The forest trail was rough as hell, full of stones and boulders and gnarled roots. It was usually a tricky path, meant to be taken at a leisurely pace.
But the mare was going flat out.
Instinctively, Zach tried to help by using the lead rope to help her choose her ground. But after the first few hundred yards, he let up on it. Storm never put a foot wrong. Somehow, she only placed them where there was solid ground to do so, with hardly a hitch in her stride.
She was a mustang, born to run with eyes in her feet and the wind in her mane. Zach was smart enough to recognize when he wasn’t needed.
His job was to stay on.
Not an easy one with his head spinning and his vision blurring. In addition to the usual obstacles, the gusting winds of the thunderstorm had dropped trees across their path. Ahead, a large trunk had come down, snapping off several smaller ones. They littered the path, and branches hung above it. Zach hunched low over her neck as Storm tilted her head and adjusted her stride. She ducked beneath one, over the next, and through a tangle, shoving branches aside with her shoulders. They snagged at Zach’s legs and threatened to yank him off, but he clung to her mane.
Around and behind them, the Sabres ran. They kept pace with the mare, sometimes surging ahead or alongside, but most often ranging behind. The forest was often dense, the tree trunks close together and difficult to penetrate. Zach had worked hard over time to expand the tiny game trail to a proper path.
He’d never dreamed he’d be galloping down it.
The storm hadn’t just left downed trees, it had swamped the low-lying areas with enormous puddles. Storm crashed through them without breaking stride, her large hooves slapping down and sending spray flying.
Zach wound one hand in the thick mane and kept the other free to help him stay balanced. His head ached. But his body sought and found Storm’s rhythm, the flex of muscles and sinew, the breath drawn in when the legs extended, and out when they bunched beneath. She was doing what nature had designed her to do—to run, at speed, over rough terrain.
For however long it took.
He left his body to do what it knew and cast his brain out to the east. Toward the entrance to the pits, along the access road a mile away from his own. Once again, his ability staggered, and he had to push through fog to focus. Getting blown up was hard on an Empath.
There. At the very edges of what he sensed without Jessie’s power, something. He could barely feel them. Weres, at the pits. A large group. Standing and waiting, near vehicles parked just inside the main entrance. He sensed thepainanddiscomfortfrom those injured in the latest battle with the Sabres.
He pulled back, searching. The pits themselves were bare of anything other than the little fits and spurts from wildlife going about their daily business.
Storm leaped over another tree, forcing Zach to snap back to his body. For a moment, he lost his grip and slipped. The mare snorted and shifted beneath him, stepping sideways in mid stride to keep him on.
Zach steadied and scratched her neck.Thank you.
She tossed her head and accelerated. Zach took a deep breath and cast his awareness to the west of the pits.
Jessie glowed.
She was fixing images in her mind for him. Interweaving them with emotion to help him connect. And he did, with crystal clarity. They’d crossed the road and were making their way around the farms and houses. Moving with speed, but also caution.
Something niggled at him. The connection was so clear, it was almost as though she were physically touching him. And with it, came something else. A different energy.
But also familiar.
Kade. He was sensing Kade through her. Thought of the Were sent his ability lancing that way. Zach made contact—
And the contact formed a three-way bridge. From Jessie to Kade to Zach, and around again.
Zach stiffened and Storm broke stride, her ears rotating back to him. He scratched again with his fingers and sent her a pulse of reassurance.We’re okay. We’re good.
She galloped on. The three-way contact was still there. The second he reached for it—awareness.
Kade. Forging through the link. Zach called up his mental map of the area and sent it to him. Showed him where Jessie was. Where the Weres at the pit gathered. And where they were headed.
First,shock. Then,acceptance. And finally,approval.
The goal was clear. Zach kept a mental finger on the connection, but he concentrated on the ground visible between the mare’s ears. Because they were running out of path.
The trail ended at a steep two-hundred-foot slide to the gravel pit floor. A rough gravel path wound between the boulders and rocky outcroppings. Something Zach had often negotiated on foot with his horses, leading them as they slid down the loose gravel.
He sat up, preparing for Storm to halt at the top of the slope.
