Night Visions (Night Series) (19 page)

God forgive him. He'd failed Sam again.

* * *

Sam sprinted down the hall, sliding on the throw rug as she rounded the corner into the bedroom. Slamming the door behind her
, she fumbled with the latch on the window. Seconds feeling like minutes, the window finally slid open. She scurried through, landing with a thud as her shoulder slammed into the ground.

Air left her lungs in a whoosh. She bit back a moan as she pushed to her feet and took off running. She could hear the crash of the bedroom door behind her. She didn't look back for fear of what she would see. Her legs pumped faster and faster trying to put as much distance between her and the cabin as she could.

She stopped behind a tree, clutching her side, her chest heaving. Listening for the snap of a twig...the shuffling of leaves. Anything to alert her as to where the animal hid. Something rustled behind her. She whirled around expecting to see those flaming eyes again. Nothing. She heard it again from the front and then the right. She spun in a circle not knowing which way to run.

Her muscles screamed in protest as she ran deeper into the woods. Her sense of direction scrambled with each step she took. There was no one up here to help her. No one to hear her screams.

She backed up against a tree, feeling the bark scratch her back as she slid down. Chest heaving, she crammed her hand over her mouth to smother the sounds of her heavy breaths. She jerked her head to the right.

What was that?

“Samanthaaaa…Samanthaa…we're coming for you."

Laughter echoed and bounced around the still night. The hair on the back of her neck stood at attention. She waited, listening. Trying to control her breathing. Again
, the chilling laughter grated into her skull like nails on a chalkboard. Why did they want to hurt her?

Playing with her like a cat's toy. Batting her around for its amusement. Waiting to pounce. Well
, she wasn't going down without a fight.

Adirah. Help me! Tell me what to do!
What was the point in having powers if she couldn't save herself?

Crouched on the damp grass
, she felt a drip on her shoulder. Then another. Icy fingers swept down her neck. She slowly turned her head to come face to face with her worst nightmare.

Sharp canines snapped at her face. Sam screamed. Her slippers slid on the slick leaves. She clawed at the ground trying to push herself to her feet.

A blood-curdling scream tore from Sam's throat as razor sharp teeth ripped into her calf. She could feel it squeezing her muscles tighter and tighter. She kicked at the cougar's face, but it clamped down harder. Pinpoints of light flashed before her eyes. Sam struggled to fight the wave of darkness crashing over her.

"Help me!"

The cougar was torn away from Sam, landing with a thud next to her, Ginger's feral snarls a welcome sound as Sam watched Ginger snap and tear at the cougar's flesh.

Their bodies entwined, roll
ing across the ground. Sam couldn't tell where one began and the other ended.

She pushed herself to her knees, when the cougar pinned Ginger. A branch lay abandoned a few feet away. Struggling to reach the weapon, she swallowed her cries of pain.

Approaching the cougar from behind, Sam swung the branch with such force she felt the crack of bone underneath. The cougar flew off Ginger with a loud thump on the ground, its snarls silenced. Sam collapsed as the adrenaline began to wear off. There wasn't a spot on her body that didn't scream in pain. She could feel the sticky wetness of blood dripping down her temple. Her leg burned like hot coals had been jammed into it. She didn't dare assess the damage. If it were a mess, she would pass out.

Sam looked at Ginger, her breaths so shallow that Sam almost didn't see the rise and fall of her chest. Ginger's fur matted with blood that began to congeal. Sam gagged at the sight of the tear in Ginger's throat. Placing her hand on Ginger's head, she cooed to her, telling her everything would be okay.

But Sam knew it wouldn't. They were in the middle of nowhere. A vet miles away and Ginger was bleeding out. She needed to get back to the cabin to call for help. Sam tried to push herself off the ground but her torn leg betrayed her. Tears fell unchecked mixing with the blood and dirt on her face. Defeat settled in.

