaints—that had never been his way.
She was always the one who fought with their parents if she didn’t get what she wanted. Not him. They were going to be so happy to see him.
Up the hill, the coyote struggled to its feet. It was obviously hurt, but it limped off into the dark. Neva felt like she should call out a thank-you, but—the animal paused. Whimpered at her. It staggered down a few feet and then back up.
“I’m not leaving him,” she told it.
It responded with a soft, urgent yelp. This time, it stumbled all the way to her and lay down, crawling on its belly. If she wasn’t mistaken, she’d call this begging. She cut a look at Luke.
“The rescuers will be here soon,” he said. “Listen. They’re getting closer. I’ll send them after you. Maybe you should go see what it wants. It did help us.”
Zeke.
It had to be. Without knowing she’d made a decision—taking a leap that Ben Reed would call ridiculous—she pushed to her feet and nodded at the coyote. “Show me. And this better not be a dead squirrel.”
She snagged another stick to help her push her way up. The coyote had almost as much trouble as she did with its wounds; it had taken a couple of brutal kicks. Poor thing. Up top, it set a gentle pace, leading her through the maze of trees. After all they’d been through, she couldn’t believe she’d left her brother alone in the dark. If anything happened to him, she’d never forgive herself. And yet she
knew
. It was beyond explanation.
It seemed as if they walked for miles, but eventually she saw what it was desperate to show her: a prone form lying, pale as death in the moonlight. She broke into a run, hoping it wasn’t him.
Not Zeke. Please, no.
But it was.
Neva gathered him into her arms. His skin was cold, lips already turning blue. If he had a pulse, it was too sluggish for her to tell.
CPR.
She’d taken the class, and she was certified. Pushing down her anguish, she laid him flat and went to work, breath and compression.
Nothing. The mirror test would tell her if he had no breath at all, but she didn’t have any supplies out here. The coyote prowled in worried, limping circles, whimpering.
“I know,” she whispered. “I know. You were him. Somehow. And he was you. But he’s not anymore. He’s lost and he can’t find his way home.”
Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Once more she gathered him in her arms, and instead of CPR, she pressed her lips to his. Heat. Not enough. Neva touched her brow to his.
Come back to me. Come back. We’re not finished yet. We’re not. Please don’t give everything for me. Not when the last time we spoke, I yelled at you and called you a coward. Don’t let those be the last words you ever hear from me.
She said it aloud, hoping it would help. Repeated it over and over again.
“Come back to me. I love you.”
Just when her heart broke, just when her tears froze, and she stopped believing in miracles . . . he did. His lashes flickered, and then rose, revealing dreamy twilight eyes, drenched in moonlight. He was still too pale and too cold, but it meant everything that he was alive.
“Oh, Zeke,” she whispered, as she had done at the farm, what seemed so long ago now. “What did you do?”
He remembered. “Not what did I do. What
can
I do?”
“I don’t understand.” She spoke the line mostly to give him the opening she sensed he wanted.
“Drive a coyote better than my old truck.”
Zeke raised up on one elbow and reached out a hand. The animal nuzzled his fingers, and then limped away into the dark. Probably it heard the sounds of the rescue party. Luke would’ve sent them along.
“You ready to go? I think the cavalry’s here.”
“’Bout fucking time,” he said.
She rode in the ambulance with him and found her parents waiting at the hospital. Neva had never been hugged so tightly in her life. But she understood when they followed the doctors—and Luke. He’d been through so much; he needed the attention more, and she wanted to be with Zeke.
Later, she used her position as a Harper shamelessly to get into Zeke’s room after visiting hours. They’d put him in with Agent Hebert, who had come out of surgery just before they arrived. The rescue party had found him just in time. Now there were crews in the woods, picking up the pieces, but nobody died out there except for Travis Delaney. Under the circumstances, it was a Christmas miracle.
Not surprisingly, Zeke wanted to check himself out.
“Am fine,” he kept muttering. “Nothing wrong with me.”
She folded her arms and gave him her mother’s best frosty glare. “You were unconscious in the woods for God knows how long.”
“Not for medical reasons.”
“Regardless, that mandates an overnight hospital stay.”
“You two gonna fuss all night?” Surely that drawl hadn’t come from Agent Hebert. Groggy from the anesthesia, sure, but damn. He sounded like a different man.
She blushed over bothering him. “No. I’m sorry. We’ll keep it down.”
Neva settled herself on the bed beside Zeke and curled into his side. The nurses could suck it if they didn’t approve. She was a Harper, and that meant in this town, she could do whatever the hell she wanted.
But he clutched her hand, worry written in his face. “The kittens?”
“They’re fine. My mom left them with the housekeeper. You wouldn’t believe how much she loves them. She named them Larry, Curly, and Mo.”
His lips quirked in a tired smile. “Which one’s Mo?”
“The little girl. It’s short for Maureen.”
“Cute.” Zeke relaxed then and drew her fully into his arms.
Neva knew they had some talking to do yet, but there was time. Right now, she needed sleep. Everything else would keep.
In the morning, hospital staff woke her at an ungodly hour to check the two patients. Just as well. She’d visit Luke while they did undignified things to Zeke. His blue eyes promised retribution as she made her escape.
Neva ran into her mother in the hallway. Lillian swept her into a tight hug, choking off tears. “I can’t believe it. You found him. I sat with him all night.”
“That’s not quite how it happened.”
Lillian went on, obviously not listening, “When you went missing, I prayed like I never have in my life. God, darling, I was so frightened. I think I promised to build this hospital a new wing if you came home to me. And you’re both
here
.”
Her father came down the hall toward her, looking tired but happy. The fluorescent lighting brought out the new lines in his face. He wrapped his arms around both of them, seemingly unable to speak for long moments. It took him three tries.
“I thought I’d lost both of you. God knows I put the mill before you kids more than once. I was always worried about profit and loss. But I promise in whatever time I’ve got left, that’s going to change.”
“I’m glad,” she whispered, tears clotting her throat.
Her parents didn’t even look like the esteemed Harpers right now. They were wrinkled and disheveled from a night spent in the hospital. Neva imagined she didn’t look much better. She didn’t care at all.
“The doctors say Luke will be fine . . . in time.” Lillian’s voice broke, and she turned her face away.
But Neva knew how her mother felt; she’d given her son up for dead, along with everyone else. Inadequacy and guilt stung her, too. If she’d tried harder, fought harder, they might have found him much sooner. But Sheriff Raleigh had been doing everything he could.
“Let’s get some breakfast,” her father suggested. “The nurses are attending to your brother right now.”
Which would explain why they weren’t in the room. It was just that time of the day, she supposed. She should have expected the nurses would be attending to Luke, too, now. Neva nodded and followed them down to the cafeteria. But her heart was heavy; she still didn’t know what had become of Julie.

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