Jasmine sighed and scratched an itch under her black Road Runner stocking cap. She was worried, but tried not to dwell on it. It wouldn't help the situation. Besides, there might be a good explanation for this.
She noticed a sticker bush twig in Lemming's fur. Gently, she removed it and flicked it into the coals. So now what? She didn't plan to stay in grizzly and wolf infested woods any longer then she had to. At first light she'd pack up and go for help. Maybe if she kept her eyes open she'd see signs of her friend.
She coughed as smoke suddenly blew into her face and moved around the fire.
There was nothing more she could do right now, and she was tired of having the fire roast her front end while the cold air behind froze her rear. Time to crawl into her tent, shuck down to her long johns and hope she wouldn't have to shiver too long before the down sleeping bag warmed up. Though come to think of it, the night almost seemed to be getting warmer.
Scoffing at her wishful thinking, she stood and kicked dirt over the fire. That's when she saw them.
Eyes.
Freaky, glowing golden eyes. Lots of them.
Lemming growled and pressed so tightly against her that she nearly tripped as the eyes evolved into wolves with eerie, alien faces.
Slowly she reached for the 357 Smith and Wesson revolver strapped to her hip. She'd brought the thing as a bear deterrent, but there was no reason it couldn't take down a wolf.
The fur on the creature directly in front of her hackled and it snarled a warning that made her own hair stand on end. Lemming responded with a vicious bark that made her jump.
"Touch it and they'll rip your throat out," a man's voice said mildly. It came from the dark, behind the wolves.
Jasmine emitted a strangled yell. Her nerves were on the crawl as she thought of someone watching her. She searched the darkness, but couldn't see beyond the animals. "Who's there?"
As if in a nightmare, a man stepped away from the camouflage of dark trees. He stood less than ten feet from her and seemed to study her with faint distaste. Maybe she didn't measure up to his twisted fantasies. Maybe he liked tall girls, like Wiley. What were the odds he knew where she was?
Her jaw hardened. She itched to draw and cock the gun, but the slight movement of her hand brought the snarling beast before her a step closer.
"Call off your dogs," she demanded hoarsely. All the moisture that should have been in her mouth decided to run down her back instead. Who'd turned up the heat?
"Give up your weapon," the stranger ordered, and his words were brushed with an odd accent. "They don't trust you."
"The feeling is mutual, pal, but I'm not doing it. They'll eat me alive if I do." She'd watched TV. She knew what happened to the idiots who dropped the gun.
He glanced at the creatures. "Your choice."
Long moments passed while she held his gaze. Sweat plastered the hair under her hat to her scalp. For all she knew this guy had kidnapped Wiley and was keeping her somewhere nearby…if she was still alive.
It was that thought more than anything that made her give in. Swearing one of Wiley's favorite words, she gave a curt nod. Careful not to make any sudden moves that might set the wolves off, she unfastened the safety strap of the holster and eased the gun out. Surprisingly, she wasn't snarled at until she hesitated at the last moment.
"You'll never kill them all," the stranger said with a trace of impatience.
Reluctantly, she tossed down the gun.
While she'd been stalling, the heat had turned killer. That was one heck of Chinook blowing, or he'd done something to cause it. There was a faint shimmer in the night behind him, an odd pressure in the air. She'd swear she smelled ozone.
Fearful she'd die of heatstroke at any moment, she yanked off her hat, then unzipped her heavy coat and shrugged it off. If she had to die, at least it wouldn't be from the sudden thaw.
She glanced at the wolves, but they were no longer snarling. In fact, the one she thought of as the leader had backed off. He kept his eyes on her while the others wove in and out of the huge trees.
Huge trees?
Jasmine paused in the act of stripping off her Norwegian sweater, all the fine hairs on her body standing on end. Huge trees? There were no trees like that in Alaska. But there they were, gleaming in the light of the triple moons...
For a bad moment Jasmine's world tilted, threatening the first faint of her life. Just in time, her innate good sense kicked in. Now was not the time for wilting.
As she stared, ferns sprang from the undergrowth and the trees moved closer, as the shimmer behind the stranger seemed to grow, marching forward as if swallowing her world whole. She hadn't moved, but that shimmer behind him, that otherworldly window, had grown to encompass them both. She was afraid to look behind her, afraid to see it consume all the earth.
First things first. The heat was humid and tropical, murderous to blood thickened by a cold climate, and she was overdressed. With a deep breath to calm her jangled nerves, she sent the man a defiant look and pulled off the bulky sweater, tugging the black T-shirt underneath to keep it from riding up. Then she just stood there in the redwood-scented air and tried to make sense of the moment. Sweat rolled down her back, and she wished she could ditch her wool socks and the long underwear. Her feet were sweltering in her heavy boots.
The man shifted restlessly. "Come." He melted into the trees before she had a chance to argue.