The Shifter's Choice (2 page)

“No!” She lifted her hands in surrender. “I’ll do it. I’ll meet him. I’ll teach him.”

Her captain pressed his lips together, hands on hips. Finally he pointed to his Jeep. “Get in.”

Sonia lifted her duffel and placed it in the rear seat. The captain said nothing to this as he climbed back behind the wheel.

Once she was seated, he said, “If he doesn’t like you or if you run off, you’re back in the brig.”

“But I can’t keep him from chasing me off.”

“You better.”

She recalled the mention of the teachers before her and wondered what Lam had done to make them quit. Sonia wiped the sweat from her upper lip. Whatever he did, it couldn’t be as bad as prison.

“What if he hurts me?”

“He won’t. I’d stake my life on it. But I can guarantee he’ll try to scare the life out of you. So...you ready to meet your new pupil?”

“I’m not a teacher. I’ve never taught anyone anything.”

“That’s not quite true, Touma. You taught your sister, Marianna, her first signs and you took out that library book so you could both learn.”

Man, somebody was scary good at research.

“Do we understand each other, Private?”

She saluted. “Yes, sir.”

He returned it with a definite lack of enthusiasm. “Great. You meet him this afternoon at fourteen hundred. I’ll take you to your quarters, but I wouldn’t unpack just yet.”

* * *

Sonia eyed her duffel bag wondering where it and she would be by nightfall. She’d made it to the barracks, but barely had time to wash her face before a young woman arrived to give her a tour. Her footlocker was delivered before they left their quarters. Her guide was chatty and asked too many damned personal questions. The private was a nurse, so once she reached the medical facility she felt the need to introduce Sonia to a lot of people she didn’t have the first inclination to get to know. As a result, she brought Sonia back late. The captain was waiting outside their quarters, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

Sonia climbed in the Jeep and they were off on a road that led through the base and then scaled the mountain in increasingly harrowing switchbacks. Sonia clung to her seat like a monkey on her mama’s back as the vehicle jostled on the unpaved road. The low dry scrub lining their way reminded her of West Texas where she’d first been stationed. As they continued upward, the yellow grasses gave way to tall, spindly pines rising eighty feet into the air. The Jeep trail cut through the giants, revealing the exposed red earth, dry as the dust cloud that rooster-tailed out behind them. Through the pine she could see the perimeter fence continuing parallel to their route. That was a lot of fence through a whole lot of nothing. Questions buzzed like flies in her mind.

She welcomed the shade but not the rush of air through the open window that played havoc with the neat knot of her hair. She kept one hand on the crown of her hat as they bounced through ruts and climbed into the tropical valley. The land folded back on itself like a ribbon. Ferns now clung to the red earth, growing in bunches, some so impossibly high they looked like trees. The landscape seemed a primordial forest and she could imagine prehistoric creatures roaming among the primitive plants. The pines had disappeared to be replaced by trees she couldn’t name. Moss hugged each branch like a fuzzy green coat and the air hung thick and heavy all about her.

“Rain forest,” said the captain. “On the top it’s grass and rock, but in between the ocean and the mountain peak we have this. Outer perimeter is five square miles. UV cameras, motion detectors, electronic sensors throughout. Inner perimeter is higher with deterrents in addition to surveillance. Plus a lock-in facility down below.”

Deterrents could be anything, landmines, machine-gun towers, gas, patrols.

Sonia wondered what they were protecting. Was this all for Sergeant John Loc Lam? She considered the possibilities as the captain continued on.

“Nothing gets in or out without us knowing.” He eyed her for a moment and then returned his attention to the road.

Sonia nodded at his additional warning that running would not work. Her back was to the wall. She was going to teach John Lam or end up in jail.

“Where are we going, sir?”

They switched back again and again until she was looking out at the Pacific Ocean’s deep blue water. She could no longer see anything but the narrow tracks of the Jeep trail and the encroachment of lush greenery.

The jungle grew in a green curtain right to the edge of the path. It seemed that if she took one step to the right or left she might vanish forever. Why did she want to take that step?

She tried to penetrate the foliage with her gaze and found one shadowy break. Something stared back with wide-set yellow eyes and a face surrounded with shiny black hair. She startled backward against the clutch and pointed but it was gone.

“What?” asked the captain.

