Chapter 6

Zarina gazed at Tanner from where she sat in bed, her heart aching at how incredibly beautiful and peaceful he looked sleeping atop the cot on the far side of the small cabin. Early morning sunlight was just creeping through one of the small windows, enveloping Tanner in an almost heavenly glow. Which was fitting, since he was already an angel in her mind.

It took all her willpower to keep from climbing out of bed and walking over to caress his scruff-covered jaw simply so she could feel the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers without him pulling away from her.

But she didn’t move, afraid she’d wake him up and ruin the moment. Tanner needed his sleep. He’d pushed himself hard last night, spending almost two hours after they’d come back from town putting supplies away. Then he’d stayed out half the night with Spencer and the other hybrids, patrolling the woods around the prepper camp and making sure no additional trouble came their way.

Even though he’d been quiet, Tanner had woken her when he finally slipped into the cabin a few hours ago. She’d thought he might want to talk, but instead, he’d tumbled onto his cot in an exhausted slumber. She hated seeing him that way. It was like he was carrying the weight of the entire camp’s safety on his shoulders.

She sighed. At least he’d slept in the cabin with her. When Chad had told them Bryce’s house was the only place he had for the two of them to sleep, Tanner had resisted. Okay, that was an understatement. What he’d said was he preferred to sleep outside on the ground than share the small space with her. She’d known he wasn’t trying to be hurtful with his words, but they’d cut deep nonetheless.

She’d solved the problem by announcing that if Tanner was going to sleep outside, then she would, too. It might have been juvenile, but if Tanner could be stupid, then so could she. Besides, it had worked. He’d agreed to stay in the cabin with her, even if he’d slid his cot as far away from the bed as he could. He was in the same room with her. That was a big improvement as far as she was concerned.

Zarina swung her legs over the side of the bed and tiptoed over to Tanner, needing to be closer to him. She loved him so much, it made her heart ache. How could they ever be together if he kept working so hard to keep them apart? As much as she’d wanted to come here and make everything better for him, she didn’t know how that could ever be possible. She wasn’t sure where that left her. If he kept shoving her away, how much longer could she hang around and pretend she could make this work all on her own?

Tears stung her eyes, and she stifled a sob. If she didn’t get out of there, she was going to start crying and wake him up.

Grabbing her coat from where she’d tossed it on the chest at the foot of the bed, she slipped it on, glad she’d decided to sleep in her shirt and jeans last night instead of pajamas. Picking up her boots, she carefully opened the door of the cabin and left, closing it quietly behind her.

She was a little surprised she hadn’t woken Tanner up. Perhaps he was even more exhausted than she’d thought. Or maybe he was faking sleep so he wouldn’t have to face her.

Pushing that horrible thought from her mind, she put on her boots and stepped off the tiny porch, trying to remember where the main building was. In addition to serving as the camp’s meeting hall of sorts, it was also their communal kitchen and dining area. Hopefully, she’d be able to find something to eat there. She was famished. It was why she was awake at this ungodly hour in the first place.

“You’re up early,” a voice said behind her, and Zarina turned to find Lillie standing there with a basket in her hands. “I thought you and Tanner would sleep in this morning since you were out so late last night.”

Zarina didn’t mention she and Tanner weren’t actually sleeping together. It was too complicated to get into.

She smiled. “Tanner was up late last night, so I let him rest while I went looking for breakfast.”

Lillie’s mouth curved. “I know what you mean. I like getting up early to grab something to eat before everyone else is up and about. In fact, I was just about to make some breakfast. Want to join me?”

“I’d love to.” Zarina glanced at Lillie as they made their way across the camp. “Any word on Bryce and Josh?”

The girl’s face fell. “Uh-uh. Dad was out all last night talking to people in the other nearby settlements. He’s hoping someone will turn up something soon.”

Zarina hoped for the best, too, but limiting the search like Chad was doing seemed myopic to her.

The building Lillie led her into was bigger than she expected. Based on the number of benches and tables set up along one side of the interior, it looked like it could easily seat thirty or forty people.

Lillie set the basket on the counter in the kitchen, then stirred up the embers in the four wood-burning stoves at the back of the room and added some fresh wood to each. Zarina moved closer to the heat they gave off, groaning in appreciation as the big space immediately began to warm up. It seemed like she’d been cold since she’d gotten to Washington State. The aroma of fresh coffee brewing on the stove didn’t hurt, either.

“You’re not used to spending so much time outdoors, are you?” Lillie asked with a laugh as she flipped open the basket she’d been carrying, revealing a large pile of eggs.

Zarina blinked. They had chickens there? She hadn’t heard a peep from them since she’d arrived. The idea of eating eggs for breakfast made her mouth water. She’d love to help Lillie cook, but it had been a long time since she’d made anything over an old-fashioned wood-burning stove.

“Is it that obvious?” Zarina asked.

Lillie smiled over her shoulder as she walked over to the counter. “Just a little.”

