Amber Eyes (Wild 2)

Chapter Two

The cougar waited patiently until the cabin went dark and all sounds within were silenced. Hunger gnawed at her belly, and pain was her constant companion. She needed food. She needed to shift.

Her eyes glowed in the dark as she stared, alert and listening for movement. It was time.

There on the floor, the golden brown fur rippled and blurred. Pink skin replaced animal hide. Long, honey colored hair, feminine tresses, flowed down her neck as the eyes of the cat became human.

Fingers curled and dug into the hard floor, and a human gasp of pain hovered in the room as her injured hand protested the change.

Never before had she attempted to shift when she was so close to humans. But she needed food, and she needed the rejuvenation her human form would bring. It had been too long since the cat had made a kill. Game had been scarce.

Now that she was human again, the raw meat of her prey was no longer enticing. Her mouth watered and her stomach growled at the thought of cooked food. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed such a luxury.

She picked herself up and stood, wavering on unsteady legs. Chills chased up and down her naked skin, causing an uncontrolled shiver to quake her spine.

“I am Kaya,” she whispered as she stared down at her human form. It was a reminder, one she gave herself on the few occasions she embraced her humanity. Over the years, her memories had become fuzzy, and it was hard to separate what was real from what was fantasy.

She had been forgotten by the humans, but she wouldn’t let herself forget her past or her heritage.

On silent feet, she crept toward the cabin door, testing the lock. To her relief, it opened easily, and she slid inside the much warmer interior. After so long spent seeking what warmth she could in dens and small caves, the heated interior of the cabin was as close to heaven as she would ever come.

For a moment she simply stood there, soaking in the warmth, allowing her insides a slow melt. Then, remembering that she was no longer the cat, she hurried forward. It wouldn’t do for the two men to discover her.

Jericho and Hunter.

She didn’t know why she’d been drawn to them or what possessed her to seek them out each time they returned to their cabin. Maybe it was her own loneliness and a desire to be around other humans even when she herself was not in human form.

A large shirt lay carelessly over a chair as if thrown there without thought. She reached out and caressed the soft material. She inhaled, scenting the male who’d worn it last. The one called Jericho.

She loved his smell. His and Hunter’s. It was what had first drawn the cougar to the isolated cabin high in the Rocky Mountains.

She knew from their conversations that they were as mistrustful of other humans as she was. Had they been cast aside like her? Forgotten?

They liked her and looked forward to her visits. The idea that her company brought them pleasure gave her an inexplicable thrill.

The material of the shirt felt good against her fingertips, and without thought, she picked it up and wrapped it around her body. It enveloped her, brushing across her skin like the warm spring sun after a harsh winter.

She quickly buttoned it even though she’d have to remove it before she shifted back. It was a temporary pleasure she wouldn’t deny herself. She enjoyed so few that she clung tenaciously to this one.

Irritated that such a simple treat could sidetrack her from her goal, she hurried into the kitchen, the smell of fresh food guiding her. Her mouth watered as she found a pot of a wonderful-smelling concoction on the stove and next to it a half-eaten round of cornbread.

She stared impatiently at the meat mixture in the pot and sniffed, trying to ascertain the contents. It didn’t matter. She was so hungry, she could eat anything.

Grabbing the large spoon from the counter, she dipped it into the pot and brought it to her mouth. She slurped hungrily at the food even as her injured hand reached for the cornbread. When she lowered the spoon to get more, she stuffed a piece of the cornbread in her mouth, chewing rapidly.

She worked at it indelicately, shoveling food into her mouth in an attempt to soothe the desperate hunger beating at her.

“What the hell?”

She froze and then jerked around, her heart pounding viciously. Jericho stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his eyes dark and his expression hard. The light was on behind him in the living room. She hadn’t even registered it or him coming into the kitchen, so absorbed was she in eating.

She dropped the spoon with a clatter and immediately sidestepped to try and get around him.

“Whoa now,” he said in a soothing voice. He held out his hands in a placating manner even as he circled toward her. “I’m not going to hurt you, lady. I just want some questions answered. Like what the hell you’re doing in my kitchen wearing nothing but my shirt.”

