Chapter 11
After two days of traveling, Cersi sat shotgun in her jeep. The trip had been uncomfortable because her arm still hurt like a motherfucker and on top of that she’d started her period the day before they’d left. Menstrual cramps and an aching shoulder had Tyson trying to double up on her pain meds, but she was trying to wean herself off because they kept putting her to sleep and she was too curious and nervous about where they were heading to want to be out. The whole previous day she and Tyson had argued about her escalated pain, but her period wasn’t something she’d wanted to discuss with Tyson. She had no plans of telling him she was menstruating, but he’d known. He told her he could scent the change in her body and that had her cringing as she wondered what that smelled like. Bad, she’d decided, it could only smell bad, but Tyson denied it. He said that a woman’s cycle called to shifter males because directly following her period she’d be fertile. He’d said that the time of a woman’s fertility and subsequent ovulation was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. He’d admitted that his animal was going to have a hard time controlling himself around her, but that they’d be to BlackLodge by then.
Now, casting furtive glances at Tyson, Cersi knew something was bothering him. Over the last two days, she’d exhausted every single question she could regarding his…ability. Listening to his story had been fascinating and terrifying all in one, but instead of getting more comfortable the more she learned, the more anxious she grew, and it was because something was churning in the air. The cab of the truck felt almost electrified right now, and Tyson was acting strange. Something was wrong. The longer they drove, the less he said, and while his silence was typical, his head twitches, jaw ticks, and occasional snarls weren’t. He only got worse once they passed a sign that welcomed them to the ‘great state of Montana’.
Looking at his hands, she saw they were in a white-knuckle stranglehold on her poor little steering wheel. He was riled up, and it was rubbing off on her. She had the urge to check her weapons, but he’d taken them all from her and hadn’t given them back. She’d nonchalantly checked the glove box when he’d finally led her to where her jeep had been parked in the hotel garage, but the knives she kept there were missing. She hated feeling so vulnerable, and unable to hold back the question any longer she demanded, “What’s wrong?”
Tyson cast her a fiery-eyed glare and then gave his attention back to the road.
“It feels like something’s wrong. You’re getting all worked up. Are we headed for trouble?” She waited and when he didn’t affirm or deny she growled, “If you’re taking me into trouble, you need to warn me!” She rubbed both palms down her jean-clad thighs. “You could give me my weapons back, or at least give me a weapon.”
“No one’s gonna hurt you. I got you.”
But she didn’t want him to have her. Hell, she didn’t even know what that even meant.
“So we are heading for trouble then?”
Tyson drew in an agitated breath and shrugged up his shoulders, bouncing his head back and forth while his neck cracked loudly. “Something feels off.”
She looked at the road ahead of them. “Is it because you're taking me to BlackLodge? Do they not like outsiders there? I mean, I understand it…”
“No,” he cut her off. “It ain’t that. Something just feels…off.”
Staring out the windshield, it was overcast and looked like it was getting late when it was really only just past noon. Cersi remembered that Montana winters were like that. There were more hours of night than day in these parts most of the year. Leaning forward, she glanced up at the sky but couldn’t tell one way or the other if something was brewing.
“Off like a storm’s coming or off like I’m gonna need to be ready to defend myself?” she asked.
“I told you, no one’s gonna touch you.”
He kept saying that, but the way he was acting had her worried.
“Just my knife. Can I at least have that?”
He gave his head one jerk, denying her request.
Frustration boiling over, she fisted her hands, “Will you please tell me what in the actual hell is going on?”
Tyson clenched the steering wheel, released it, and then clenched it again.
“Dunno,” he said glancing at his side mirror. “Something just feels…off.”
“Yeah,” she griped, “You keep saying that. Off! Like how? Should I be worried about Vesa?”
When he didn’t answer, her stomach knotted with worry. “Something’s wrong at your home?”
Still no answer and now Cersi was getting all worked up. Thoughts of Vesa in trouble had her sitting up straighter in her seat. “How far?”
“Not long,” he clipped out jerking his chin toward the windshield. Even though it was freezing, Tyson rolled down his window and leaned out a little ways. Inhaling deeply, a rolling growl rattled its way up his chest and filled the cab of the truck. When he spoke again, his voice was so animalistic that she barely registered his words. “The roads there.”
