The Amber Lee Boxed Set

  Aaron swallowed the pain he felt for her.

  “When I came to,” she continued, “I was naked, in a ditch some three miles away from home, and covered in dry blood. That’s when Marcus found me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Aaron said.

  Jackal shrugged. “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t hers, either. For a while I thought it was my fault, but I don’t believe that anymore. My mom was upset and I get that; she was just unlucky that her daughter turned out to be a werewolf.”

  “That’s rough. I’m sorry I asked.”

  “You were going to ask me eventually.”

  “I guess I was.”

  “So how about you tell me yours? You kill anyone?”

  “I did,” Aaron said, unashamed. “But they’d killed me first. One of them put three bullets in my chest.”

  “And you got back up,” Jackal said, coolly.

  “Yeah. I don’t remember much about what happened either. I remember the bullets, remember hitting the snow and watching them take Amber away, then I remember feeling powerful and—”

  “They took Amber away? You’re going to have to back up. Who were they?”

  Shit, Aaron thought. He hadn’t told anyone about Amber being a witch. No point hiding it now. “Didn’t I tell you?” he said, smug, “Amber is a witch. The guys who were trying to kill us were part of some demon cult who wanted to kill her and sell her to the devil.”

  By the blank expression on Jackal’s face Aaron assumed she had never encountered a true witch like Amber before. It was either that, or she thought he was bat shit crazy. But Jackal was difficult to read most of the time, and that didn’t do Aaron much good now as he waited for her to process what she had heard and figure out how to reply.

  Finally, Jackal laughed hard. From the belly. Her voice spilled into the woods so sharp and loud that for the second time tonight Aaron felt like every Cougar on the path would be on them at the drop of a hat. But he held his serious face and waited for the fit of laughter to end, and for her smile to fade.

  “Oh, you’re serious,” she said. “I’m sorry, I just thought you were trying to fuck with me.”

  “Why would I make something like this up?”

  “I don’t know. As a goof? I mean, I didn’t even know witches existed until just now; I guess I didn’t know how to react.”

  “Witches are real,” he said, “And they have real power, too. I’ve seen it now. I don’t know how one compares to a Mountain Cougar, but Amber’s pretty formidable.”

  “Formidable,” she echoed. “I like that word.”

  They continued walking down the mountain trail until they reached a part that looked almost like an artificial fork in the road. A human wouldn’t have seen the dirt path that broke off into the trees, but Aaron noticed it.

  “I have an idea,” Jackal said, stopping at the fork.

  “What’s that?” Aaron asked. He was on alert now that their conversation had come to an end. Colors were sharper, now, the smell of wet earth and leaves and animal shit stronger and more pungent.

  “We could keep going down the trail, or we can take a detour that’ll take us some place way more dangerous.”

  “What’s in it for us if we go to the dangerous place?”

  “Glory.”

  A wicked grin spread across Aaron’s face. “I think we’re getting to understand each other better already,” he said, gesturing for her to lead the way.

  Chapter Eight

  The dull throb in Aaron’s shoulder and sides had been reduced to slight stinging sensations by the time he came to the end of the path. Looking down at his arm Aaron couldn’t believe that moments ago it had been torn up so badly he could see his own muscle tissue. But the flesh had healed quickly, knitting together of its own accord by regenerative powers he didn’t understand. It would leave a scar, but something deep inside of Aaron told him it was okay; that he would wear it with pride and learn to love it.

  The wound on his side, however, was proving harder to heal. Stretching too far to the right sent a sharp pain ripping directly into Aaron’s head. He wondered if the Cougar had ripped a nerve and hoped it would heal soon, but Aaron couldn’t do anything to speed the healing process so he simply endured.

  The dirt path Aaron and Jackal had stepped on to brought them to a steep vertical drop. At the foot of the drop, a valley stretched out that was thick with tall trees. The valley rolled down cutting a deep gash in the mountain. A trickle of water, glinting in the moonlight, trailed along the valley’s center.

