It would be impossible to go back up over the island without running into the mercenaries, and in all honesty she wasn't even sure if she could find the way in the dark. But, she thought, going along the side—as close to the water as she dared, just above the constant roil and hiss of the surf—should get her to the sea cave just as surely.
That terrible scramble through the darkness would live on forever in her nightmares. She could see nothing in the darkness, having to go by feel alone, clinging to trees to keep her balance on the island's steep slope. Above her, flashlights flickered through the trees; below, surf pounded against the rocks. Once in a while the spotlight strobed over her, and then she had no choice but to cling to a tree and hold perfectly still, trying not to be seen. Worse, the brief flashes of intensely bright light showed her exactly what was beneath her, which was a sheer drop of about twenty or thirty feet into deep, churning water.
She found the sea cave by almost falling into it. Gasping, she felt her way deeper into the crack in the rocks. Her groping fingers found the stub of candle that Dane had shown her, with a lighter beside it. She struck a light just long enough to look around and ensure that she was in the right place, and then let it go out.
In that brief glimpse, she had seen no sign of Dane. He wasn't here either.
Mira tucked the candle and lighter into her pocket and crept deeper into the cave. At the sound of voices somewhere outside, she froze and tried to be as quiet as possible, hoping the crashing of the waves would cover any noises she might make.
As she stood in the utter darkness of the cave, her eyes began to adjust enough that she could make out a tall, narrow block of slightly lighter sky that marked the cave entrance. Every once in a while, a light strobed across it, either the helicopter's searchlight or the sweep of a flashlight beam as the mercenaries searched the island.
But the light never shone into the cave, and Mira began gradually to relax. Dane had been right, she thought; this crack in the rocks was so well hidden that it was next to impossible to stumble across except by pure chance.
Then she heard a sound she couldn't understand. It was a wet snuffling, like something smelling its way around the outside of the cave.
Dogs?she thought.Could they have brought dogs?But she had seen no sign of kennels or dogs being lowered from the helicopter. And it sounded huge, like no dog she had ever heard of.
Then abruptly the faint light from the mouth of the cave was blocked. Mira couldn't see what it was; all she could see that it was filling almost the entire cave entrance. She could hear heavy breathing, followed by a low growl.
I have to know what I'm dealing with,she thought, her hands trembling.
She brought out the lighter and struck a flame.
The light glinted off the red glow of a pair of eyes, nearly as high above the floor of the cave as her own. Dull teeth gleamed in a massive muzzle as the lips curled back.
Mira tried to stifle the scream that rose in her throat. What emerged was a strangled squeak.
There was a bear pressing into the mouth of the cave, the biggest bear she'd ever seen.
So much for there being no large wild animals on this island, Dane!
After her initial surge of terror, she began to calm down. As terrifying as it was to be this close to a bear—an actual bear! how!—there was no way it could squeeze its great bulk into the back of the cave where she was. Even its massive paws probably couldn't reach her. And hadn't she heard somewhere that wild animals were afraid of fire?
She touched the lighter's flame to the candle wick until it flared up. Then she waved it at the bear.
"Go away," she whispered, afraid to speak too loudly for fear of being overheard.
The bear went nowhere. In fact, something impossible happened.
It began to shrink and lose its fur. As Mira stared in shock and confusion, the bear dwindled to a large, muscular man she had never seen before. He had a military haircut and enough scars to make it clear that he had led a rough and often brutal life.
He was completely naked except for a harness made of large black straps which must have been wrapped around him as a bear, because now it hung loosely from his muscular human body. There was a gun on it, and he snatched it from his holster and pointed it at her.
"Hi there, ma'am," he said. "You're coming with us. We have some questions to ask you."
DANE
Dane's bodyfelt horribly sluggish for the swim back to the island, wallowing through the water where normally it would have glided without effort. His oxygen-starved muscles didn't want to cooperate, but he forced them, with his orca as a willing participant. They both wanted to get back to the island, and to Mira, as quickly as possible.
I should have stayed, I should never have left ...
But he knew there was no point in beating himself up about it. He couldn't reasonably have stayed with her at every moment. It was only raw bad luck that when enemies finally came, they had come when he wasn't there.
And he had little doubt that this was the event he had feared. There were other reasons why a helicopter might be flying along the coast at night, but none he could think of that would cause it to hover above his island. He could see it from a distance, the brilliant glare of the spotlight quartering the island, while the thumping of its rotors and engine ruffled the water around him.
How had they found him? All he could think of was Mira's emergency beacon. But it wasn't necessarily that. It was possible they had been doing surveillance for some time. He had tried to be as wary as possible of boats and flying vehicles, but this was a group with shifters at their disposal. He might have had a pod of dolphins or a flock of seagulls watching him for weeks and reporting back.
There was no need to figure it out now. How they got here was irrelevant. What mattered was that they were here—and so was Mira.
