Second Nature (64 page)

"Nella! Let go of Jorie!" Brian's baritone shouted over the liger's furious growls. "Griffin thinks you're attacking her!"

Nella's grip suddenly disappeared, and Jorie lost her balance. Leaves cushioned her fall, but not before she landed face-first on the forest floor. Earth crunched between her teeth. She wanted to spit it out and sit up, cursing, but fear kept her shackled to the ground.

She felt the giant cat lurk behind her, crouched just above her vulnerable neck. An image of the bloodstained canines throttling the white wolf to death flashed through her mind.

Hot breath made the fine hairs on her neck tremble. Or maybe it was her whole body that was trembling. Jorie flinched as the liger's saliva spattered against her bare skin.

A massive paw appeared in Jorie's line of sight.

Her heart raced. If only her feet could race like this too. She wanted to flee, to run as fast and as far away as possible, but with the liger crouched above her, escape was impossible. Jorie closed her eyes.
This is how a mouse must feel when it's cornered by a cat.

Dimly, she was aware that Brian and Nella were murmuring softly, trying to calm Griffin down.

Not that it was doing any good. The liger ignored them.

The paw came forward.

Jorie's vivid imagination let her already feel the crippling pain as the claws slashed through her flesh, but she stubbornly clung to the hope that Griffin wouldn't hurt her. Her eyes squeezed shut. A tear trembled on her lashes.

A gentle paw, claws sheathed, thumped against her shoulder.

Caught between hope and fear, Jorie opened her eyes and stared at the reddish-golden paw that touched her again.

Oh, God! I've seen this before.
Her cats used the same maneuver to see whether the mouse was dead or would run if they touched it.

Jorie wanted to run but knew there was no mousehole for her. Nowhere to hide. Playing dead was not an option either. Dead women didn't tremble uncontrollably.

The massive paw lifted again. Thick fur brushed along Jorie's bare neck. She felt the warmth of the pad against her skin.

Fear squeezed her insides. Her stomach roiled. Was the liger holding her down, making sure she wouldn't struggle as she searched for the best spot to place her canines?

No sharp teeth slashed through her, though. No claws pierced her skin. Then the warm touch was gone.

Jorie tried to rein in her trembling.
Get yourself together. Never show weakness to a predator.

She waited, trying to calm her frantic breathing. Was Griffin gone?

Seconds ticked by.

Finally, she couldn't stand the waiting any longer. Slowly, careful not to give the big cat that might still be crouched over her any reason to attack, she rolled around.

Her gaze collided with the liger's only inches away.

It's me! It's me,
she wanted to shout. She had gambled her life on Griffin recognizing her as a friend, not as prey, but suddenly, she wasn't so sure anymore.

The liger looked down at her, her mouth wide open to take in Jorie's scent.

Please, please, please.
Jorie wanted to look away, but the cat's gaze held her captive. She lay still and prayed that Griffin's scent was covering her like a protective shield.

The big head lowered toward Jorie. Ivory canines flashed just inches away.

Fear made her feel as if she were trying to breathe underwater. Jorie felt faint. "Griffin," she whispered.

The massive jaw snapped open. Warm breath hit her.

Jorie's fingers dug into the cold earth. "No. Please."

A rough tongue rasped over her cheek.

"Oh, Jesus Christ." Jorie laughed hysterically as her adrenaline high finally ebbed. "Griffin, cut that out." She tried to squirm away, but the liger was thoroughly cleaning the wounds on Jorie's neck.

Finally, the licking stopped.

Now it was relief that made Jorie tremble. She felt like a prisoner on death row who had been pardoned at the very last second. She reached up and scratched softly behind one of Griffin's ears, careful not to touch the wounds that covered Griffin. "Griffin," she murmured as a rumbling purr began.

"Try to get her to shift," Brian's voice intruded into the private world that consisted just of Jorie and the liger.

Jorie blinked and looked up. "How?" she asked. Now that it was finally time to communicate and get Griffin to shift and heal her wounds, Jorie realized she had no idea how to do it.

"Just talk to her," Brian said. "She'll want to understand what you're saying, and part of her knows that there's just one way to do that."