“A-animal,” she managed. “Big. Black.” But not any animal she’d ever seen. It had a caninelike mouth complete with long saber-toothed tiger fangs.
Was that Lam?

“Shit,” said MacConnelly, and then, “We’re nearly there.”

She could see the foliage moving parallel to the Jeep. Whatever it was, it could run faster than they could drive. From the safety of the vehicle, her fear tipped toward fascination as she caught glimpses of its black hide in the forest. What else could John Lam do that a normal man could not? She supposed she was about to find out.

The captain slowed to pull into a drive that she had not even seen.

Without warning the path opened up and the sunshine they had left behind in the valley poured down on them. Sonia blinked in the brilliant light as she looked out the window. The house took her breath away. The exterior was painted a pale blue-green with white trim. A wide porch with white lattice work circled the second story. The roof had just the slightest pitch and peak. Of course, no snow here, so why have an angled roof, she thought. Still, this placed looked about as far away from Yonkers, New York, as one could get and that was exactly why she loved it on sight. It wasn’t attached to other apartments, it had a yard, sort of, and privacy. She remembered the perimeter fence. It sure did have privacy. Her gaze shifted, searching for John Loc Lam.

“These are my quarters. My wife wanted a look at you.”

Sonia’s stomach dropped as she prepared herself for this next inspection.

His home resembled a two-story boathouse perched on stilts above a small stream that meandered past a brook that reflected the sky and trees. A small arched bridge allowed a visitor to cross from the path over the water to the house. She glanced at the bank of windows that covered the entire ground floor and saw a face. As quick as she could blink the face was gone. Had she seen it? She could have sworn there had been a woman there with long wavy hair as red as a new penny. That creepy feeling slithered down her back again.

“She won’t come out,” he said. “She has agoraphobia.”

“Fear of spiders?” Sonia asked.

“Open spaces. She doesn’t go out and you don’t go in.” He put the Jeep in park and exited the vehicle. “Wait here.”

Sonia rolled down the window and stared out at the flower boxes spilling over with exotic pink blossoms. The porch had a swinging love seat, a metal fire pit and several comfortably padded chairs.

The deep sorrow that bubbled up inside her took her completely unawares. How could she miss something she’d never had? A pretty home of her own, with a swing and a garden. It had always been just a fantasy. But here, a man in uniform had it. The fantasy now seemed almost possible.

“If you stay out of jail,” she muttered.

Something hit her door with enough force to tip the Jeep before the vehicle thudded back to earth. Sonia screamed as the tires bounced beneath her. She turned and there he was, filling the gap in the open window. Big and black and foaming from his snapping jaws. He lifted a clawed hand and reached for her and Sonia found herself on the driver’s side with her back pressed up against the door.

He snapped his teeth. They locked with a horrible clicking sound as he went still and his strange yellow eyes went wide. He looked frozen while she had stopped breathing.

She released the latch and tumbled out onto the ground and took off for the house, running faster than she’d ever ran before. Behind her, she heard him coming after her, jaws snapping, the ripping sound of the grass as he tore it out by its roots. She scrambled up the steep stairs to reach the front door and bolted through it, throwing herself back against the solid wood frame. The thing pounded up the stairs and thumped on the door sending vibrations clear through her body. Sonia flipped the lock and stumbled back to land on the floor where she cowered for many long minutes.

Finally the pounding stopped and the silence descended around her, more terrifying than the beating of his fists against wood. Where was he?

He might have killed her. But he hadn’t. Somehow she’d escaped. One thing was certain. She was not teaching that thing.

Her heart slammed in her chest, jackhammering against her ribs until they ached. Finally Sonia recovered enough to stand. Her mind began to tick again. She recalled seeing John Lam running beside the Jeep at twenty miles an hour, at the very least. Yet he had not been able to catch her as she fled. And he had reached for her, but not succeeded in grabbing her when she was trapped in the Jeep even though he had taken her unawares. He’d nearly tipped the thing over. Could have, she was certain. But didn’t. If he’d wanted to grab her that would have been a good time to do it.

But he hadn’t. The truth filtered through the fear. He hadn’t caught her because he wasn’t
trying
to catch her. He was trying to scare her.

What had the captain said, she might shit herself? Well, she nearly had.

Was this some hazing? Did the captain know this would happen?

