“The trip would take me a solid hour at a steady walk.” Reaching out, he snagged her pack off her back and hung it casually off one of his shoulders. “It would take you a lot longer, especially weighed down with all this stuff. I’ll carry your pack so we can get there faster.”
In any other situation, Zarina would have complained, but Tanner was right. This wasn’t about her or her pride. There were people hurt who needed her help.
“Okay,” she said. “But don’t think this means I’m going to let you carry my pack all the time.”
Tanner snorted and turned in the same direction the prepper had gone a few minutes ago. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He glanced over his shoulder. “You coming or what?”
Zarina started after him, jogging to catch up. Five minutes later, they were heading up a steep slope, and she was already gasping for breath. Maybe if she asked nicely, Tanner would carry her and her pack?
* * *
Zarina stepped onto the front porch of the small cabin, closing the door quietly behind her. She’d expected to find the camp’s residents waiting expectantly for her, but no one was around. That wasn’t surprising. Lorraine’s surgery had taken a long time. Reaching around, she pressed the heels of her hands to the small of her back and stretched, letting out a groan. From the position of the sun, it must be midday, which meant she’d been working for at least three hours straight. The backache was worth it, though. Lorraine wasn’t going to lose her life—or her leg—even though it felt like Zarina had just performed surgery in the middle of the Stone Age.
She and Tanner had practically run all the way to the prepper camp. Okay, maybe she was exaggerating. Tanner had walked at a brisk pace. She’d mostly stumbled over rocks and tree roots every five feet, trying to keep up.
She looked around at the collection of cabins and tents, searching for Tanner. She and Tanner had been moving too fast when they’d first gotten here to give the place more than a quick glance, but now that she had a minute to take it in, she had to admit it reminded her of something you’d see on The Walking Dead—without the zombies.
Zarina found Tanner standing off to one side of the porch, his back against the cabin wall, his face heavy with exhaustion. He’d been at her side while she’d treated Lorraine for almost the entire morning, helping out any way he could. Even though he didn’t say as much, it was obvious it hurt him to see the old woman in so much pain. But there was nothing Zarina could do to relieve the woman’s agony. The camp’s supply of heavy-duty drugs had been used up in the previous attack or given to the other prepper camps that had also been hit.
“Is she okay?” he asked softly.
He’d left a few minutes earlier, after one of Lorraine’s more vocal moments. It had been difficult for Zarina to take, but she knew it’d been worse for him. His hybrid half had immediately responded to the primal sounds of pain, his eyes flaring red, his fangs and claws extending. Zarina didn’t blame him for walking out. She would have left if she could.
“She’s better,” Zarina said, moving off the porch and walking over to him. “Lorraine will be in pain for a while, but it should start to taper off within the next twelve hours or so.”
Sighing, Tanner closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall of the cabin again. Zarina didn’t say anything else, not wanting to interrupt him if he was silently saying a prayer of thanks. She frowned a little, realizing she didn’t know whether he was religious or not. Then again, there was a lot about Tanner she didn’t know. He kept a lot of stuff to himself. She wished he didn’t do that. Maybe she could make his life better if she knew more about him. Which, strangely enough, was part of the reason she was so attracted to him. That stoic, stubborn nature of his was alluring—when it wasn’t driving her crazy.
Tanner’s eyes abruptly snapped open, and he pushed away from the wall, completely alert. A moment later, Zarina heard the sound of footsteps approaching the cabin. She turned to see Burt, along with another man and a dark-haired teenage girl who was about eighteen or nineteen. The man was probably the same age as Burt, but his face was more lined and his eyes more weary.
It wasn’t until the trio stopped in front of them that Zarina caught sight of the half-healed scar along one side of the girl’s neck. Four parallel wounds, the two in the middle deeper than the ones on either side. It took Zarina only half a second to recognize those scars had come from a shifter—or a hybrid.
Zarina shot a quick look Tanner’s way, telling herself it wasn’t possible. She searched his face for some indication he was the one who’d hurt the girl, but he merely returned her gaze.
“Zarina, you know Burt already,” Tanner said. “This is Chad and his daughter, Lillie.”
Burt gave Zarina a nod while Chad and Lillie took turns shaking her hand. Zarina should have realized the girl was the man’s daughter as soon as she saw them together. They had the same gray eyes, aquiline nose, and arching brows.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you getting here so fast, Tanner,” Chad said. “And for bringing your friend.” He looked at Zarina. “I don’t know what we would have done without her, except maybe lose Lorraine. How is she?”
Zarina opened her mouth to point out that there would have been a lot less drama if they’d simply taken the woman to a hospital like normal people, but the sight of three huge, fierce-looking men coming toward them made her forget what she’d been about to say.
It wasn’t just the blatant anger on the men’s faces that stunned her speechless. It was the fact that she recognized them. But even as she stood there with her mouth hanging open, she told herself she had to be wrong. There was no way they could possibly be the men she thought they were, because the last time she’d seen them, Stutmeir’s goons had been dragging their dead bodies out of an abandoned ski lodge not more than fifteen miles from here.
“What the hell is she doing here?” one of the men snarled, showing off inch-long fangs to go along with his suddenly flaming red eyes. Dark-haired with a broad nose and full lips, he was nearly as tall as Tanner. “She’s one of those damn doctors who tortured us. I’d know her fucking scent anywhere.”
Zarina was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that the hybrids were alive when the one who’d spoken strode toward her, his clawed hands itching to do damage. She barely had enough time to get out of the way before Tanner stepped in front of her and stiff-armed the guy in the chest.
“Back off, Spencer,” Tanner growled, his tone more menacing than Zarina had ever heard it. He pinned the other two hybrids with a glare. One had blond hair and a stocky build while the other was a tall, muscular, dark-skinned man. “Peter and Malcolm, that goes for you too.”
That warning only got them more riled up. Zarina watched in alarm as Peter and Malcolm snarled and bared their fangs. Clearly, they were ready to go through him to get to her.