“Believe it or not, I actually grew up on a farm. It was nothing like this, though,” Zarina admitted. “How about you? Have you lived here long?”

Lillie cracked half a dozen eggs into a glass bowl and beat them vigorously with a whisk. “About five years. Since I was fourteen. When my mom passed away, my dad decided to sell everything we had and move out here from Montana to start up the camp. I’ve been here ever since.”

“I’m sorry about your mom,” Zarina said.

Lillie’s eyes filled with sadness. “Thanks.”

“Moving here must have been quite a change,” Zarina said.

The girl shrugged as she sliced mushrooms and added them to the eggs. “I didn’t want to come here at first, that’s true. But looking back on it now, I realize why Dad did it.” She picked up a block of cheese and deftly grated a small amount. “I didn’t handle my mom’s death very well and was heading down a destructive path. My dad had already been a prepper back in Montana, so trading in our farm there for this camp wasn’t really that much of a change. Besides the fact that we don’t have TV or internet.” Her lips curved slightly. “But I don’t mind missing those things, because if we hadn’t come here, I would never have met Spencer.”

If Zarina had any doubt the girl was in love with the hybrid, she didn’t now. It was obvious from the look in Lillie’s eyes when she said the man’s name.

“What does your father think of you and Spencer?” Zarina asked.

Lillie placed two thick slices of bread on a cooking sheet and slipped it into the side compartment of the closest stove, then poured the eggs into the cast-iron skillet already sitting on top.

“He absolutely hates it,” she said. “He thinks Spencer is bad for me, that he’s dangerous, and that I could do so much better.”

Zarina took two plates from the open cabinets above the counter. “Silverware?” she asked.

“Top drawer on your right,” Lillie said.

Zarina took out two sets of forks and knives, then set the table nearest to them. “Is he right? Is Spencer bad for you? More importantly, is he dangerous?”

Lillie frowned as she lifted the heavy pan and brought it over to the table. She spooned the scrambled eggs onto the plates in silence, then placed the pan on the counter. With practiced ease, she pulled the toast out and brought that over to the table, too.

Pouring two mugs of coffee from the pot on the stove, she placed one in front of Zarina, then sat down across from her. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she pointed at the scar on her neck. “This was totally my fault. Spencer and I have had a special connection since the day we met, and I’ve always felt safe around him even when his control is at its worst. But then I made the mistake of slipping into his cabin and trying to wake him up from a nightmare. It was a stupid thing to do. I knew better. But I couldn’t stand to hear him shouting in fear. It tore me apart.”

Zarina spread butter on the toast. She’d heard Tanner do the same more times than she could count. Lillie was right. It was hard to listen to. “What happened?”

Lillie ate a forkful of eggs before answering. “Exactly what you’d expect from startling anyone armed with claws out of a night terror. Spencer lashed out without even knowing I was there. The minute I cried out in pain, it immediately pulled him out of the dream. Or maybe it was just the scent of my blood. Either way, he snapped out of his rage. He almost lost his mind when he realized he’d hurt me. I swear, for a second, I was worried he was going to kill himself when he saw how bad it was. But instead, he picked me up and carried me to Lorraine’s cabin. She fixed me up just fine.”

Looking at the scars, Zarina reminded herself to never let Lorraine sew a tear in her clothes. The woman had obviously focused on the practical aspects of keeping Lillie alive, not the cosmetic ones.

Lillie shrugged and stared down at her plate. “We don’t have a lot of mirrors around here, so I barely think about them, but I know they bother Spencer. To him, they’re a constant reminder of how dangerous he is and why we shouldn’t be together. Which is silly. To me, these scars are a sign of how much our love can endure. Not that I expect Spencer to understand that of course, since he’s a guy.”

Zarina couldn’t help but smile. “Lillie, you might not know it, but you are wise beyond your years. Can I assume your father doesn’t share your view on the matter?”

She let out a snort. “Dad went ballistic. He wanted to toss Spencer and his friends out on their butts. I told Dad that if he did, I’d leave with Spencer. My dad knew I’d do it, too, so he backed off.”

Zarina was stunned by how brave and strong Lillie was. She wasn’t sure she could have stood up to her father over something like this at the girl’s age.

“You must love Spencer very much,” she said softly.

Lillie nodded, her mouth curving again. “I know it’s crazy to fall for a guy with Spencer’s issues. He’d be the first one to tell you that between his PTSD from the years he spent in the army and what those crazy doctors did to him, he’s dealing with a lot of crap. But love doesn’t care about a person’s past or what issues they have. When you meet the person you’re meant to be with, nothing else matters.”

Zarina silently agreed. She wished Tanner would take a page out of Spencer’s book and stop pushing her away. Or maybe she was the one who needed to be more like Lillie. Zarina had just met her and could already tell the girl was a force of nature.

She sipped her coffee, studying Lillie over the rim. “So, how did Spencer and the other hybrids end up in your camp?”

Lillie eyed her in confusion, quickly finishing the bite of toast she’d just taken. “Hybrids? What’s that?”

