Wild Wolf (Shifters Unbound, #6)(21)

Misty looked down. Two wolf cubs stared back up at her. Their muzzles were fuzzy, their eyes big, their ears perked. Both bared little wolf teeth in full snarls. When they grew up, those snarls would be frightening; right now, they were tiny but unceasing.

Misty had met these two before, Matt and Kyle, orphaned twins who lived in Shiftertown. They could shift into twin three-year-old boys, but they liked to stay in wolf form, better for running around and playing, they’d once explained.

“Where’d you two come from?” Misty asked.

Both cubs wagged their tails, but when Misty tried to step past them, they got in front of her again, little bodies vibrating with their growls.

“Leave them,” the hiker said. “They don’t understand.”

One of the cubs, Kyle or Matt—she could never tell them apart—turned to the hiker, planted his little feet, and howled at him. The hiker hissed and pointed his finger at Kyle . . . or Matt.

Misty didn’t like the pointing finger. She expected lightning or something to come out of it, and since this was a dream, it probably could.

Misty leapt between the hiker and the cubs. “Don’t even think about hurting them,” she shouted. “And get the hell out of my dream.”

The hiker started for her. Matt and Kyle were going insane, trying to move around her to attack. Misty put her arms out in an attempt to protect them and Graham behind them.

“Leave the Shifters alone!”

The hiss turned to a snarl, a cold, nasty sound, and then all Misty could feel was ice. It coated the flowers and killed them instantly, then started toward Graham.

Misty snatched up the cubs under her arms—these little squirming guys were heavy. She flung herself and them on top of Graham, trying to shield him from the creeping ice.

“Hey, I’m starting to like this dream,” Graham said, his voice still too weak.

Kyle and Matt wriggled out of Misty’s grasp. Tails moving fast, they licked Graham’s face. “Shit,” he said, screwing his eyes shut. “Now I’m hating it again.”

Kyle and Matt raised their heads and began growling anew. Misty looked up, and screamed.

The fountain had turned into a wave of ice, and now it was coming for them. The ice rose, frost white but with blackness in the center. It dove straight for them. Misty scooped Kyle and Matt underneath her, and stretched out on Graham’s hard body. Graham’s arms came around her, warm, strong, and caring.

The black wave washed over them, engulfing them, sucking them down into hideous darkness.

Misty screamed again and jumped awake.

Two men stood at the foot of her bed. One was Xavier. The other was Reid, tall and tight-bodied, like the hiker, but with dark hair instead of white blond. He had the same kind of eyes though, dark and mind-sucking, staring straight through her.

Misty yelped again and grabbed at the blankets. In her mad scramble, she tangled herself up, overbalanced, and rolled straight off the bed and onto the floor.





CHAPTER SEVEN





"You all right?” Xavier’s firm hand was there to help her to her feet.

Misty pushed her hair out of her face, plopped back down on the bed, and let out her breath. She was wearing only a long T-shirt, which covered her underwear, thankfully. “How do you think I am? I just woke up with two men standing over my bed.”

“Reid and I heard you screaming.”

“Had a bad dream. Sorry, I’m still a little shaky. And thirsty.” She licked the inside of her mouth.

Xav and Reid were staring at her as though they’d never seen a woman wake up from a bad dream before. Misty stood up, pushing aside the blankets, and started out of the room.


She heard Xav and Reid follow as she padded down her narrow hall and out into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator, yanked out a bottle of water, and saw it was the last. “Need to go to the store.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Xav said. “I’ll send someone shopping for you, until we’re sure it’s safe for you to go out.”

Misty regarded him sharply as she pried open the water bottle. “You said you got Flores. Who else is after me?”

Xav exchanged a look with Reid. Xav started to say, “We’re not sure . . .” but Reid cut him off.

“Tell me about the dream.”

Misty took several gulps of water, letting the wetness slosh around her mouth before she answered. “I saw that hiker, and the cave again.”

“Every detail,” Reid said.

Reid looked a lot like the hiker. Not exactly, but enough to be unnerving. His build was similar, though the shape of his face was different. The greatest similarity was his eyes. Reid’s coal dark eyes had the same kind of intense focus as the hiker’s.

Misty related the dream to the two of them, remembering more of it as she spoke. She described the pool, Graham lying hurt nearby, the hiker’s commands, the wave of ice, and the two wolf cubs trying to stop her.

Reid listened without blinking. How did anyone not blink for that long?

“Fae water,” Reid said.

Misty glanced at her bottle. “What water?”

“Spelled. One drink holds you in thrall, giving the Fae a way to find you, no matter where you are. The only thing that will slake your thirst is another drink of the water. The Fae will make you his slave, forcing you to do his bidding in exchange for another sip. But the satisfaction doesn’t last, and you will be as thirsty as before. More, even. Those enslaved end up parched and dying, no matter how much water they drink.”