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Meaning, whether I liked it or not, I was stuck here until sunset. I crossed my legs and plopped down on the sandy soil. After a while, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, trying to rest, trying to ignore the aches and the internal fires and the confusion.
I didn't succeed.
Time passed slowly, but eventually dusk cast its bloody ribbons across the sky and the heat began to fade. I rose stiffly to my feet and sniffed the air, searching for something, anything, that might give me a direction.
Nothing but crisp, clean emptiness.
I blew out a breath, saw the evening star beginning to twinkle in the sky, and headed that way. It was as good a direction as any.
Dusk continued to blaze across the sky, vivid and beautiful, but eventually gave way to night. The stars came out, dominating the sky, brighter than I could ever remember seeing them. Not that that was saying much, because it wasn't like I could remember a whole lot.
I kicked up a puff of soil with my toes, watching the dust float away on the breeze. Was I meant to die out here?
That arrogant voice had said he wasn't going to kill me, but maybe he'd simply meant he wasn't going to do it himself. Maybe this was his method of revenge - trapping me out here, in the middle of nowhere, with no resources and no one to call on. Not even my wolf.
In the distance, crickets droned. Or maybe they were locusts, because they were certainly making a whole lot more noise.
And they were on the move, getting closer, getting louder.
Too loud, in fact, to be either crickets or locusts. I stopped and frowned up at the sky. Saw the lights - lights that were moving, circling. A plane.
"Hey!" I ran forward, waving my arms frantically. "Hey, I'm here."
It was night, the landscape was vast, and the chances of their seeing me were next to none, but that didn't stop me from screaming like a maniac or trying to catch their attention.
Light shot out from the plane, spearing the hill above me. I ran toward it, saw it dart sideways, and dove frantically for that patch of bright salvation. I hit the turf hard, rolled to my knees, and looked up, squinting against the harshness of the light.
"Help!" I screamed again. "I need help!"
For a moment there was no response, then the light flicked off and the plane banked away.
"No!" The word was wrenched from my throat. I punched the ground in frustration, my vision suddenly blurred with tears. Damn it, they couldn't leave. They couldn't ...
They weren't.
The plane was descending, not leaving. I scrambled to my feet and ran down the hill toward it.
The plane taxied to a halt and the small rear door opened. A red-haired man scrambled out and ran toward me. That fleeting image of the boy who'd chased me rose again, and something inside me leapt for joy. But as my gaze fell on his face, my steps slowed. That face wasn't the face I remembered. Wasn't the face I was expecting.
For a start, it was a whole lot younger.
He didn't seem to notice my sudden hesitation, just reached me and swept me into a hug that was fierce and strong.
"Jesus, Hanna," he said, his voice hoarse. "I thought you were dead."
Hanna. I rolled the name around internally, but for some reason, it didn't sit right. "Obviously, I'm not."
He laughed - a rich warm sound - and stepped back, holding me at arm's length. His bright gray eyes - so familiar, so alien - searched mine. "You look like shit."
"Not surprising, given that's how I feel." I stepped back, away from his touch. "Who the hell are you?"
Surprise rippled across his features. "What do you mean, who the hell am I? Who do you think I am?"
"If I knew that, I wouldn't be asking the question." I crossed my arms and stared at him. He was a little taller than me, and broader in the shoulders. His face was rough-hewn but oddly handsome, and his scent said he was a wolf. From the red pack, if his longish hair was anything to go by.
Part of me felt like I should have known him, but the other part, the instinctive part, said he was a stranger.
"Hanna, you know who I am." He reached for my hand, but I avoided his touch. Surprise ran through his eyes. Surprise and concern. "You really don't, do you?"