“Jericho?” Hunter’s sleepy voice, laced with grumpiness, reached her ears. “Who the hell are you talking to?”

Kaya used that

moment of inattention, when Hunter rounded the corner of the kitchen and laid shocked, angry eyes on her, to her advantage. When Jericho turned to Hunter, she launched herself across the kitchen and past Jericho.

She heard his curse and then the pounding of feet as he took off after her, but she was out already. She burst onto the porch and flew to the door, her last barrier to freedom.

Fumbling only for a split second with the hook, she flung it open and leaped into the snow. The cold was a shock to her bare skin, but she didn’t stop. Finding the harder, packed snow, she flew across the ice and headed for higher ground. The safety of her den.

She couldn’t be certain whether they followed, so she didn’t shift. Her footprints would lay heavy in the snow, and she couldn’t very well leave a trail that showed human prints turning to animal. And there was the shredded shirt she’d leave behind.

She backtracked several times, trying to mess up the vivid prints she was leaving. And then, as the moon lifted higher in the sky, light snow began to fall, and she gave thanks to the Great Maker for the protection offered.

She stumbled back onto the familiar trail, numb with cold and fear. The adrenaline that had coursed so readily through her veins, lending strength and endurance, had rapidly diminished, leaving her nearly frozen, her feet clumsy and awkward.

The cougar stirred within her, restless and edgy, wanting freedom it was unused to being denied. It sensed the human was weak and in need of protection.

Kaya leashed the cat, using all her strength to ward off the shift. Not now. Not when she was open and vulnerable. Just a few more feet. She could make it. The wind picked up as the snow began falling harder. Bitter and unrelenting, it pierced her skin and the meager protection Jericho’s shirt offered.

She stumbled across the smooth rock outcropping and hovered precariously close to the edge. Below was vast nothingness, shrouded in darkness. A river, shrunk down to nothing, carved its way through the valley she stood above. In the spring, it would roar with the rains and melting snow.

Weakly, she walked, and when she fell, she crawled toward the entrance to the small cave etched into the rock. It faced south, protected from the fierce north winds. On hands and knees she forced herself those final few feet until she was out of the wind and snow and into the warmth offered by the cave.

She crawled to the innermost portion and huddled against the wall, exhausted and weak. She needed to shift. Needed the warmth of the cougar’s fur and much stronger body mass. But she couldn’t keep her eyes open long enough to allow the cat its freedom.

Chapter Three

“Where did the crazy bitch come from?” Jericho demanded as he and Hunter pulled on boots and coats.

Hunter grunted. “This was your idea. Just remember that.”

“We can’t leave her to freeze to death,” Jericho said patiently.

“Why not?”

Jericho stared balefully at Hunter’s solemn expression. “You can’t tell me that you’d doctor a wild cougar but leave a defenseless woman to certain death.”

Hunter shrugged. “I didn’t ask for her to invade our privacy. She let the cougar out. Nothing but trouble. And now you want to wade ass-deep through the snow so she doesn’t freeze to death. Here’s a newsflash for you, Jericho. She was half naked, and she took off into a snow bank. We’re not dealing with the brightest bulb.”

“She was scared to death,” Jericho said grimly. “And she was obviously hungry. She was way too damn skinny, and she was shoveling food into her mouth like there was no tomorrow.”

“You just happened to notice how skinny she was,” Hunter said dryly as he finished lacing up his boots.

“It was hard to miss. She was standing in the kitchen wearing only my shirt. She was a tiny little thing. It looked like a dress on her.”

“And you get on my ass about taking in strays? At least mine are the animal variety.”

“I just want to make sure she’s okay. These mountains are no place for a woman alone. Hell, she’s probably already frozen to death,” Jericho muttered. He didn’t want to stop and examine his reasons for the panic that idea instilled. If he could hurry Hunter’s ass out of the cabin, they could track her before the snowfall got too heavy.

Collecting the floodlights and backpacks, Hunter grudgingly followed Jericho off the back porch and into the deep snow.

Her vivid prints made for easy tracking for the first while. Then it became evident that she’d backtracked to try and hide her trail. Jericho frowned. What the hell was she hiding from? Did she have a death wish?