Of course. Stutmeir’s doctors hadn’t started using that term until after Tanner had survived the first dose of the serum. That was after Spencer and the others had already supposedly died.

“It’s a term the doctors who experimented on Spencer and Tanner came up with,” Zarina explained. “They used it to describe a person who’s half human, half animal.”

Lillie blinked. “So you really were there in that ski lodge with those lunatics who wanted to turn humans into monsters?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Zarina pushed her scrambled eggs around on the plate with her fork. “But like Tanner said, I wasn’t there because I wanted to be. The man who employed the doctors kidnapped me from my apartment in Moscow a few months before and forced me to help them come up with a drug to create hybrids.” Even now, she shuddered at the memory. “I tried everything I could to slow down and sabotage their work, but it didn’t help. I was able to get Tanner out, but I couldn’t do the same for Spencer and the others. I was sure they’d died.”

Lillie nibbled on her toast. “The guys don’t talk much about what happened in the lodge, but from what little they have told me, the doctors must have thought they were dead, too. They took their bodies into the woods and left them in shallow graves, probably thinking some wild animals would make everything disappear. But Spencer woke up and dragged his friends to a cave about a mile from where they’d been dumped.” She picked up her coffee mug and wrapped both hands around it. “That’s where Burt found them last January. It was in the middle of a blizzard, and they were freezing and starving to death. They’d been surviving on whatever food they could forage, too scared to go down into any of the nearby towns for food and shelter because they were worried they’d lose control and hurt someone. When Burt brought them back here, a lot of people in the camp were scared of them at first, but that changed as soon as Spencer and the other guys proved they could be trusted. My falling in love with Spencer probably helped a little with that, I guess.”

Zarina smiled. “Probably so.”

She and Lillie continued to talk while they ate, with Zarina telling her about hybrids, shifters, and Tanner, while Lillie told her how Spencer and the others helped out around the camp and worked to control their aggressive behaviors. Maybe it was simply because they’d both fallen in love with hybrids, but Zarina found it incredibly easy to talk to the girl despite the fact that they came from completely different backgrounds.

“Are you and Tanner getting married?” Lillie asked, setting her fork and knife on her empty plate and pushing it aside. “You can tell me to back off if it’s none of my business, but after seeing how he defended you yesterday, not to mention the look you get on your face every time you say his name, I’m figuring the two of you have been together for a while.” She shrugged. “I can’t help thinking if the two of you can make it work, then Spencer and I might, too.”

Zarina hesitated, hating to dash the girl’s hopes. But she couldn’t lie.

“No, we’re not getting married.” Tears stung her eyes as she suddenly realized marrying Tanner had been a dream buried deep in her heart all along. She swallowed hard and blinked them back. “Tanner and I care about each other, but in our case, it’s not enough to overcome the obstacles life throws in front of you.”

Lillie set her mug down on the table with a frown. “Sure it is.”

Zarina gave her a sad smile. “I wish it could be. But like Spencer, Tanner is constantly worried about hurting me or someone else who’s important to him. That’s why he’s been living out here on his own for the past two months. He thinks that’s the only way to keep other people safe.”

Lillie let out a sound of frustration. “What is it with guys? Spencer has said the exact same thing to me a dozen times. He thinks it’d be better for everyone if he goes up to Alaska and lives alone in the wilderness. Are all men born with that macho crap in their DNA?”

Zarina laughed. “Probably. The worst part is that it doesn’t have to be that way. I came out here with an antiserum that will make him human again, but Tanner won’t even consider taking it. He’s so damn stubborn, it drives me insane.”

Lillie’s eyes widened. “You have a cure for this hybrid thing? Would it work on Spencer?”

Zarina considered that. She hadn’t thought about it until now, but there was no reason it wouldn’t. “Almost certainly. I developed the antiserum specifically for Tanner’s type of hybrid DNA. Since Spencer and the others were created using the same hybrid serum, it should work on them, too.”

Excitement danced in Lillie’s eyes. “Taking the drug wouldn’t be dangerous, would it? There wouldn’t be any side effects, right?”

Zarina sighed. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple. “It won’t kill him or cause any significant damage. If there was any chance of that, I’d never consider giving it to Tanner. But Lillie, this drug is designed to make drastic changes to a hybrid’s DNA to reset their body back to what it once was. There’s a price to pay for that.”

“What kind of price?” Lillie whispered hesitantly, like she was afraid to hear the answer.

“There could be slight physical and personality changes,” Zarina said. “He’d probably look a little different, maybe shorter and less muscular. His voice and eye color could change. Maybe his hair color, too.”

She nodded. “That’s not so bad.”

No, but there were other possible side effects that might be. Ones she didn’t want to so much as consider in Tanner’s case. But she’d deal with them if it meant helping him.

“Lillie, there’s a small chance Spencer might not remember certain things, maybe not even you. You’d have to start your relationship all over.”

The girl swallowed hard but then took a breath. “Is that all of it?”

