Shay's Shifters [Mountain Men of Montana 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (3 page)

What the hell happened?

She needed to know, wanted to know, but couldn’t bring herself to move. Moving meant pain, and she’d had enough of that. Instead of thinking, she concentrated on her breathing, pulling in air through her nose then letting it out her mouth. And still the snow fell.

She couldn’t have said how long she sat in the same position, staring straight ahead, making no movement aside from the rise and fall of her chest. As though viewing the world through binoculars from a faraway place, she watched as the dusting of snow on her hood grew higher. Thought finally broke through the haze, forcing her back into the world around her.

What was that thing I saw? Is it still here?

She dragged in a deep breath, prepared herself for the pain, then turned her head. Agony struck her, singeing up from the middle of her forehead to travel over her head and down her neck.

Look.

She listened to the inner voice compelling her to ignore everything, every pain, every ache to concentrate on what she could see. Yet she saw only the beauty of the snowbound forest.

Look the other way.

Again, she pushed away the torment pounding in her head and turned to scan the other side. And again, she saw nothing but the woods.

Maybe I scared it away.

She was almost certain she hadn’t hit it. Too bad she couldn’t say the same thing about the tree. From the way the hood of the vehicle was bent upward toward the windshield she assumed it was useless to try to start the car, but she did it anyway. As she’d expected, the car was dead.

Groaning, she pulled the lever and opened the door. If she’d hit it, she wanted to know. Pivoting to get out, she put her feet on the ground, sinking her boots into a half foot of snow.

Fighting against a sudden rush of nausea, she took hold of the car door and yanked her body into a standing position. She cried out as her knees gave in and she crumpled to the ground.

She lay on the ground, the cold and wetness seeping into her. Sunlight filtered through the trees above her, entrancing her into staying where she was. Would someone come along and find her? It was unlikely considering she hadn’t seen a car from the moment she’d left the motel.

Get moving. If you lie here, you’re going to freeze to death once night comes.

Yelping at the pain her movements inflicted, she rolled over onto her stomach then pushed her body into a sitting position. She shook her head, ridding her face of the snow. The world spun around her to create a kaleidoscope of dark browns mixed with brilliant white.

My phone.

She twisted around slowly, painstakingly, to search the car. Her phone rested on the floor mat, so close, and yet the distance seemed insurmountable. Still, she tried, once again bringing a stabbing flash of pain. Against her will, her tears broke free, but she managed a shout of victory as her fingertips touched her cell phone.

Call for help.

Idly, she wondered if calling 9-1-1 twice in less than a week was a new record.

She clasped her phone and brought it in front of her face. Wiping away the blood that had settled on her eyelid, she squinted at the phone and tried to make out the screen. But her eyes wouldn’t focus enough for her to see the icons. Instead, she gambled, pressing what she hoped was the On button. Swiping her finger across the screen, she heard the familiar sound of her cell unlocking, and she smiled, for the first time feeling a spark of hope.

She looked harder, willing her eyes to see the phone icon. When at last her vision grew clearer, she punched it and saw the display change into the large numbers of the keypad. She punched in 9-1-1 and put the receiver to her ear.

Nothing. No dial tone. No sound at all.
She bit her lower lip and forced herself to stay calm.

I’m going to get out of this. Think. Don’t let your emotions take over.

She swallowed and tried going through the steps again. Still no sound. Fear trickled into her, but she pushed it back again, determined not to give in. Shoving the phone into the pocket of her jacket, she grabbed the door with one hand and flattened her other palm against the side of the car. Gritting back a cry, she stood up and tested her legs.

Okay. I’m still on my feet. That’s good. I can find my own help
.

She glanced around and saw the tracks her car had made in the road as it had spun around and into the forest. She’d gotten lucky that her car hadn’t careened off the side of the mountain.

Gathering her wits, she decided that she had four choices. She could stay inside the car and wait for help to come. But she wasn’t the type to wait, and who knew how long it would be before someone came along.