Carefully, Jorie got up on her knees. "Come on, Griffin," she said softly. "Enough cat-and-mouse games for today. It's time to shift back."

The liger turned her head, offering Jorie her other ear to scratch too.

"No, not scratch. Shift." Jorie shook her head and with a hint of regret took away her scratching hand from the warm fur. She gestured at her own, human body. "Shift."

The big head nuzzled her, almost sending Jorie tumbling into the leaves again. Then the liger stood still, her gaze directed at something that only she could see. Blood-crusted fur slowly receded. Her wounds were already beginning to close as naked skin appeared.

Groaning more with exhaustion than with pain, Griffin collapsed.

With a sigh of relief, Jorie gave in to the demands of her exhausted body, sank into the leaves next to the shifting Griffin, and closed her eyes.

She opened them again when long fingers threaded through her own. A feeling of peace flowed through her. She turned her head and met Griffin's tired smile. "You know there's something I've been meaning to tell you," Jorie said.

"Yes?" Griffin prompted, clearly too tired to say much more.

Jorie nodded. "Your cat form could use a breath mint."

In a smooth move that belied her tiredness and her injuries, Griffin rolled around and leaned over Jorie. "Oh, yeah?" she asked huskily.

Suddenly faced with six feet of naked Griffin, all thought fled Jorie's mind. "Oh, yeah," she confirmed, staring up into the swirling whiskey-colored eyes.

"Still think so now?" Griffin asked. She lowered her head until her breath warmed Jorie's face.

"Think w-what?" Thinking wasn't a priority right now.

Never closing her eyes or breaking eye contact, Griffin lowered her face until her lips touched Jorie's, just connecting, not invading.

Jorie allowed herself to enjoy the tender contact for just a moment, then pulled away.

"What is it?" Griffin asked. Her lips curled into a charming smile as she winked at Jorie. "You're not afraid I'll turn into a frog, are you?"

It was a line of dialogue from her novel. Jorie grinned, charmed, but then saw the concern in Griffin's eyes.
She's afraid I'll reject her, and she's hiding behind a joke.
"Oh, no," she answered with a reassuring smile and a line from her book. "I know it takes more than one tiny kiss to accomplish that. It's just that we're both exhausted and in need of some medical attention; you've got blood all over you, and your parents, Max, a few members of the pride, and half a dozen angry-looking Syak are watching us."

Griffin's warmth disappeared from above Jorie as she sank back into the leaves. "Great," she grumbled. "That's what I get for getting my parents involved. I bet if you wrote this scene, the heroine wouldn't be denied a proper kiss after she heroically risked her life and beat the bad guy."

Now clad in a half-shredded pair of pants, Brian joined them. "Don't complain. We saved your sorry asses." He knelt down next to Griffin and examined her wounds. They still looked very raw, but the bleeding had already slowed to a trickle. "Let's get you two back to the bed-and-breakfast before Jennings's pack decides that avenging their leader is more important than following council orders."

*  *  *

Every muscle in Jorie's body was screaming at her. Scrapes and bruises all over her body suddenly came to life. Exhaustion gripped her, but she refused to give in to it before Brian finished his examination of Griffin and told her she would be okay. She leaned back against Nella's couch and watched as Griffin, sitting on the other end of the couch, flinched when Brian pressed against one of her wounds.

"Just for the record," Jorie said, hoping to distract Griffin from the pain. "If I had written this scene, it wouldn't have been the poor human who had to run from a predator again. Why not have the shape-shifter run for a change? Readers like variety."

Griffin's hand reached across the length of the couch and wrapped around Jorie's fingers.

Jorie soaked up the reassuring warmth.

"I'm sorry," Griffin said. "I know jumping down that ladder and letting yourself be chased by Jennings must have been terrifying, but there was just no time to explain."

"How did you know he wouldn't just shoot me?" Jorie asked.

"When he shot at us in front of the bed-and-breakfast, he was only shooting at me, not at you. Jennings wanted me out of the way quickly, and he didn't care how he did it, but you... with you, it was personal for him. He hated humans. He wanted to hunt you down, feel the rush of the hunt, see the fear in your eyes, and not just shoot you from a distance."