Sonia’s anger rose within her like lava, clouding her judgment with great plumes of black smoke.
That asshole!

“Damn them both!”

She unfastened the lock and threw open the door. John was gone. Why hang around when he was sure that she would run back to the captain and quit. Well that is exactly what she would have done if she could. But she couldn’t because despite how frightening John Loc Lam was, prison scared her more.

Sonia tugged her hat down low over her eyes and marched back outside. She was not going to let that overgrown wolf pup scare her into a jail cell. Not now. Not ever.

Chapter 2

J
ohnny heard the Jeep pull out. Why the hell hadn’t Mac told him that this teacher was a woman?

He might have given her a heart attack. She’d had her head turned to look at the house when he charged the Jeep and he already had his arm in the window when she turned around. He’d never forget the look on her face for as long as he lived. There, reflected in her big brown eyes were all the things he knew he’d become. She’d been terrified, of course, and she’d run. He’d run, too, at first out of instinct. The flight of prey triggered something deep inside him now. Then he’d slowed to let her escape. He was ashamed. Even as he pounded on the door he wanted to beg her forgiveness for what he’d done and for what he’d become.

But he couldn’t go back. He’d chased her away and that was best for them both. Maybe now Mac would give up this stupid idea and let him train for a combat mission. Johnny knew he could be effective in the field if they’d just give him a chance.

He headed up the trail that led from Mac’s home to his quarters wondering what it would be like to have that woman as his teacher. Like she’d ever come back after the way he’d welcomed her. She’d have to be crazy.

Mac would give him hell and Johnny would let him because this time he deserved it.

When he reached his quarters, Johnny was surprised to hear the Jeep engine. He didn’t understand. Mac hadn’t had time to take the woman back to base. The first prickle of unease lifted the hairs on his neck. He loped the remaining distance to his yard. There he found his captain disembarking with the woman. Mac’s mouth was set in a grim line but he did not look pissed, certainly not as monumentally pissed as Johnny expected after the stunt he’d pulled. Johnny’s gaze flashed to the woman, surprised to see that it was she who looked pissed. Her pretty face was flushed pink and her pointed chin was raised like a dagger. She stared directly at him in an obvious challenge. Now this was unexpected. Johnny took a step in their direction, anticipating she would retreat or move closer to Mac. Instead she scowled as if she’d figured it all out. He didn’t know if he should run at her again or beg her forgiveness.

The involuntary growl started in his throat. She was upwind so he lifted his nose and breathed deep. He did not scent fear. More like fury. He’d watched her run. So why had she come back and why the hell hadn’t she told Mac what he’d done?

He could tell by Mac’s hopeful expression that his captain was clueless about his trying to scare her away. This was so weird. Johnny felt unbalanced, as if
she
was hunting him. He felt a rush of blood and a tingle of excitement.

This woman interested him.

But learning to sign did not.

Maybe he’d take the seat out of her trousers. He crossed to them both on his hind legs, clenching and unclenching his fists as he came. She didn’t retreat which showed a distinctive lack of self-preservation.

Instead, she snapped a salute and Johnny frowned.

Mac pointed at the woman’s hand. “I think that one is for you, Sergeant.”

Johnny straightened and returned a sloppy salute, now ill at ease. She was messing with him. He was certain now. He didn’t like playing the fool so he bared his teeth.

“Sergeant Lam, this is Private Sonia Touma. I’ve briefed her on your condition and she’s anxious to teach you the communication skills you lack. She is fluent in sign language.”

Johnny tried to imagine what Mac had over her to make her agree to this. She’d been right the first time. Better to run and take the consequences. He didn’t want a teacher, especially one who smelled like rose petals.

Sonia Touma stood at attention like a good little soldier. Johnny eyed her. She was short, curvy, from what he could see beyond her uniform. Slender wrists showed she was on the thin side. He studied her heart-shaped face finding her eyes angled and set wide beyond a nose that was slightly hooked, bringing an ethnic flare to her features. When he’d chased her, her hair had come loose from its moorings, but now it was all tucked up beneath her cap again. Certainly she had a lovely mouth, full and pink. As he stared, her mouth quirked and Johnny’s pulse kicked like a jackrabbit. Oh, hell, this little female was trouble. Their eyes met and she held his stare, issuing an unspoken challenge. That glimmer of determination and the flaring of her nostrils intrigued the hell out of him.