She saw what she hoped he wasn’t referencing. A thin line that could barely pass for a road wound its way up the mountainside and looked dangerous as hell.
“When we get to the base of the mountain, I’m gonna let you take the truck. You go straight up that road. Don’t stop, you hear me?”
Nervous now, she jerked her head around to look at him. “Why? What’s happening?”
“You just need to do as I say. Don’t have time to explain. Just,” he shot her a pleading look. “Just trust me.”
Nodding, she slowly stripped out of the jacket she’d been wearing. “What do I do once I get to the end of the road?”
“I’ll be up there.”
What? How? She didn’t ask, just shot him a disbelieving stare.
“I’ll be there,” he vowed. “Your weapons are under the seat, but you won’t need ‘em.” Turning, he gave her a hard look. “You hear me?”
“Yeah,” she muttered but was already bent over rifling around under the seat. “What…what do I do when I get there. Stay in the truck? Get out?”
“I’ll be there waiting, don’t worry.”
She frowned at him as she tucked her butterfly knife into her back pocket and checked her tasers. Tasers! Lot of good they were going to do if Tyson’s stories about shapeshifters were true. She was heading into unknown territory, into a place of shapeshifters, into a place where her sister was waiting. The last was what had her sucking back her fear. “How,” she asked to distract herself. “If I leave you at the base of the mountain, how you gonna meet me at the top?”
“I’m fast.”
She thought he was joking, but the look on his face told her he wasn’t.
“I gotta check the forest, make sure no one’s hanging back. I can’t let them overwhelm the pack.”
“They?”
He jerked his chin toward the mountain. “Enemies. I sensed something was off, but now I can smell ‘em. RedFangs.” He turned his face toward the window and inhaled slowly, a snarl ticking up his lip as he thundered, “And Aftermath.”
“Other wolf packs?”
He dipped his head in a nod.
“And who's gonna make sure they don’t overwhelm you?” Fear was tearing through her now because they were practically to the base of the mountain.
“Me.” Tyson looked at her, and his eyes were different. His pupils had dilated fully. That jungle green color she liked so much was now just an infinitesimal ring that was barely noticeable. “Don’t fight. No matter what. You wait for me, you hear?”
She nodded.
“Say it,” he demanded.
“Don’t fight. Wait for you.” She had no idea what she was promising, but he should have known better than that. Cersi was a fighter, always had been, and if someone up on this intimidating mountain was threatening or hurting Vesa then hell yeah she was fighting. She was gonna shoot everyone in their privates with her wimpy ass tasers, and if that didn’t work, she had no qualms about painting her butterfly knife red.
“Straight up!” Tyson commanded. “It’s important, Cersi. You need to get to BlackLodge. No stopping, no excuses. Get to camp, okay?”
“Okay!”
“Hands on the wheel!”
Cersi’s eyes rounded when he threw open his door. She realized at the last moment that he had no intentions of stopping to get out.
“Tyson!”
“Hands on the wheel, Badass.” He flashed her a smile, but this one didn’t crinkle the corners of his eyes like his real smiles did. No, this one was feral with the promise of death to those dumbass enemies that had dared come to Tyson’s mountain looking for trouble.
Grabbing the wheel, Cersi slid her ass across the bench seat. Before she could even say anything, Tyson gave her a wink, was sucked out the door, and then she was alone.
Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuck! Her jeep fishtailed on the snowy road as she slid into the driver’s seat. Palms sweating, she eyed the rearview mirror, but all she saw was snow kicked up in a blinding tornado. With no sign of Tyson, she sent up a quick prayer that he was okay and just doing that had tears filling her eyes and practically blinding her. She didn’t talk to God, hadn’t done so in longer than she could remember. The realization that for Tyson’s sake she was willing to suck up her pride had her heart constricting painfully. He shouldn’t mean that much to her, not this quickly. Not ever! She wasn’t going to ever let anyone in, no one besides Vesa anyway. She’d made herself a vow, so how in the hell had Tyson gotten past her walls? She had to blink rapidly to clear her vision and she sucked back her emotion because going into battle wasn’t the time or place for a woman’s tears. Jaw set, she concentrated on the road and drove as fast as she safely could to get her little Cherokee up the narrow mountain road.