She could walk back to the motel. She wasn’t sure how long it would take, but at least once there she’d get dry and warm. Scanning the road back the way she’d come, she weighed her chances of walking up the icy road with its steep incline. She doubted she could make it without losing her footing and either breaking a bone or slipping off the edge and plummeting to her death.

Should she start walking downhill? But going downhill was as slippery as going uphill, and she knew it would take her hours before she’d make it to the first rest stop that had a gas station.

She turned and faced the woods. Could she make it very far in the forest? Once she’d taken that route, she’d have little chance that anyone would find her. Not that anyone was looking. Willa and Bill would assume she’d made it off the mountain and wouldn’t check on her. Only Tatum knew she was headed home, and if she didn’t show up in two days, Tee would simply assume that she’d taken another detour. Weeks would have to pass before Tee grew worried enough to raise an alarm.

She rubbed her arms, fighting against the chill creeping into her bones, and made her choice. At least if she made it downhill, she had a chance of running into someone. She’d just have to keep moving and hope that would keep her warm enough until she found help.

Shay took a step toward the road then stopped at the crashing sound that came from directly behind her. Whirling around, she stared, alarm clogging her throat.

Could it be the Thing I saw on the road?

A small fawn broke through the trees and slammed to a stop. Its huge black eyes fixed on her, looking as stunned as she felt. The fawn’s light brown coat was dotted with dark spots. It was a vision of wilderness beauty against the pristine backdrop of the snow-covered trees.

A giggle escaped as relief swamped her.
The Thing? Drama queen much? What next? The creature from
Alien
? Get a grip, girl.

A fawn was better than confronting the Thing in the road. She smiled and forgot about the pain in her forehead for the first time since running into the trees.

But her joy was short lived as a dark movement to the right and back of the fawn caught her attention. Was that the Thing? Or something even worse?

A vision of the glowing eyes and the long fangs froze her. Warning bells clanged in her head to get back into the car, and yet she stayed where she was. After everything that had happened, after everything she’d seen and done in the past few days, she couldn’t stomach the idea of the fawn dying a terrible death.

“No way, no how. I am not going to let whatever it is hurt you,” she whispered. Searching around her, she found a large branch that, for one reason or another, wasn’t covered with snow. She moved slowly, carefully, and picked it up then hefted it, judging its weight.

Hoping that the fawn could sense she was on her side, she lifted the branch over her head and circled the car. The Thing in the underbrush moved again and growled. Shay sucked in her gasp, rethought her idea, then forged ahead.

It’s probably a rabbit. Yeah, like rabbits growl all the time.

Making a semicircle through the snow, she worked her way toward the brush, putting herself behind the predator. Once in position behind a large tree, she waited for it to move closer to the fawn.

If she hadn’t thought it impossible, she would’ve guessed that the fawn was fascinated and knew what she had planned. The branch was heavy and its bark bit into her skin, but she held it firmly over her head, ready to react.

Everything happened at once. She saw the brush shaking as the animal broke through its branches and dashed toward the fawn. The fawn jumped into the air then spun around to bolt into the forest. As a large wolf rushed out of the forest, she brought down the branch as fast and as hard as she could. Her vision blurred in the same moment that she hit the animal. Shockwaves shuddered through her arms and she dropped the branch.

Shit.

Unable to control her body, she fell forward, darkness overcoming her.

Rosh groaned and pushed over to face upward. He blinked at the sunlight as the ache in the back of his head seared a path along both sides of it. The snow against his back and rump didn’t bother him. He’d always enjoyed the cold weather with or without clothing. But after chasing Kira for a mile in a game of hide-and-seek, the chill felt good.

Groaning again, he ran his palm over his hair and down to the curve of his neck, expecting to find the warm stickiness of blood, and yet found nothing. No doubt a knot would form soon enough even if the blow hadn’t broken his skin.

What the crap hit me?

He let out a curse that was meant for both himself and the unseen assailant. He’d gotten so involved with playing with Kira that he hadn’t paid attention to his surroundings. That was a bad mistake to make in either The Outside or in The Hidden.