Brave, stupid or suicidal?
he wondered. But, of course, he couldn’t ask.

“I’ve got supplies in the truck. I’ll set them up on the porch,” said Mac, just plowing forward like always.

Mac was so sure that this was what he needed. If she tried to teach him one thing he’d chase her down the mountain because he was not learning to sign. But still Mac kept pushing.

Johnny glared as his captain returned.

“I’ll just put the easel up.” Mac walked around the house and paused at the fire pit to take in the number of discarded and crushed beer cans. They both knew that alcohol didn’t affect him. Mac must have realized that drinking beer on the mountain was a nice perk for his new buddies. Only they weren’t buddies. You didn’t have to assign buddies or pay them. But that’s what Mac had done and then he couldn’t figure why Johnny wouldn’t hang with them. The only one he even liked was Zeno because he could tell a story complete with punch line. He made everything seem funny. Only sometimes they weren’t.

The easel creaked as Mac placed it in the shade on the right side of the porch. He pulled two markers from his pocket. One red and one black. The eraser came from the opposite pocket. Then he dragged a single chair before the large, blank dry-erase board and dusted off his hands. Did he have a pointer for his new teacher? Johnny folded his arms and lifted a brow at Mac who ignored him. The woman had already stayed longer than the last two combined and Mac obviously took that as some kind of encouragement.

“I’m leaving the Jeep and walking down to see Bri. I’ll be back in an hour.” Mac pointed at his Jeep and then shook his finger at him issuing a silent warning to Johnny not to mess with his ride.

Johnny still considered rolling his Jeep again.

Mac handed over a phone to the woman. “Private Touma, if you need help just press dial. It calls the MPs directly. Otherwise, I’ll see you in sixty.”

The MPs?
Johnny stared from one to the other as questions rose in his mind. Was this some trick, some setup to get him so curious he wrote on that damned whiteboard?

He glanced at Touma and decided that no one was that good an actor. Something was going on because the woman was shaking now, shaking like she was scared and not of him. What did Mac have over her that made her willing to stay?

Johnny could only wonder because he’d be damned if he’d lift one of those stinky dry-erase markers.

Mac gave Touma a hard look and headed for the trail on the opposite side of the yard. It led down past the waterfall and grotto to the captain’s house, half a mile away.

A new scent came to him and he turned toward the woman. Now Johnny smelled fear. He glanced at Touma noting the strain on her face as she watched the captain depart. Was she dismayed at being alone with the big bad wolf?

She should be.

Mac disappeared down the trail and Touma blew out a breath. The smell of fear ebbed. Then Johnny realized something odd. She wasn’t afraid of him. She was afraid of Mac. But that made no sense at all.

Had she thought that Mac’s glare had something to do with her? He wanted to ask her and then was instantly annoyed at himself. He didn’t need to ask anything. What he needed was to get rid of her before this got any worse.

The woman cleared her throat. Johnny emitted a low growl. Her eyes flicked to the hated easel and then back to him.

He wondered if she was stupid enough to pick up that red marker. She turned to the board and dropped the cell phone into the tray. She wasn’t calling for rescue. Strange. But he found himself impressed with her bravery.

She met him with a direct look. “You want to show me around?”

Johnny stared at her for a long moment. She stared back with dark soulful eyes that seemed a little sad to him. He wanted to ask her what she’d done to get this shit job, but he didn’t know sign language. If he learned he could speak to her. But that would be giving up. Sometimes he thought that all he had left was the daily fight to hold on to his hope. Learning sign would kill it.

“Listen,” she tried again and this time, when she spoke she accompanied each word with a sign. “I’m stuck here for an hour and I’d like it very much if you didn’t eat me while I wait.”

Johnny exhaled in a short blast that was his laugh.

“So, do you want to show me your home or do you want me to go sit over there for the hour?” She finished signing and pointed at a bench facing the treetops and beyond that, the blue waters of the Pacific. Johnny spent a lot of time looking at those waters...imagining.

“Sit or tour?” she asked, making the signs for both.

He continued to stare, refusing to imitate her signs.

She smiled. “Great. My choice, then.”

She walked to the bench and folded stiffly into the far corner. He remained where he was. She sat gazing out at the vista, a slight smile on her face. When fifteen minutes passed it became obvious that she was quite happy to sit there and wait him out. He worried about her. Why had she stayed?