“I wish it were,” Zarina said sadly. “I’m not sure if Spencer can father children now that he’s a hybrid, but after taking the antiserum, there’s a very good chance he won’t be able to. I didn’t test the antiserum for that possibility, but everything I know about medicine makes me think the back and forth changes to his DNA are probably going to be too extreme to ever let that happen.”

Lillie’s eyes filled with tears. “I could deal with losing the parts of what make him the Spencer I know, but not the part about him being unable to have kids. He comes from a big family and talks about having a family of his own all the time. I couldn’t let him give that up. I’d rather he stay like he is.”

“Do you think he’d feel the same?” Zarina asked gently.

The door opened, and a group of preppers walked in before Lillie could answer. The girl quickly wiped the tears away and gave them a wave as they headed over to the stoves to make breakfast. Then she turned her attention back to Zarina.

“I don’t know. Spencer would take any risk if he thought it might change him back to what he used to be, especially if he thought it would keep me safe.” She reached across the table to take Zarina’s hand. “Please don’t mention the antiserum to him. Let me tell him.”

“I will,” Zarina assured her. “I promise.”

That seemed to satisfy Lillie. The girl released her hand and sat back with a sigh. “Is that why Tanner won’t take it? Because he knows about the side effects?”

Zarina shook her head. “No. I never got the chance to get into that level of detail with him. He said he wouldn’t take it the moment I brought it up. I’m sure he has his reasons, but he won’t tell me what they are. In fact, he doesn’t tell me much of anything. Instead, he keeps saying he needs to stay as far away from me as he can, and it’s infuriating as hell.”

Lillie rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. Please tell me he doesn’t pull the same crap Spencer does and use that line when you tell him you love him.”

“Actually, I haven’t told him,” Zarina admitted.

“But you love him, right?”

“More than anything. But I’ve always thought a conversation like that should wait until we’re…I don’t know…closer, I guess you’d say. Why tell someone you love him if he isn’t ready to hear it?”

“Because Tanner is a guy,” Lillie said as if that explained everything. “Besides, sometimes you might have to both lead the horse to the water and make him drink.”

Zarina had absolutely no idea what that meant. Maybe it was an American thing. “I don’t understand.”

Lillie sighed, and for a moment, it seemed the nineteen-year-old girl was years beyond Zarina in both age and wisdom.

“I mean that if you want to be in Tanner’s life, you might need to put yourself in it regardless of what he says.”

* * *

“So, how did you stumble across these preppers in the first place?” Zarina asked as she pulled the vial of antiserum out of her backpack to check on it. “Did you smell Spencer and the other hybrids?”

Tanner momentarily turned his attention away from the ax in his hand and the wood he was chopping, glancing suspiciously at the vial in her hand. They were on the edge of the camp, and while they weren’t exactly alone considering there was a whole group of people nearby, she wasn’t worried about anyone overhearing them. Well, maybe except for Spencer and the other hybrids, but they were off patrolling the woods.

“Yeah,” Tanner said. “I picked up their scent within the first couple of days of getting here. At first, I thought I was having some kind of olfactory flashback, but I figured out soon enough it was real. It wasn’t difficult to track them down after that.”

From where she sat on a nearby tree stump, Zarina watched Tanner position a big log on its end a few feet in front of him, turning it this way and that like he was a diamond cutter looking for that one perfect place to strike. She waited for him to tell her the rest of the story she’d been curious about hearing since seeing the hybrids yesterday, but he seemed to be done.

“Weren’t you stunned when you realized the men who’d gone through the hybrid experiments with you were still alive?” she prompted.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, but then he shrugged. “I guess so. I’d figured I was the only one who’d made it out of those labs. Finding out I was wrong was a relief in a way.”

She was about to ask him what he meant by that, but he gestured to the vial in her hand. “You planning on injecting that stuff into a bear or something?”

Zarina sighed, giving up on the idea of digging deeper. It was obvious this particular conversation was finished. She flipped the vial’s protective case over in her hands, looking for signs of damage.

“No, I’m not injecting it into any bears,” she told him after she was satisfied it was completely intact. “It was designed around the specific serum used on you and tailored for your particular hybrid variant. It would have no effect on a bear at all. Or any other animal for that matter.”

Tanner grunted “That’s good, I guess.” He turned his attention back to the ax in his hand and the big log standing on its end in front of him. “Not that it matters, since I’m not taking it.”

“I know,” she said. “You’ve already mentioned that to me several times.”

Tanner’s jaw twitched a little, like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he bounced the ax in his hands a few times, then swung it violently over his head, slamming it into the log in front of him and splitting it neatly in two. He then moved over to the next log he’d already set up and whacked that one in half, too, before turning his attention to the next, and the next, and the next. After he split all of them, he patiently collected up the pieces, brought them back to the center of the flat piece of ground he’d been working on, and set them up to do it all over again. He’d been doing this same thing for over an hour like he was some kind of machine.

