Page 29 of Handcuffed to the Bear

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

Jack gave a short, pained laugh, and sat down without speaking. Casey recognized that he was going to, and managed to sit with him rather than being dragged down.

We do make a pretty good team.

Their sloppy moss-and-root bandaging job had been working out even worse than Casey had been afraid of. The moss simply wouldn’t stay on, and the most they’d been able to do was pack it onto the worst places and then have Jack keep it on by holding his arm clamped to his side. She could tell it hurt him a lot, but the only way he’d expressed it was by getting quieter.

At least it wasn’t bleeding anymore. This was the first time she’d had an opportunity to see fast shifter healing in action, aside from her own childhood bruises and minor scrapes while she was growing up. Already the terrible ragged edges of his wound had begun to knit at the edges. It was so fascinating she had to try not to stare at it.

The gash in her leg had sealed up again, too, though it still throbbed and itched. Her feet had mostly stopped hurting, and tingled faintly as she sat still. Her thighs and the backs of her knees were a mass of cramps and aches.

Also, she was thirsty again. Very thirsty. And hungry.

Because this whole situation hadn’t been miserable enough before ...

Their previous overlook had faced the ocean. This one looked down into a valley with a narrow, twisting stream at the bottom and steep hills on the other side. The ocean was hazily visible in the distance, shadowed by the thickening wall of ominous dark clouds.

As Casey looked out at the oncoming storm, a purple tongue of lightning stabbed the sea, making her jump. She waited for the thunder, but none came. Maybe it was still too far away to hear it.

Turning the other way, she saw nothing but hills. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say mountains; they weren’t as big and impressive as the Rockies, or even the Cascades, but they went higher and higher until their windswept upper slopes were bare of trees.

Surely there must besomethingon an island this size other than wilderness.

“Gonna need you to tell me what you see,” Jack said suddenly.

“Crap. Sorry. I forgot.”

She described the view to him, ending with, “I can’t tell if these are the same hills I was looking at before, or different ones.”

“Probably part of the same,” Jack said. “The way I figure it, there’s a bunch of little water-carved valleys running up into the main mountain range, radiating out like spokes. We were going roughly west and downhill in the creek. Then we came up over another ridge, and now we’re facing north, and the hills are to our right instead of behind us.”

“Wow,” she said, impressed. “You can navigate better than I can even without being able tosee.”

“Bears have a good sense of direction,” Jack said. He gave her a shadow of a smile. “We’re long-distance ramblers.”

“Speaking of our animal side ...” She made sure their cuffed hands were resting on the ground so she didn’t pull him off balance, and then shifted. It was more of an effort than usual; she was tired.

The world’s map of smells sprang into sudden sharp clarity for her lynx senses. She spent a moment sniffing the air and listening with her pricked, tufted ears. The smell of blood was almost overwhelming in this form—she had to concentrate hard to scent anything else through it.

“Anything?” Jack asked when she shifted back.

“No, they aren’t close yet.” She squinted at the mountains again, her gaze lingering on dark patches under the ridgeline. “I still think there are caves up there. It’s hard to tell, though.” She tried to think strategically. “If we go up there, we won’t have as many trees to hide behind.”

“Trees aren’t our friends right now,” Jack said. “The forest is more of an asset to the lions than to us.”

“More climbing, then?”

“More climbing,” he sighed.

He didn’t seem to need her support anymore, but he didn’t take the lead, either. They went side by side, with their hands linked because it was simply easier that way.

As they climbed, the sun was lost completely behind a dark gray bank of clouds. A chilly wind raised goosebumps on Casey’s arms.

“Looks like rain’s on its way in,” Jack said.

“Is that good or bad?”

“Could be both.” He concentrated on navigating a tricky stretch of rocks for a minute. “In the plus column, rain’ll wash out our trail. Make it harder for the pride to find us.”

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