It was one thing for him to give her the heave-ho but another for her to ignore him. He wasn’t used to being ignored and didn’t like it.

Johnny grabbed the dry-erase board and broke it into a manageable size, then retrieved the black marker and then returned to her.

He wrote one word.
Quit
.

She glanced at the board and crossed her arms, glancing back at the water. “Fat chance, furball.”

He blinked at her. Had she just called him furball? He could snap her in two like a twig. He could throw her fifty yards like a football. He could...

He pointed at the word. She uncrossed her arms, lifted the broken piece of board from his hand and then threw it like a Frisbee over the edge of the embankment. Was she demented?

She started signing as she spoke. “Listen, I can’t leave. You got it? I’m stuck here for—” she glanced at her watch “—thirty-one more minutes. So run along if you want to but quit bothering me.”

Johnny growled and leaned in so that his nose nearly touched hers. She turned her back on him. Johnny stomped around in front of her and gave her the finger before jumping over the embankment.

Her voice followed him, a shout and a challenge filled with fury and dripping with a mocking sarcasm that twisted him into an angry knot. “Oh, so you already know how to sign!”

* * *

Johnny tore through the undergrowth using his claws as his own personal machete against anything unlucky enough to get in his way. He could slice through metal as easily as he used to tear through paper so the foliage stood no chance.

What the hell was that? Furball? Run along? The woman must be suicidal or crazy. Maybe both. Where did Mac find these people?

Johnny slowed as he thought there might not be a waiting list of people willing to tutor a surly werewolf. He swung at a tall fern and greenery fell about him in tiny bits.

Beside him the dense, wet jungle clung to a cliff so steep that even he had trouble holding on. On more than one occasion he’d imagined just letting go.

“Johnny!”

He recognized the voice. It was Mac heading up the hill to collect his tutor. He sounded pissed.

Johnny took another step in the direction he had been going.

“I can hear you, damn it! Turn around or, so help me, I will take a chunk out of that tough hide.”

Johnny knew Mac could do it, because his captain was also a werewolf. Bitten the same night as Johnny and in the same fight. Neither of them had known what they were up against, but their commander had.

Johnny turned back toward his captain. He turned for the same reason his friend hadn’t given up on him—duty. Duty to each other, duty to the Corps, duty to himself, duty to his departed father, his struggling mother and the little sister he swore would go to college. He was so damned tired of doing his duty—but still he held on.

Nobody but Mac could keep up with him when he climbed this volcanic rock. Was it Johnny’s fault that his new set of playmates couldn’t keep up? Not that it was their fault. They were good guys. But they were still human and slow as shit.

Johnny crawled from the undergrowth a moment later. Mac met him, wearing a frown. You’d think being a newlywed living on a lovely tropical island would make his former squad leader happy. Johnny knew, if not for him, Mac would be.

Mac exhaled heavily as he rummaged in his pack withdrawing a black slate. Johnny snarled and Mac met his eyes and then scowled. Johnny didn’t like writing because he couldn’t really control the pen. It made him feel stupid, so he revealed his three-inch canines to no visible effect. Mac was one of the very few who could meet his gaze without turning away. That was saying something because Johnny knew what he looked like. In his werewolf form, he was nine feet of hideousness that could easily step into any number of horror flicks or out of every child’s nightmare.

So Johnny avoided looking at himself. His long snout and black wolfish nose disturbed him nearly as much as the deadly claws and the thick canine pads on his feet. His eyes were no longer soft brown. Now they were as yellow as the rising moon. He still had black hair, but it covered his entire body, right up to his pointed ears and the knuckles of his distended fingers. Once upon a time in that old life, he’d kept his nails trimmed short. But he’d given up on that along with other things. So many other things.

Mac had gray fur when in werewolf form and his eyes were blue. Johnny wished Mac would run with him instead of sending his substitutions. His captain withdrew a broken nub of chalk from the depths of his pack. The bag and its contents had been his new wife’s idea. Brianna knew that her husband transformed naked from wolf to man and that he and Johnny had an ongoing communication problem. So she’d modified a bag so it would fit around his wolfish neck. Then when he reached his destination he could transform and get dressed which explained why his clothes were often wrinkled.