Page 47 of Sweeter Than Honey
He stumbled to the house, feeling stronger as he stood to his full height. Desi followed him inside. “Yeah, about Dax. Uh, Allie is in labor.”
“What?” Jett looked back at his brother. His heart leapt with a moment of joy. “She is? Fuck.”
“Get dressed. I’ll make the calls.”
Each step brought him more strength as he stormed to the laundry room and pulled clothes from a basket, not caring if they were clean or dirty. Parts of him were still mixed up. The knuckles on the backs of his hands were huge, making it hard to effectively move his fingers. His arms and legs were covered in thick brown fur. His canine teeth hadn’t fully receded and hung halfway down in his mouth. No wonder it felt strange when he spoke. Cramming his legs into jeans, he slipped on tee shirt over his wet torso and smoothed back his hair.
God, his heart was pounding so fast. Cara was gone. So much time had passed, there was no telling how far her captors had taken her by now. How could his shift fail him like that?
Running a hand through his hair, he suppressed a bloom of rage. His shift hadn’t failed him.
He’d failed his bear.
All the hours he’d spent in his bear form running away from his grief, from his life, had led to this. He knew it was self-destructive, but he’d done it anyway because running free in the woods was the only thing that helped him stop remembering what he’d lost. It was easier to run away from it than it was to face it.
The thing was, when he did allow himself moments of quiet to reflect on his life, he was able to find some peace with it. The ability to cope was there, almost as if his brain and heart had started the process without any cognizant thought on his part. His soul wanted to heal, so it sutured and bandaged and dressed the wounds, quietly and with intention. And then it sat back and waited for him to catch up.
He'd never cared to catch up. Until Cara.
His words to her had been too harsh, too filled with his own self-loathing. Maybe he was the only one worried about being half a man. But what would Cara think? How would she feel about never having his child, or having a piece of his soul mingled with her own? She’d said that love didn’t need those things.
Could she really mean it?
“Jett, dad and the others are on their way. Look, you know you can’t shift again, right?”
He hadn’t thought that far ahead, but yes. He knew. Moving past his brother, he jammed his feet into knee-high boots with steel toes.
“I don’t need to shift to rip them to shreds.”
“Okay, well, I still have no idea what we’re fighting for, but I haven’t shifted in like two months and I’m ready, bro. So ready. You point me in the right direction, and I’ll do all the shredding you want.”
Jett pulled his baby brother into a massive hug, enveloping him completely in his arms. He hadn’t seen Desi in over four years. “I missed you.”
Desi hugged him back, and then the two let go of each other and turned as if nothing had happened.
“There are multiple bear scents here and I don’t recognize any of them as Estes shifters,” Desi pointed out. “One vehicle. And three blood scents. Two here.” He pointed to where tire tracks imprinted the driveway from being parked. Sure enough, there were droplets of blood, and a few feet away, a small pool. Jett assessed the scent hanging in the air.
“And this.” Desi moved a few feet away and kicked at a tire iron lying in the ground. Jett picked it up and Cara’s scent slapped him in the face. A mental image flashed in his mind. Her, holding this, hitting a man with it. Sure enough, there was blood on the side of the tire iron that had been face down and protected from the rain.
She’d fought back.
His chest swelled with pride.
They split up and made a quick sweep of the property. Jett spotted the footprints first and followed them into the back woods. Cara’s scent was strong despite the rain, followed by the aroma of another female.
She’d run, likely toward the rural road about a mile back. Shit. Of all the places to go. The only way into town was through Heeder’s Pass.
“I know where they went,” Jett called to Desi. “Let’s get my truck. They headed to Heeder Pass.”
Desi shook his head and gave Jett a sympathetic look.
“Not now,” Jett said. “Let’s go.”
Best case scenario, he’d pick up her scent and trail her as long as he could. Considering how many hours of a head start her perps had, if they’d recaptured her, they’d be long gone. But if she’d managed to stay free and was hiding somewhere… Christ, that was a big if. She was female and pregnant, two scent triggers that would make it nearly impossible for her to hide from her shifter assailants.
There was really no way she could stay hidden from them. Out here, alone, in the rain-soaked forest. His chest squeezed.
He couldn’t lose her.