  Aaron took a deep breath of fresh air, winced at the shot of pain in his side, and exhaled.

  “Is this all theirs?” Aaron asked.

  Jackal nodded. “Territory tends to swap hands often, but this is the only place the Cougars have been able to keep for themselves for a long time. They’re good at defending it.”

  “Then why aren’t they stopping us?”

  “Because we aren’t here to take it, and they know that.”

  “You’re sure about this?”

  “As sure as I know that the Cougar we hurt is on the move. He’s behind us somewhere.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Feel the breeze?” Jackal asked, taking a deep breath. “Which way is it blowing?”

  Aaron paused, felt the cool air on his skin, and took another breath; this time it was a soft one. “South,” he said, “I think that way is south.”

  “Doesn’t matter which direction it is. The point is that the wind is flowing past us. I could smell him more easily when he was ahead of us, could even tell how far away he was. Now all I know is that he’s gone downwind.”

  “Whatever,” Aaron said, “If he comes back we’ll just send him running again.”

  Jackal stepped toward the edge of the cliff and looked down. Aaron did the same. The drop was about a hundred feet into trees and rock. The world started to spin a little and Aaron stepped away from the ledge to regain himself.

  “Scared of heights?” Jackal asked.

  Aaron frowned. “No,” he said.

  In truth, Aaron wasn’t sure if he was scared of heights. He had never been on an airplane—never had the need—and he’d never lived in a place where tall heights were common. But looking down into the crag made his stomach churn. It could’ve been the height, or it could have been his body reminding him that he was hurt, and climbing down wouldn’t be a walk in the park.

  “Good,” Jackal said, “Because we’re going down there.”

  “Alright,” Aaron said. “Ladies first.”

  Jackal threw Aaron a grin, turned to face him, and cracked her neck. Her transformation was liquid; smooth as water. The features on her face seemed to sharpen; nose, eyes, chin, and even her cheeks. It was as if a sculptor had taken a hammer and chisel and turned all of her bones into sharp angles. Her blood red hair grew longer and shaggier, her arms got thicker and a thin layer of dark fur spilled out of her skin, covering her tattoos. When her transformation was done Jackal’s eyes seemed to pulse with blue fire for an instant, and when the light dimmed her eyes seemed to have retained some of that intensity.

  Aaron marveled at how she hadn’t grown much in size nor had she grown nearly as much hair as Aaron had, and yet her muscles were more defined, her nails were longer and sharper than his, and her teeth—though not as pronounced—seemed every bit as capable of ripping someone’s throat open as Aaron’s own. Somehow Jackal had retained her femininity even in her transformation into part beast, and Aaron understood then and there why werewolves take other werewolves for mates.

  There had already existed an attraction between the two of them. Aaron would have been lying if he had denied it. Watching her transform, seeing the definition in her abdomen, arms, shoulders and neck forced a tremor of desire to rush through him. But he didn’t act on it, nor did he speak about it. The image of Amber’s beautiful, smiling face was enough to send the feelings running for the hills and then deep into the woods. Aaron belonged to Amber; only Amber.
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  Maybe in another life Aaron and Jackal would have been a pair, but not in this life.

  “You make it look easy,” Aaron said.

  “That’s because it is easy,” Jackal said, her voice a little hoarse and rough. “Only… don’t go doing this too much around the rest of the pack. They get jealous.”

  Aaron nodded.

  Careful not to fall, Jackal went down to her knees and began her descent down the Cliffside. Aaron came up to the ledge and waited for her to make enough progress for him to follow. The up-draft caught Jackal’s hair and sent it whipping in all directions, but it didn’t seem to bother her as she went down, one step at a time.

  Aaron went to his knees and willed his body to begin the transformation process. For Aaron, starting the transformation had become as simple as flexing a muscle. But there was nothing simple about the slow cracking, pulling, and reshaping of muscle and bone. When the muscles around his ribs stretched and pulled Aaron let out a groan and reached for the wound with his hand. It had started bleeding again and the pain had come back, but only for a moment. The moment passed, the pain left, and the bleeding stopped.