The ground began to shake, reminding her that someone else was out there, watching, waiting, ready to strike when she least expected it. Like now, when the only thing that mattered was getting Ginger to safety.

She scrambled back, digging her heels into the ground, fighting to get away from the next onslaught. Her leg protesting with every push. Bile-like acid crawled up her throat.

Twigs snapped in the distance. Her eyes shot up as a bear ran full force at her.

Dear God, no!

Her vision was coming true.

She wrapped her arms over her head and curled into herself, waiting for the bear to attack. Seconds ticked by. When nothing happened, she opened her eyes and found herself staring into a familiar set.

Ian's.

But how? What happened to the bear? Did she imagine it? Did she scare it off? Or was he…

Shaking her head in denial, she squeezed her eyes shut. It wasn't possible. The loss of blood caused her to hallucinate.

Strong arms scooped her off the ground. She cried out as they brushed her open flesh. The arms tightened, holding her closer. She forced her eyes open, trying her best to focus on the face above her.

“Ian.” she breathed. Hazel eyes met hers, anguish burning in them.

“Shh, Sammie. I'm here now.”

And not a moment too soon. If the bear did exist, it would have been tearing her apart. She winced at the thought of more claws tearing through her flesh. As the throb in her leg beat in sync with her heart.

She turned her head searching for Ginger. "Wait. We need to help Ginger."

"She'll be okay. I'll come back for her."

Her head fell against his chest. Bare skin caressed her cheek. She laid her hand against his flesh, enjoying the heat and comfort it provided. How could he be so warm? She was freezing. Yet, every inch of his skin burned, like he'd just stepped out of a steaming hot shower.

Exactly like he'd stepped out of the shower.

“Ian, why are you naked?”

CHAPTER 17

A heavy weight pressed on Sam's chest. Fire licked its way up her calf. Struggling to open her eyes, memories began to surface. Being chased through the woods. Smashing the cougar in the head. Gin's throat torn. A black bear hovering over her with hazel eyes. Ian's eyes.

Trying to bring her surroundings into focus, she glanced down to see Ginger's head resting on her chest. Her chocolate eyes stared into Sam's. How could it be possible? She saw Ginger's throat in shreds. Saw how much blood covered her fur. Now she looked perfectly fine. Was it another dream?

“What happened?” she croaked, shifting her position. A soft moan slipped past her lips. Her pants
were torn up to her knee. White bandages, tinged with blood, wrapped around her calf. Her arm held snug across her abdomen in a sling. She tilted her head to see Ian slouched in the chair next to her. His brow furrowed with worry. No. It wasn't a dream.

Ignoring the throbbing in her leg, even the grinding pain in her shoulder, Sam lifted Ginger off and braced an arm on the bed. She pushed into a sitting position. Shooting points of light flashed through her head. She sucked in deep breaths to keep from passing out.

Ian left his spot in the chair. It didn't take him but a few quick steps to reach her. Then he kneeled beside the bed. Slipping an arm behind her shoulders, he lifted her, propping her against the headboard.

Their eyes met for a moment before he pulled her hand toward him, dropping four tablets into her palm. Without question she popped the pills in her mouth, taking the glass of water in his hand.

The pills seemed to stick to the back of her throat when she took a gulp of the tepid liquid. She didn't care what it was, as long as it killed the pain.

“Sam…" Ian's words hung in the air. "I'm sorry."

She flinched, as if he'd slapped her. Holding up her hand, she waved away his apology, trying to prevent him from saying anything else.

“I thought there were no more secrets?” she whispered, her voice lost in the swirl of emotions racing through her. “What I saw out there… Ginger had her throat ripped out and yet she lays here next to me as if I imagined it. And you…”

“I'm sorry, Sam. I tried to tell you at Trent's, but you were overwhelmed by everything. I wanted to give you time to process it.” He leaned forward, scrubbing his hand over his face. "I tried to tell you tonight… "

Sam felt her cheeks flush at her wanton behavior. She had never acted that way with any other man. Not even Scott. Of course Ian wasn't any other man. With him
, she lost control. Guilt replaced her embarrassment. Here she accused him of keeping secrets when she had thrown herself at him hours earlier.