Zarina didn’t say anything, either. Mostly because she was too busy eyeing Tanner’s bare chest and enjoying the way his sweat-covered muscles flexed and strained in the cool mountain air as he worked. She’d seen him without his shirt plenty of times before, but she still found herself transfixed at the sight of his broad shoulders, thick pecs, bulging biceps, and rippling abs. Even that little trail of dark-gold hair that led from his belly button down into his jeans was mesmerizing.

When she’d come out here with him to the far end of the camp where the firewood supply was stacked up as tall as she was, it had been with the idea of getting Tanner alone for a serious conversation. Regardless of whether anyone could overhear or not, she still would have preferred it to be somewhere more private, but Tanner was worried about getting too far from the camp in case those jerks with the guns came back.

It wasn’t a perfect place, but it would do.

She’d come here intending to follow Lillie’s advice and ask him why he wouldn’t consider taking the antiserum. If that conversation went well, maybe they could talk openly about how they felt about one another, too. But instead of talking, Zarina had spent more time gazing at him like she was now. She tried to tell herself it was to make sure the injuries he’d gotten yesterday in the fight with the hybrids had healed properly, but in truth, she was ogling him because he was so damn hot. It was almost embarrassing to be so discombobulated at the sight of his bare chest that she couldn’t think straight, but she was powerless. It was like his body had been designed specifically to enthrall her.

Some of her reticence also had to do with the fact that Tanner wasn’t simply against the idea of taking the antiserum. He seemed to completely hate the idea that it was even out here in the woods with him. When she had pulled out the case, he’d looked at her like he thought she was going to yank it out and jab the syringe in his neck when he wasn’t looking.

Although, if she was being honest, the biggest reason she hadn’t brought up the subject of the antiserum—or the fact that she loved him—was because she was a big chicken and not nearly as bold as Lillie apparently was.

Sighing, she popped open the plastic protective case around the vial and studied the auto-injector nestled inside. She sagged with relief. The case for the serum was rugged and well built, but her pack had been jostled around a lot over the past couple of days, so she’d been a little worried. The antiserum had taken her a year and a half to create. To say it was valuable was an understatement.

Thankfully, the auto-injector was fine. She’d been worried it might have been accidentally triggered or started to leak. Not that either of those things was likely, but then again, she hadn’t exactly planned to carry the thing around with her for so long. She thought she’d administer it to Tanner the moment she found him. She had multiple degrees in everything from genetics to medicine, and she still didn’t understand the male half of the species.

“Shouldn’t that thing be kept in a refrigerator?” Tanner asked as he wedged the ax head out of a gnarled log that didn’t seem to want to let the blade go.

He asked the question so casually, she’d almost think he didn’t care about the answer one way or the other, but the look in his eyes made her think he was more concerned about the drug than he let on.

“No, because it’s not a live vaccine,” she explained patiently. “It isn’t protein based at all, for that matter. I constructed it using catalytic RNA molecules so it would be stable for longer periods of time at ambient temperatures. It’s less likely to break down in your body as well.”

“I don’t really know what any of that means,” he murmured. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m still not taking it.”

She bit her tongue to keep from saying something she’d regret and put the case back in her pack. She wanted to ask Tanner what the hell his problem was, but that would only play into his hand. If the conversation became combative, she’d lose the battle before it got started.

So instead, she took a deep breath and attempted to see this situation from his perspective, trying to understand why he was turning his back on something like this. She thought yesterday’s fight with the other hybrids had demonstrated better than anything why he couldn’t keep acting like he could hide from the animal inside.

Some of his reluctance probably had to do with the fact that he didn’t want to get his hopes up only to have them dashed if the antidote didn’t work. She could understand that. She’d be the first to admit she’d been working on this cure for a long time without success. But if that was the reason, why couldn’t he simply tell her that? Then she could discuss all the medical possibilities and probabilities. She might not understand men, but science? That she got.

“Have you tested it on anyone else?” Tanner asked suddenly. “Any other hybrid, I mean? Like Minka or Diaz?”

Zarina was so surprised by the question that all she could do was stare at him. A minute ago, he’d told her he wasn’t interested in the antidote. Now, he wanted to know if she’d tested it on the feline hybrid, Minka Pajari, and the Special Forces soldier, Carlos Diaz.

“No. I haven’t tested the antiserum on anyone else,” she said after a moment. “I designed it specifically for the first-generation hybrids Stutmeir made, like you. It wouldn’t work on Minka, because she’s a third-generation hybrid made from Ivy’s DNA, and it wouldn’t work on Diaz, because he’s a natural-born shifter.”

Tanner did a double take. “Diaz is a shifter? I thought he turned into a hybrid because he’d been bitten by one.”

Zarina frowned. Had Tanner forgotten the last time he’d seen Diaz? It had been the night the hybrids had attacked the DCO complex. Tanner had completely lost control and nearly killed the Special Forces soldier. Diaz had survived, but only because he was a shifter. Tanner had almost certainly smelled Diaz and recognized him for what he was.

Then again, maybe his hybrid episodes were like an alcoholic having a blackout when almost all the memories were lost. Zarina wasn’t sure which would be worse, knowing you’d lost control and having no memory of it, or losing control and remembering every horrible detail.

