Rhian Cahill's Blog

Hiding out! Six Sentence Sunday – Coyote Home Pt2...

Snippet Saturday – Freaks come out at Night

This week we're doing freaks of the night or bad boys of the night. I figure that would include my coyote shifters so I'm sharing a snippet of Steve from Coyote Whispers.

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Steve sat enclosed by darkness and listened to the sounds of the forest as it settled into the coming night. The sun had gone down hours ago thanks to the mountains he called home, but true sunset still had a few minutes. He'd lived in Whispering Springs or the surrounding mountain range his whole life. Never once had he felt the urge to leave it behind and explore the world. He took the occasional trip down the mountainside to visit one of the big cities, but there was no appeal in staying away longer than a day or two, a week at most.

He breathed deep, pulling the chilled, late-spring air into his lungs, the accompanying sting of cold meeting warm, a welcome twinge. His house had been finished for two months, but he hadn't moved everything in until this past weekend. A grin curled his lips as he thought about why it had taken so long. Having his two best friends somewhat occupied with Rowan's return had slowed down both the finishing of the house and the moving in. Not that he'd complain. Steve was more than happy Rowan had finally come home and even happier to see her reunited with her mate, Quinn.

The night around him grew still, quiet in a way that pricked his instincts, caused his hair to stand on end, and drew his coyote's attention. Steve slowly sat forward, leaned over to put his beer bottle on the deck beside his chair, before closing his eyes and honing his senses to listen—to smell. The crush of undergrowth beneath running feet hit him first, followed by a body-slamming gust of fear. He scented two shifters but he couldn't place them. Tried harder to separate them and connect either essence to the memory of its owner.

A howl of agony echoed up the ridge, sliced into his gut and pulled his coyote out with amazing speed. On his feet, Steve was glad he'd forgone shirt and shoes after his shower as he removed his sweats. Free of the restrictive garment, he shifted as he leapt over the deck railing to the ground one story below. He landed with a jolt to every bone but ignored it as he ran through the forest in the direction of the horrific screams of distress.

As he drew closer he could hear the struggles, smell the fear—the blood. The enjoyment. The attacker, in coyote form if he wasn't mistaken, was thrilled with his catch. A catch Steve had every intention of setting free. His muscles shuddered and it wasn't just from the exertion of running all out. He thought about stealth but a bloodcurdling cry and bark of triumph changed his mind. Low branches and shrubs slapped into him, tangled with his fur, as he powered his bulk toward the fight up ahead he glimpsed through the trees.

The other animal's head whipped up, yellow eyes and white teeth glowed in the dusk as he turned in Steve's direction. A frustrated howl rent the air as the coyote turned from his prey and bolted in the opposite direction. Torn between going after the retreating coyote and tending to the victim, Steve stumbled enough to have the decision made for him. Whoever the coyote was, he had too much head start and the metallic stench of blood told Steve his first concern should be the wounded human crumpled on the ground.

Ripped, blood-splattered clothes covered the too-still body, but there was no mistaking the feminine shape or perfume. He reached her side and shifted back to human form. Uncaring of his naked state, he knelt beside her head and felt for a pulse. The steady beat reassured him but how long would it stay that way? The overpowering aroma of spilled blood masked her scent, but he knew she was one of the pack, her scent was familiar. Too familiar. No! His fingers brushed away hair to reveal her face and Steve's heart stopped.

"Doc?" The hoarse whisper ached in his throat.

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You can find more info on Coyote Whispers HERE!