“So what exactly are you?” she asked.

As if giving them privacy, Ginger stood from the bed. Jumping to the floor she exited the room. The movement bounced Sam's calf against the pillow propping it up. The throbbing pain nearly blinded her, but she fought against it. Until her body began to tremble. Was shock setting in or was it the loss of Ginger's warm body?

Lifting a quilt off the back of his chair, Ian draped it over Sam. He tucked it around her, careful not to touch her leg.

His eyes trailed the length of her, settling on the foot of the bed. The silence dragged for what seemed like hours. She was about to break the silence when he shifted his attention back to her. Leaning forward, he rested his arms across his thighs.

“I'm a shifter."

"A shifter?" she repeated. "Like a werewolf?" For some reason, she didn't feel shocked over this revelation. She was a goddess. Why couldn't Ian be a werewolf? It's all perfectly normal.

In some really, screwed up way.

"Not exactly. We don't shift because of a moon phase. We are born this way. A shifter's bite won't turn someone."

Sam didn't miss the plural in Ian's sentence. "Wait a minute. What do you mean we?"

He blew out a breath. Rising from his chair, he paced the room. His fists clenching and unclenching. "I didn't want to tell you like this. Especially with time running out for us here." He stopped, locking his eyes with hers. "Your father is a shifter too."

"Daddy?" That was impossible. She would have known
, wouldn't she? Sensed something different about him? She pictured her father with his wire-rimmed glasses and geeky sweater vests that she always teased him about. "Why didn't he tell me? Or Jason?"

He dropped his eyes again. Not because he couldn't answer, but because he knew what the answer would mean to her. More deception.

She's had a lifetime of it.

"Wait. Jason knew?"

"Yes." Ian sat on the corner of the bed facing her, careful not to disturb her leg. "I don't have time to explain it all, but your parents recognized your birthmark. They were unsure of your abilities, so they bound your ability until they could do more research. They made Jason promise not to tell you. I was only told they wanted you to have a normal life."

"What about Ginger?" Sam shifted on the bed until black spots spun through her head. S
wallowing hard, she forced herself to continue. She needed answers, regardless of how painful they may be. "She should be dead. That cougar ripped her throat out.”

“Sam, you have to relax. Your ability to heal is hindered by the fact that you haven't fully come in to your shifter abilities. I can help you go through the change, but I want to wait until you get some of your strength back.”

“Whoa," she said, shaking her head. "I don't think I want to change. I mean not now. This isn't exactly something you dive into head first.”

With weariness settling back in, she let her head fall back against the headboard. Ian gently brushed his fingertips across her forehead. "I didn't ask for any of this. I don't want it."

“Sam, it's your birthright. As it was for the generations before you. The only way you can protect yourself is to allow the transformation to happen.” His soothing voice penetrated the haze in her mind.

Just as the ache in her head began to dull, a woman walked into the room. She looked to be in her mid twenties, with blonde hair that fell just below her chin, her face free of makeup. A feeling of familiarity settled at the back of Sam's mind. She looked from Ian to the mystery woman.

“Who is she?” She couldn't prevent jealousy from lacing her voice.

The woman looked uncomfortable as she cleared her throat.

“Hi, Sam." She took a hesitant step toward the bed. Her eyes glossy from unshed tears. "Please understand that I never meant to hurt you. It tore me apart to keep this secret from you for so long.” Her voice was so low that Sam had to strain to hear her.

“I don't understand. What's going on? Who are you?"

The woman hesitated briefly, as a tear slipped free. “I'm Ginger.”

“No.” Sam spluttered, shaking her head from side to side, her eyes squeezed shut against the pain.