She opened her mouth to ask what he remembered of that night but then thought better of it. He’d obviously remembered enough to force him to go on the run. There was no reason to make him relive events he’d likely prefer to forget.

“I told Diaz a dozen times it wasn’t possible for a person to become a hybrid from a bite, so I have no idea why he insisted he was one,” she said instead. “He’s a coyote shifter. A late bloomer, but still a full shifter.”

“A late bloomer?” Tanner grunted. “I know he’s a small guy, but I had no idea he was still waiting to go through puberty.”

“Very funny.” She made a face. “That’s not the kind of late bloomer I’m talking about. It’s something I’ve learned since you left. It turns out that being a shifter is a bit more complex than we originally thought. There are a lot more people in the world with shifter DNA in their system than we ever imagined, maybe as much as one percent of the population. For most people, that DNA stays in a dormant state for their entire lives, but for a very small number, the chemicals released into the body during puberty activate the dormant gene and turn them into shifters. In Diaz’s case, for some reason, the change occurred really, really late in his male growth cycle instead of early on in the process.”

“Huh.” Tanner shook his head. “Diaz must be disappointed. He was all in on the theory that the bite was what changed him.”

“You have no idea,” she muttered. “As much as he wants to blame the hybrid bite for changing him, in reality, it was pure coincidence that his body decided to go through the change at that point.”

Tanner muttered something under his breath she didn’t quite catch. “I don’t know what he’s complaining about. Better to have shifter DNA in your blood than hybrid. God knows I’d rather be a shifter.”

Zarina chewed on her lip. “Actually, in a way, you are.”

He slammed the blade of the ax into the top of the next log and turned to look at her, his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean by that?”

“That’s something else I learned after you left,” she told him. “It also explains why some people made it through the various hybrid experiments while others didn’t. It turns out having dormant shifter DNA in your blood is essential to surviving the hybrid serum.”

“You mean…” His voice trailed off.

She nodded. “Yes, you have shifter DNA. So do Minka and Sage. Not enough to start the change on its own, but enough that you all survived the hybrid serum when the drug killed so many others.”

That suddenly made Zarina wonder about Spencer and the other hybrids at the prepper camp. None of them had possessed a discernible pulse when they’d been dragged out of the lodge. But the more she thought about it, the less surprised she was that their bodies had somehow revived themselves. If certain people were already genetically predisposed to surviving the hybrid process, was it that crazy to believe they’d be able to put themselves into some kind of coma-like stasis to help them live through the worst of the changes? It was an interesting hypothesis for sure, and one she’d love to study.

Zarina’s big reveal seemed to have put Tanner into a thoughtful mood, because he went back to splitting logs, his expression showing he was struggling with something. She let him think for a while but then stood up and moved closer. He stopped what he was doing, lowering the ax to let it hang down at his side.

“Sage is thinking about taking the antiserum,” she said softly.

Maybe if he knew another hybrid—a friend—would take it, he might be willing to do the same.

Tanner looked at her in surprise. “I thought you said it would only work on me?”

Zarina shook her head. “I said it would only work on first-generation hybrids like you. Technically, Sage is third generation like Minka, but the serum that created her was developed a few months after you were turned. It might have shifter DNA in it instead of an animal’s, but it’s very similar to what they used on you. In some ways, she has more in common with you than Minka. I’ll still have to tweak the formulation a bit, but it shouldn’t take me too long.”

Tanner didn’t say anything for a long time, his eyes filling with pain. “The relaxation and visualization techniques I taught Sage were finally starting to help. I never thought about her having a setback after I left.”

“Actually, she’s doing okay,” Zarina said. “Landon was able to get Derek Mickens transferred to the DCO from Special Forces temporarily.”

Derek had been the one who’d rescued Sage from the hellhole where she’d been captive all those months ago, and they’d developed a connection. He was the only one who could seem to calm her inner hybrid when she lost control.

Tanner looked confused. “If she’s doing well, why take the antiserum?”

“Because Sage doesn’t want to live her entire life in a locked room on the DCO complex. She’s come to the realization that she might be able to have the life she used to have before all this happened. If she takes the drug I’m offering.”

That seemed to take him aback. “When is she going to do it?”

“Not right away,” Zarina said. “She still wants to see if she can learn to control her feline side on her own. I’ll also need time to modify the structure of the drug to perfectly match her hybrid breed and DNA.”

Tanner stared out into the surrounding forest, his expression thoughtful.

Zarina moved around in front of him, trying to catch his eye. “Look, I’m not saying you should take the antidote because Sage might.” Actually, that’s exactly what she’d been trying to do. “It’s just that I’ve learned a lot about shifters and hybrids since you left. Rebecca Brannon is extremely interested in supporting my research and has given me a nearly unlimited budget. Between the money and the countless hours I spent in my lab for the past two months, I’ve pushed the science of shifter and hybrid DNA miles beyond where it was. All so I could come up with an antidote for you. And I’ve done it. The drug I developed is designed to counteract the effects of the hybrid serum used on you. I swear it will work, Tanner. With everything in me, I swear it will work.”

