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He raises his broad snout into the wind, basking in its cold fury.
For the first time since I became a vampire, I am afraid of another living thing. With only the slightest bit of pressure from his bite, this glorious creature could kill me.
Jax bows down, bending first his front legs and then his hindquarters. He swings his head over his massive shoulder, toward his back.
I point to his back. “You want me to climb up there?” Okay. Not what I had in mind when I thought about “riding” the wolf sheriff.
I would smirk, but I swear I think it might freeze on my face from how freaking cold it is out here.
My whole body trembles as I take a few steps through the snow to reach him. I’m terrified, but a little fascinated at the idea of climbing on to the back of a freaking wolf.
I am slow at first, afraid I will hurt him. “Will this be like riding a horse?”
Jax shoots a snarly huff of heat from his snout, in disgust at being compared to a horse no doubt. But hey? What does he expect?
I swing a leg over Jax's massive wolf which is almost the size of his truck and the idea of him being like a horse flies out the window.
He lurches forward and we dash through the brittle darkness.
“Yep, nothing like a horse,” I quip, which only makes him run faster.
For starters, there’s no risk a horse will eat the rider. Then there’s the whole girth issue: there’s no guiding a wolf with my knees when I’m splayed across his broad back. Even through my gloves, his white fur is dense. Muscles ripple as he moves.
“Gives a whole new meaning to the term ‘bareback,’” I mutter.
The wolf snorts, blowing a plume of snow off the ground. It doesn’t sound like a laugh, but then again, wolf shifters aren’t known for their sense of humor.
We leave the soft glow of the cabin and plunge into the darkness. He plows through belly-deep snow, cutting across the landscape with a surprisingly smooth gait. The cold immediately diminishes my senses. One snowbank looks like another and it’s not long before I lose all sense of direction.
Jax slows, presumably to check for directions, before picking up his speed again. He moves unconcerned about running into another trap himself. Probably not a great idea, when I think about it. The storm mutes all signs of life. We meet no one on our trek.
Nature is the ultimate predator. If we get separated, I’ll die of exposure. It’s only been about ten minutes and I can feel my limbs stiffening and my brain becomes sluggish due to the cold.
Jax stops, leaving some space between us and the small semicircle of cabins ahead. This is Maddy’s place. Her a few residents built close together which is a good idea this far outside the town’s borders.
I slide off Jax’s back stiffly, finding my legs clumsy. I stamp my feet, trying to get the blood moving. I would like to get inside, but my thighs won’t budge.
I flex my hands inside my thick gloves since it’s all I can move with no forward motion below my waist possible.
Back in human form, Jax scoops me up in his arms, then strides through the deep snow naked. He certainly has that shifting thing down. My eyelids feel frozen, but when he holds me close to his overly hot body, all that excess heat seeps into my body.
All too soon we’re inside Maddy’s small cabin. My goggles steam up immediately, rendering me temporarily blind.
“She’s pretty cold. Give her a few minutes to warm up. You okay?” Jax pulls my backpack off as he greets Maddy. “I’m gonna take a look around outside.”
I hear him leave and close the door behind me.
I slowly turn to Maddy, smelling the blood from her injury. Her heartbeat is strained but steady.
Jax barges back in with logs in his arms. He throws them onto the roaring fire. I rotate slowly so my backside faces the heat. Little by little my brain unfreezes and I can feel my snarky self comes back to life.
Maddy murmurs something, but it isn’t very encouraging or intelligible.
Removing my goggles, I get my first look at Maddy’s place. Even though I consider her my best friend, she never invites me over. That isn’t unusual. We always meet at Jax’s cabin, the hot spot for residents wanting to try out socializing or conduct business in a town with no offices.
Visiting my patients’ homes sates my voyeuristic bent. Or, to put it another way, I am a nosy vamp. Paranormals are paranoid about their homes for a reason. Years of your species being hunted will do that.
I’m always surprised by how ordinary most paranormals’ lives are. Maddy is no exception. She’s decorated the place thoroughly in shabby chic. Upon closer inspection, I realize all the furnishings are original, not a recent spruce-up. The square cabin has a utilitarian kitchen in one back corner. Next to that, a narrow door stands ajar, leading to a very small bathroom. Her bed is in the other rear corner. There is a potbelly stove with a chimney in the center of the room. By the front window, an old paint-splattered table holds her computers. Since she’s a tech person, they are her livelihood. Outside of the bed and computer table, the room is mostly stacks of detective novels.