  Not wanting to fall behind, Aaron lowered his leg and searched for a ledge with his foot. When he found one, he dug his right hand into the dirt, found a sturdy nook with his left hand, and came down after his leg. The ache in his side returned—a heavy throb to match the rapid beating of his heart—but Aaron stabilized his body and then took the next step.

  “You alright?” Jackal asked from below.

  “Yeah, fine,” Aaron said.

  “Don’t you go falling on me now.”

  “If I fall I’m taking you with me.”

  Aaron’s foot lost its grip sending a little dirt and a few rocks down the side of the cliff. His heart skipped, but he grabbed a thick root and kept his body tight against the wall while he searched for another nook with his foot.

  “Woah,” Jackal said, the laugh that followed floating away on the breeze. “Easy with your feet up there.”

  Aaron scowled. “Sorry,” he said, “I lost my foot.”

  “I noticed.”

  Another fall of dirt and rocks came, only this time Aaron was holding perfectly still. His eyes widened when the football-sized boulder came rolling down. Aaron watched it tumble, hit the cliff at an angle, and then bounce away only inches before hitting Jackal’s head.

  “Okay, that one nearly got me,” she said, looking up. “You’re gonna have to be more—”

  Aaron and Jackal saw it at the same time.

  There, at the cliff’s edge, climbing down the mountain with the grace and agility of a cat was the Cougar. It had a snarl on its face, tail swishing in the wind, claws gleaming against the moonlight. Aaron’s heart started to pound against his chest and he became acutely aware of the pain in his side. He glanced at the floor—maybe another eighty feet to go—and swallowed hard.

  “I told you go to back,” said the Cougar. “Now you die.”

  “Aaron, move!” Jackal said.

  Aaron snapped out of it, grabbed the next nook that he could, and lowered himself. The sudden rush of adrenaline allowed his senses to sharpen. The world seemed to slow around him to the point where his rapid heartbeats sounded like they were ten seconds apart. Nook. Grab. Pull. Nook. Grab. Pull. The pain in his side was immense, but he worked through it until somehow he passed Jackal on his way down.

  When Aaron looked up again Jackal was a few feet above him and the Cougar only a few feet above her. He saw it reach out with its hand. Aaron screamed for Jackal to watch out. She looked up and saw it, yanked her arm away from the rocks and lost her balance. Jackal reached for a root as her body drifted away from it, but her body tipped—tipped—tipped, until she was in freefall.

  Jackal, no!

  Aaron reached for Jackal as she came past him and he grabbed her arm. Pain ripped through him again as he struggled to hold onto the wall and onto Jackal’s bulkier frame. When he looked up he saw the Cougar approaching again like lightning. His feet were as sure as his hands. Aaron thought the Cougar had made this climb a hundred times. A thousand times, maybe.

  “Let me go!” Jackal said, “Let me fall into the trees!”

  “You don’t know what’s down there,” Aaron said, “I won’t let you go!”

  He couldn’t let her fall into the trees. Neither of them knew what the rocks were like on the ground. For all he knew they were jagged and deadly and waiting for someone to impale. Even a werewolf wouldn’t risk jumping into those trees from this height, much less if he thought he had no control over his descent.

  Summoning all his might, Aaron swung Jackal into the rock below and she grabbed on tight, steadying herself before starting to climb again. Aaron glanced at the Cougar again and saw him closing the gap. He wasn’t more than a few feet now. In seconds his claws would be on Aaron’s flesh again, and he was sure the Cougar would go for Aaron’s good side this time.

  I have to give her time, he thought to himself. Then he remembered what Jackal had said about the beast wolf form. The Cougar’s claws may not have cut so deep if Aaron had been wearing it during their fight.

  Aaron flexed.

  The muscles in his arms exploded. Thick grey fur came rushing out of his pores, covering every inch of his skin. The bones in his face cracked and twisted, his skull elongating and stretching out into a wolf’s snout. Pain gave way to discomfort, and discomfort gave way to power. Aaron’s breathing became heavy and deep, his vision more focused, and his senses sharper. He snarled at the Cougar, who hadn’t paused his descent even for a moment, and then started to climb up the Cliffside—toward the cougar.