She knew now was the time to mention the less-than-thrilling side effects of the antiserum, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Those details could wait until later, when Tanner let the idea of taking it seep in a little.

He turned to gaze at her intently, and for a moment, she thought he might actually agree, but then he shook his head. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Zarina, I really do. But I’m not going to take the drug.”

It was all Zarina could do not to scream in frustration. What the hell was wrong with him? She’d never wanted to smack someone so much in her life. But it wasn’t in her to hurt anyone, especially Tanner. So instead, she yanked the ax out of the log with both hands and swung it at the piece of wood in an awkward attempt that took a lot more effort than she would have thought. It didn’t land with nearly enough force to split the log and ended up getting stuck. It took her a few seconds to get it out, which only frustrated her more. But once she had the blade out, she attacked the wood again, swinging even harder this time. It still didn’t split, but it did get a crack in it. That was a start.

It took her five minutes to finally get the log split, and by the time she did, her arms were numb with fatigue. Crap. Tanner had made it look so easy. But even as tough as it was, it felt good to do something physical and take her pent-up frustrations out on an inanimate object.

She’d just shifted her focus to the next log in the line when she realized Tanner was standing there, his muscular arms crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face.

“What?” she demanded. If he made a crack about her swinging the heavy ax like a girl, she was going to throw it at him.

Tanner shrugged. “Nothing. It’s just while I’ve always thought of you as a city girl, it never struck me until now how completely out of your element you are here in the wilderness. This outdoor living thing really isn’t for you, is it?”

She knew Tanner was likely trying to distract her from the previous topic of conversation. While it was irritating as crap, there wasn’t much she could do about it. But just because he wasn’t ready to deal with the subject didn’t mean she had to give up. One way or the other, she was going to figure out what was going on in Tanner’s head.

“Ha! Shows what you know,” she said as she got lined up to aim the ax at the second log. “I grew up on a farm. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything like this. It takes a little while to get back into the swing of things.”

As if to emphasize her point, she swung the ax, trying her best to bring it straight down into the center of the wood. The result was a very pleasing-sounding thud as the blade bit in deep and the log split cleanly in half. She was so excited, she almost started dancing.

“See?” She gave him a smile. “Like that.”

Tanner stared at her, a dumbfounded look on his face. “Wait. What? You grew up on a farm?”

She winced as she realized she’d never told him about that part of her life. “So, I guess I never mentioned that?”

“No, you didn’t. In fact, in all the time we’ve known each other, I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned your family. I got the feeling it was a touchy subject, so I stayed away from it.”

“I’m kind of private when it comes to my family.” She shook her head. “It’s complicated.”

He shrugged. “Family usually is.”

She silently agreed as she lined up another log. But instead of taking a swing at it, she stared down at the big piece of wood thoughtfully.

“I grew up in a rural area about three hundred kilometers south of Moscow near the Ukrainian border,” she said quietly. “During the day, my dad worked in a factory building trucks and tractors, then in the evening, he helped my mom and me on our five-acre farm. We grew mostly potatoes, along with some other vegetables when the season was right. I helped with all the planting and harvesting when I was younger, but that trailed off when I started secondary school, which is when I began to get serious about my science classes.” She rested the ax against the log and walked over to Tanner, shoving her hands in the pockets of her coat. “My parents didn’t understand most of the stuff I was learning and used to joke that maybe I’d been switched at birth, since neither of them had ever been good at academics. But they recognized that a career in science would be a way for me to get out of the hard life they’d grown up living, so they made sure I dedicated my time to studying instead of helping out on the farm. I felt bad about that, but it was what they wanted. They didn’t even complain when I went off to the university in Moscow right after I finished school.”

“Huh,” Tanner said. “You seriously grew up on a potato farm? I did not see that coming. I had visions of you sitting around with your parents at breakfast discussing the periodic table and the theory of relativity. I can’t believe you never mentioned the farm thing to me.”

She gave him a sheepish look. “This is going to sound horrible, but I spent a lot of years feeling embarrassed about where I came from. Most of the other students I studied with at the Lomonosov University in Moscow were more sophisticated than I was. I grew up a potato farmer with parents who never made it beyond the ninth grade. I guess I got used to not talking about my family even after I got away from that world.”

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching out to brush some hair that had come loose from its ponytail back from her face. “It’s nothing to beat yourself up about. You wouldn’t be the first person to hide your parents’ background from your friends. The important thing is you love them, and they know it. Do you get to see them very often?”

She smiled. Sometimes, Tanner could say stuff so perfect, it was hard to believe that other times, he could be such a pain in the butt. “I used to see them all the time, but not as much over the past few years. My work back in Moscow consumed all my time in the months before Stutmeir’s goons grabbed me. I was so bad about calling my parents that they never even realized I’d been kidnapped. And when I did call after coming to the DCO, they simply assumed I’d moved to the United States to further my genetic research. I send them money all the time, trying to make things easier on them, but I know they’d rather I come home for a visit.”