Kira.

He sat up, ignoring the slashes of agony, and searched the area. Had the attacker taken the young one? If so, he’d spend his last breath finding her. He sniffed, trying to locate either Kira’s human or fawn scent, but couldn’t. He hoped she’d run off in time—especially before he’d shifted back to his human and
very
naked form—and was already well on her way back home.

Although shape-shifters were used to seeing everyone nude, young and old, he couldn’t shake the uneasiness of being around a preteen girl while in his butt-naked human body and out like a light. He’d shifted into his wolf form behind a bush when Kira had begged him to play. She’d laughed at his shyness—after all, she’d grown up in The Hidden, and she was used to seeing everyone bare assed—but his conservative upbringing in Toledo, Ohio, was too difficult to shake.

Once again, he glanced around and saw no sign of her. She had to have gotten away.

A small form lay close by, the dark hair hiding the assailant’s face. Her red jacket made a splash of color in the pristine snow. She was a lump on the ground, but there was no ignoring the body.

Her rounded bottom caught his attention. Her rump was the perfect size for a man to grab hold of as he plunged his cock deep inside her ass. The hair that hid her face was long and lustrous, urging him to run the silky strands between his fingers. Her legs were shapely even under the denim, and he wondered what treat was disguised by the bulky jacket she wore.

A woman had gotten the best of him? Even worse, a human woman? Humiliation mixed with the pounding of his headache. If the others got wind of the attack, he’d end up a laughingstock. He hoped Kira wouldn’t say anything.

The woman moaned and moved a bit then stopped. He crawled over to her and leaned closer to take a big whiff. He’d expected her to smell like most women, but her aroma held an extra spice that entranced him. He drew in a longer breath, wanting more of her fragrance.

Damn, but she smells good. Like wildflowers on a sunny spring morning. Like the honey from a beehive with a taste of jalapeño pepper thrown in for an added pop
of flavor.

She was spicy, sweet, with a good dose of female pheromones thrown in. He couldn’t help himself. He skimmed his hand along the curve of her luscious butt cheek, paused, then squeezed it. She was firm yet pliable, exactly how he liked his women.

She moaned again, and he could easily imagine her moans of desire as he spanked her butt and slid his cock between the crease of her bottom and into the dark recess of her anus. He pulled his hand away reluctantly then took her by the shoulder and rolled her onto her back.

She’s stunning.

He swept away the hair that covered one cheek and studied her oval face. She wouldn’t win any beauty pageants by society’s standards, but that was what made her so attractive to him. Instead of the flawless symmetry that movie stars and models strove to attain, her features spoke of intelligence and a maturity well past her years. Her body was fuller, riper than the skinny women most men found alluring. She had real breasts that were larger than his wide hands and pushed at the zipper of her coat. Her rounded stomach didn’t flatten out even while she was on her back. She was all woman.

Damn. She’s hurt. I’m gawking at her, and she’s lying here hurt.

Guilt flashed through him, but he stubbornly pushed it away. It wasn’t as though he was groping her without her knowledge like some kind of pervert.

Although I kind of did
.

He thrust the thought away. He hadn’t asked her to butt in. It was her own fault that she’d gotten hurt.

Dried blood formed around the injury to her forehead, but a fresh ribbon of blood oozed from it. She must’ve reopened a previous wound when she fell. He touched the gash to determine how deep it was and was relieved to find that it wasn’t too bad. He unzipped her coat, telling himself that he needed to check her for any other signs of injury.

The jacket fell away from her generous breasts, and he had to struggle to take in air. The low-cut blouse she wore had shifted with her movements. One breast was fully exposed with her nipple peeking out from above the neckline of her shirt. Her brown areola was larger than most women’s, and her nipple—due no doubt to the chill in the air—was pebbled. Saliva filled his mouth as he could almost feel the textured bud against his tongue as he licked the top of it and held it between his teeth.