  The Cougar halted his descent, stared at Aaron, wide-eyed with surprise. Aaron took the opportunity, grabbed its leg, sank his claws into its skin drawing a trickle of blood, and pulled hard. The Cougar scrambled to find something to hold on to and found the same root Jackal had tried to grab earlier. It hugged the wall and started to kick, but Aaron held on tight and continued to climb. He was stronger, now, and despite the size of his body Aaron’s nails were almost perfectly suited to scale walls with.

  Aaron let go of the Cougar’s legs. It kicked him in the shoulder, but he shrugged the blow off, climbed up another foot, and raked his claw across the Cougar’s back. The werebeast shrieked. It lashed out with its claw, catching Aaron on the forearm. Aaron could have let go of the beast and avoided the blow, but he let the Cougar’s claws rake his thick, gray-furred hide.

  He had a different plan.

  Jackal was almost at the bottom now. A few more feet and she would disappear into the trees. But Aaron wouldn’t be able to get down there without fighting the Cougar, and on the cliff face the Cougar had the advantage. So Aaron let go of the rock entirely, grabbed a hold of the Cougar’s thighs, dug his feet deep into the mountain, and pushed hard.

  Aaron and the Cougar started their own freefall.

  Chapter Nine

  “Aaron! Aaron, wake up!”

  Aaron shook his head and opened his eyes. The world was swimming, spinning, and turning before his eyes. He reached out to touch Amber’s face and smiled, comforted that she was there, only her orange locks began to bleed red and Aaron realized it was Jackal he was touching.

  “You’re alive!” she said, smiling. “You’re alive.”

  She hugged him so tightly she took the breath out of his lungs. Aaron coughed. “Where is it?” he asked.

  “He fell in the trees around there,” she said, pointing.

  Aaron wasn’t sure if he had landed on rock or on grass, but his body was on fire. Everywhere was throbbing, pulsing. He struggled to sit up, groaning as he went, and blinked until the world came into focus. He could see the trees and the darkness between them and knew, somehow he knew, that it was still alive.

  “That guy refuses to die,” he said.

  “So do you.”

  Jackal helped Aaron to his feet and held him upright. Though his body was ablaze with pain, Aaron realized that the wound on his
side had almost completely healed. This puzzled him, but he thought it best not to ask questions until he’d gotten out of the woods. There would be plenty of time for that later.

  “I have to go and finish this,” Aaron said.

  “What, kill him?”

  Aaron nodded.

  “You’re both just as arrogant as each other. Let’s just go and do this thing and get out of here. Do you still have your phone?”

  Aaron tapped his tattered jean pocket and, miraculously, his phone was there. The jeans had ripped at the calves and thighs, but the waist and crotch were intact and that meant that his pockets were intact too, though he couldn’t feel his wallet in his back pocket.

  “Yeah, why, are we calling for back up?”

  “No. We’re going to—”

  Aaron put two fingers to her lips and shushed her. He could hear something in the darkness beyond the trees. A groan, maybe. Twigs snapping. He couldn’t tell exactly where the noises were coming from, only that they were coming from somewhere up ahead.

  “He’s getting up,” Aaron said.

  “No shit.”

  “I can’t take him alone.”

  Jackal looked up at Aaron and for a moment her blue eyes locked with his. She cocked her head slightly and furled her brows. “What did you say?” she asked.

  “I said I need your help. If we’re going to do what we came here to do we need to send him packing, and I can’t do it alone.”

  Jackal’s lips curled into a smile. She reached up to him and kissed his dirty, sweaty cheek—something she didn’t much mind doing.

  “Congratulations,” she said, “You just passed your first trial.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You’ve been oozing this singular, macho thing ever since you showed up. Wolves work in packs, not alone; and this is the first time you’ve admitted to needing my help. I’d say that merits a pass. ”