Page 60 of Handcuffed to the Bear

Casey was unable to do anything except clutch her leg, the pain washing out everything except how much it hurt. She thought vaguely that she ought to shift, but couldn’t summon the mental stillness to do it. She had no idea how Jack had been managing.

Practice, probably.

Jack was a ravaged, muddy mess, no more steady on his feet than Derek. Somehow he’d cut his face, and blood dripped off his chin. He hadn’t shifted yet. Casey wasn’t sure why; then the awful thought occurred to her that he might not be able to. Or maybe there wasn’t room. Derek, in his shifted form, nearly filled the cabin.

Dodging the reeling lion, Jack made a lunge for the boat’s small galley. Everything in the cabin was securely fastened down or put away, so there were no loose pots or knives to grab. Casey could see Jack realizing this and changing direction. He pulled the sheet off the bed just as Derek got his legs under him, and threw it over the lion’s head.

There was a thump from the deck, and the boat rocked.Oh God, now what?

Casey wobbled to her feet, standing up to see out the window. She caught a glimpse of a dripping, tawny tail. Roger was on the boat. An instant later his huge claws screeched across the door, and it bowed inward beneath his weight.

“Casey!” Jack gasped. He was wrestling to keep Derek’s head and forelegs wrapped in the sheet, while Derek struggled and lashed out blindly with his huge paws. “Get away from the window!”

Casey ducked only seconds before there was a loudspang!from somewhere on the hull of the boat, followed by the rifle’s report.

One thing she had managed to see, in her brief and dazed glimpse of the shore, was that the boat had drifted quite a way from the dock. The tide was going out, carrying the boat with it. They were almost to the mouth of the cove.

Which, on the one hand, was carrying them steadily farther from Rory, Mara, and the rifle. And that was good.

Unfortunately they had two very angry lions on the boat with them.

Not so good.

Roger roared and threw his whole weight against the door. Made of the same fiberglass as the hull, it didn’t stand a chance; it folded inward, spilling Roger’s forequarters into the already crowded cabin.

His face was a bloody mask. Casey was pretty sure she’d either got the hook-pole thingie in his eye, or opened a deep gash right above it. Either way, he was down to one good eye, and water mixed with blood kept flowing into it from the clawing she’d given him earlier.

Still, he oriented on the two of them with laser-beam accuracy.

Casey, unable to walk, tried to drag herself away. Roger was too big to easily fit through the door in lion form, so he shifted and threw himself after her. She’d been expecting him to go for Jack, as the more dangerous opponent, and was caught unprepared when Roger’s cold, wet hands closed on her arm.

“Jack!” she screamed.

Roger dragged her out the door. His bloody face was so twisted with fury that it hardly looked human. When he opened his mouth, his teeth were sharp predator’s teeth, and claws pressed into her skin; in his fury, he was losing control of his shifting.

“You little bitch,” he snarled, slurring through his fangs. “I’m going to enjoy killing you.”

“Jack!” she screamed again, right before Roger slammed her head against the deck. Sparks danced in front of her eyes. Roger mashed her down against the deck. She tried to rake the handcuffs across his bare skin, but he pinned her arm. She couldn’t shift, couldn’t struggle; she couldn’t even breathe.

Out of the corner of her eye, through dimming vision, she glimpsed movement. Then it changed, humping up as Jack plunged out of the cabin door and burst into his bear form. The bear hit Roger going full tilt, frothing in fury. The two of them slid off the edge of the deck and into the water, Roger shifting as they went.

Casey lay on the deck, shaking. She managed to roll over, but that was as far as she could get. She lay on her back, staring up at the evening sky. She was so cold. Her leg, mercifully, seemed to have gone numb.

Got to get up. Got to help Jack ...

Derek lurched into view, pushing his way painfully through the door onto the deck. He was still wobbly, but moving with purpose. His jaws parted, fangs bared.

Got to get up ...

She reached out blindly, hoping to find the hook on a pole, or something, anything to defend herself. Her fingers did nothing but swipe across the damp deck.

She was so cold. So tired ...

A growl bubbled up in Derek’s throat. He seemed almost to smile.

Then the growl merged into the sound of an engine. Dazed, her consciousness beginning to fade, Casey thought,Jack got the boat going.

No. Jack was in the water.

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