Tanner nodded. “You should. The DCO could help you get a flight home. In fact, you could probably leave straight from here.”

Zarina fought the urge to roll her eyes. She didn’t know who he thought he was fooling. He was suggesting she visit her parents because he wanted to get rid of her. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t hurt a little, but she knew he wasn’t trying to be mean. Knowing him, he thought he was keeping her safe.

Well, she wasn’t going to let him push her away, and she definitely wasn’t leaving him out here by himself, even if that was what he wanted. If that meant living through the winter with him in this prepper camp, badgering him about taking her hybrid antiserum, she was prepared to do it. She’d freeze to death, but she’d do it.

“I’m sure you’re right,” she said with a smile. “But because it’s been so long since I’ve seen Mom and Dad, I’m sure another couple of months won’t matter. I think I’ll just stay here with you for now.”

Tanner’s jaw clenched, but other than that, he gave little sign her words had bothered him. Instead, he walked over and started lining up more logs to split, as if he planned to spend the entire day doing it. Knowing him, he probably did.

“What about your family?” she asked when the silence began to stretch out to the point of discomfort. “Cam said your mother hasn’t changed your room since you joined the army, which means they must still live in Seattle, right?”

“Olympic Hills, actually.” Tanner turned his attention from the logs he still needed to split to stacking the wood he already had, aligning the pieces almost like a jigsaw puzzle so the wall of firewood was straight and stable. “It’s the northernmost part of Seattle.”

From the conversation with Cam yesterday, it was obvious Tanner hadn’t been in contact with his family since he’d left three years ago. And he’d burned all his bridges behind him when he walked out. Something told her whatever had driven him away from them was still playing a major role in his life now.

“When we were at the diner with Cam, you mentioned something happened with your dad. I’m guessing that would have been right around the time you got out of the army,” she said, suddenly desperate to keep him talking. “Did he have a problem with you getting out? Is that why you left and came to live out here?”

Zarina held her breath, waiting for Tanner to turn and walk away because she’d trespassed into forbidden territory. But he simply shook his head, his expression introspective. “No. Dad was fine with me getting out. And Mom was frigging thrilled.”

“But?” she prompted when he didn’t say more.

He shrugged, almost looking at a loss as to what he wanted to say. That was hard for her to see. Regardless of the whole hybrid thing, Tanner was a smart, confident man. Seeing him unsure of himself was something new for her.

“But things didn’t work out the way anyone planned, and I realized being around my family was a really bad idea,” he finally said. “That’s why I left.”

Zarina cursed silently. Tanner was like a broken record, using the same excuse to turn his back on his family as he did with her and his friends at the DCO, that he was going to make a mistake and hurt them. But this stuff with his family had been long before he’d been turned into a hybrid. So what had him running so scared back then?

She wasn’t sure how to even get into it with him, until something Tanner had said to Ryan popped into her head. Something that scared the crap out of her far more than his hybrid-induced rages.

“When did all this start?” she asked softly. “This need to get away from people?” When he didn’t answer, she followed her instincts and the horrible suspicion that had started creeping into her mind. “Did it have to do with why you got out of the army and why you’re on VA disability?”

Tanner stood there, staring at nothing, his blue eyes looking so lost and confused, it nearly tore her heart out to see it.

She knew she should probably back off and wait until he was ready to talk, but she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t stand there and act like she didn’t see the pain etched clearly on his face.

She wanted more than anything to yank him into her arms and squeeze him until everything was better. But she knew that wasn’t how it worked.

So instead, she lifted her fingers to his strong jaw and gently turned his face to hers. “Tanner, why won’t you talk to me about this? I want so much to be able to help you, but I can’t do that if you won’t even talk to me.”

“This isn’t something I can talk about.” He gazed down at her with eyes filled with so much sorrow that it took her breath away. “Sometimes, there just aren’t words to explain what’s happening.”

Zarina felt the tears she’d been holding back slide down her cheeks, and she opened her mouth, ready to beg if she had to. Anything, as long as he would let her help him. He stopped her with a single tormented glance.

“I can’t talk about this stuff, but maybe I can show you,” he said, his voice so low, she had to strain to hear it. “Maybe then you’ll understand.”

Turning, he walked over to the stack of firewood and grabbed his T-shirt from where he’d left it earlier, pulling it on as he walked away. Zarina grabbed her pack and joined him, ready to follow him anywhere. She thought for a moment that they were heading back to their cabin, that maybe he was going to show her a picture or memento to explain all this. But instead, he headed into the forest.

“Where are we going?” she asked, hurrying to catch up with him. “I thought you said we needed to stay close to camp.”

He shrugged his broad shoulders, his long strides covering more ground than she could ever hope to. “We won’t be gone very long. The camp will be safe enough until we get back.”

“Back from where?” she said, running to keep up. “Tanner, where are we going?”

“To the place where I died.”