The words brought the memory of being chased back to life. Wild blue eyes flashed through her mind, and Jorie shivered.

Griffin squeezed her hand, bringing her back to the present. "Up in the lookout, I thought about that dream you had, about the wolf with the blue eyes chasing you, and I realized if you ran, Jennings's hunting instincts would get the best of him. He couldn't stop himself from shifting. He dropped the gun, and that finally gave me a chance to take him down." Her head dipped, and her gaze connected with Jorie's. "Thank you for trusting me — and for trusting your dream visions. That dream about Will and you on the tree... that was what gave you the idea to climb up on the lookout, right?"

Jorie just nodded. She was too tired to go into detail right now, too tired to even think about what it all meant.

Nella wandered over. She handed Griffin a pair of sweatpants and a large T-shirt; then she stood silently looking down at Jorie. Something in her gaze had changed. "So she really is a dream seer?" Nella asked.

"She is," Griffin said, no hint of doubt in her voice.

Instead of being reassuring, her confidence scared Jorie. A part of her still didn't want to believe that she was somehow connected to the Wrasa in a way and for reasons she didn't understand. The denial of a lifetime was hard to overcome. Still, Jorie had always been a realist. She couldn't deny that following the visions from her dreams had saved her life. If she hadn't trusted her instincts and made them climb on the hunter's lookout, giving Griffin time to come up with a plan, Jennings would have just shot Griffin and then hunted Jorie down.

"I still don't understand how it's possible," Brian said. He finished his examination of Griffin's healing wounds and carried the first-aid kit over to Jorie's side of the couch. "She's human, not Wrasa."

Ouch. Yes, and maybe that's why this is hurting so much.
Brian's hands were unexpectedly gentle, but it still hurt when he cleaned the superficial wounds on her neck.

"Are you so sure about that?" Griffin looked over at them, watching her father's every move. She was still holding on to Jorie's hand, her thumb stroking soothing circles.

Despite the scratches covering Jorie's hands, it felt good. Safe.

I wonder if she's even aware she's doing that.

"Jennings was the only one who read the results of Jorie's DNA test," Griffin said to her father. "He told me it said she's human, but I never saw the results with my own eyes."

"You tested my DNA?" After the length to which Jennings and the Saru had gone to kill her, it probably shouldn't surprise her, but the invasion of her privacy hurt nonetheless.

Griffin's gaze darted away. "Sorry," she whispered.

Jorie gave a hesitant nod. Thinking of how Griffin had betrayed her still hurt, but so much had happened since then. Griffin had risked so much for her — her job, her family, her very life. It was time to move past what had happened and trust Griffin again.

"Then we'll test it again," Brian said. "Only if you agree, of course," he added when Griffin nudged him.

Jorie nodded tiredly. Finally getting some answers would be good.

"I have a few connections and can get someone in our lab to put a rush on it while Nella und Ky use their influence to get the council to extend the forty-eight hours," Brian said. "We need an official order from the council or the Saru will close in on us now that they know where Jorie is hiding. While our pride has some fierce hunters, we can't survive an all-out war against the Saru."

Nella frowned at him, clearly used to making her own decisions instead of being part of a team. For a few seconds, Jorie thought she would refuse, but then Nella nodded.

"Good." Brian returned her nod. He stood and stripped off his latex gloves. "Can you and Max keep an eye on Jennings's pack?" he asked Nella. "Even should the council extend the forty-eight hours, I want to make sure that the Syak are not going rogue to avenge Jennings. I'll take Griffin and Jorie back. They'll be safest in the middle of the pride while we wait for the DNA results. I can have some members of the border patrol to stay behind if you think you might need them."

"No. Max and I can handle a few wolves just fine," Nella said curtly. Her gaze softened when she looked at Griffin. "Be careful."

CHAPTER 26

"
A
RE YOU REALLY okay? How do the wounds look?" Jorie asked when Griffin stepped out of the bathroom and back into the guest room. Brian and Gus had offered to let them stay at the Eldridges' house, but Griffin had declined, saying that they were safer at Rhonda's, where people weren't coming and going at all hours of the day. If any Wrasa ignored the truce the council had called until they made a decision, they'd search for Jorie and Griffin at the bigger, better protected house.