“She’s a shifter, but apparently with dog DNA.”
“No kidding.” Jesper chuckled.
Nik smiled. He’d scented the omega’s attraction to Nexus.
Emma pressed her hands against her temples as a pounding headache pulsed through her. Each bout of blinding agony somehow eased the pain in her ankle, even after the headache passed. Emma stared down at her leg. The swelling had completely vanished. How can that be? She wiggled her ankle, normal movement. She pressed her temple, anticipating another head-exploding throb. Hmm. She blinked. Nothing. Headache gone, too.
Emma gasped. The scent of a world she was once blind to accosted her nose. Like being in a store with thousands of spices, all demanding she pick them up. She smelled everything around her, yet the sensation was so overwhelming she couldn’t identify one scent. Emma clapped her hands over her ears as every sound called for her attention. Noise pierced her in high and low frequencies as if she were trapped in a sonic storm. She fell on all fours and cried out as sensory overload shook her.
Shit. I must be shifting. Only she didn’t. No fur, no paws, no ripping out of her clothing, and no fangs or clawed hands. Emma closed her eyes and took a calming breath. After the initial shock, she adjusted to the sensory overload, beginning to recognize individual smells and sounds and not reacting to them. Would the shift happen soon? She sniffed, categorizing every odor. Pine. Soil. Mammals of every variety. Humans. She inhaled, invigorating. Odd, the chimera male werewolves didn’t have super senses like she did while in human form. Yet, she and Nexus did. Unlike Nexus, she remained human. Perhaps, it had to do with Bolton's latest altered drug.
A distant helicopter alerted her to look up. Still too far out, but she sensed it must be Saskia. She narrowed her gaze. Wow. I can see every detail. A military helicopter, probably part of Bolton’s illegal cache. Did the improved formula include a gene to enhance long distance sight?
No time to figure out what kind of chimera DNA Bolton injected into her, she scrambled away. But to where? She sniffed. Away from werewolves. To the west. With her ankle pain gone, she ran, and then sprinted like an Olympic runner. No, like a racehorse. An exhilarating feeling. Yet, why was she still in human form? She supposed better than becoming a monster. Although in wolf form, the fur would have kept her warmer. Though she felt a chill, it wasn’t as bad as if she were human. What am I? Bolton had hinted that the chimera drug was an improvement, human but with superior senses and strength. Good for flight, but not fighting monstrous werewolves.
A distant, blood-curdling howl echoed through the woods. Her highly attuned hearing recognized the distinct howl of a female werewolf: Saskia. She also understood the emotion behind it. Rage. Things were not going as Saskia planned. So much for giving Emma a half-hour head start.
Emma didn’t stop running. With her newly acquired speed, she might make it to a nearby road. She scented a river running westward.
She paused and sniffed. Humans. Their obvious scent as thick as cheap aftershave. Luckily, they weren’t Bolton’s men. They smelled different and there were definitely three of them. The scent of a campfire. The campers. Yet, Bolton had mentioned there were four including the adult. Had one of them been separated? Or had the adult gone for help? She had to warn them now before it’s too late.
Emma sprinted toward the river. A couple tents sat next to the river. Three preteens huddled around the campfire. She scanned the area for trouble then approached. “Hello.”
They froze, but then one of the boys stood. “You found us.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Did you see Mr. Aker, Rick?” asked another boy.
“No, I’m afraid not. How long ago has he been gone?” She hadn’t caught the scent of anyone else within that vicinity.
“About two hours. Rick went to find help. He told us to stay here.”
The man hollering at Bolton’s property must have been him. Help wasn’t coming. “We can’t. We need to leave now.”
“Are you with search and rescue?” asked the boy, who appeared to be the oldest.
“Yes.” At least your best bet for now. “My name is Emma.”
The bigger boy introduced himself. “I’m Pete.”
“I’m Brad,” said the blond boy.
“Jake,” said the last, the smallest of the three.
Pete folded his arms. “We should wait for Rick.”
“Normally, that would be a good idea.” She hated scaring the crap out of them, but had no choice. “I’ll be honest, if we stay here, we’ll be murdered.”
“You mean by a serial killer?” asked Brad.
“Yes, only not just one, but several.”
The distant howls made them twist toward the calls.
“Wolves,” said Pete.
Might as well be honest. “That’s them.”