“It wasn’t in the fire?”
He strode to the lake, stepping neatly over the prone forms of the coyotes. Were they really dead? I couldn’t detect any breathing, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t start. However, Sawyer didn’t appear concerned that they might suddenly heal all their wounds and try to kill us again, so I decided not to borrow trouble. I had enough without it.
Sawyer dived in. The splash and trickle lured me. I began to crawl in that direction.
“What are you doing?” Sawyer stood hip deep, lifting water and splashing his chest, rubbing his arms, loosening the dried blood and dirt.
“I need to wash.”
“Walk.”
“But my—” 1 paused, frowned, then glanced at the leg the coyote had mauled. It appeared to be healing at warp speed.
I scrambled backward, as if to distance myself from the bizarrely knitting thing, but it was part of me and followed. I twisted, trying to see the wound on my shoulder where the first coyote had bitten me. I was too covered in blood to tell for certain, but I thought that one was completely gone.
“What the hell?” I whispered.
“Shape-shifters aren’t easy to kill.” His voice was matter-of-fact. He wasn’t telling me anything I hadn’t heard before, except—
“When did I become a shape-shifter?” “Last night,” he said simply, and ducked beneath the surface of the lake.
First things first; I joined him. My mind wasn’t working quite right. I kept catching scents that distracted me. Blood, death, coyotes. How long was that going to last?
I had a lot of questions. I just couldn’t seem to keep one of them in my head for more than an instant. So I dived into the chilly lake, keeping my distance from Sawyer. I had no doubt he was the source of this change in me. I wasn’t going to let him get close enough to change me again.
By the time I’d washed all evidence of the battle from my body, Sawyer had dragged the coyotes into the trees. I wondered momentarily why, then decided I didn’t care as long as they were gone.
I climbed out of the water and used the towel he’d discarded; the dampness on the cloth that he’d rubbed all over his naked body made me tingle. I couldn’t stop remembering the things I’d done with him, things I’d believed to be a dream but knew now to be real.
I felt less scattered, more myself. Although yesterday I never would have walked around camp stark naked, today it didn’t matter. Sawyer had seen all of me, touched all of me too. What did I have to hide? Nevertheless, I went into the hogan and donned my last set of mountain attire.
When I came out, he’d started a fire; this time the flames burned yellow, red, and orange, no rainbow connection. I didn’t smell anything but wood and meat. He’d donned his breechclout again, then skinned the rabbit and now roasted it on a spit.
“Are they dead?” I asked. Not the most important question, but one I could handle.
Sawyer nodded, staring into the flames, turning the rabbit spit slowly.
“They can’t heal? Like… us?”
He shook his head.
“But they’re shifters.”
“One of the ways to kill a shifter is a fight to the death with another shifter. The wounds don’t heal.”
“Ours did.”
“Because we shifted shape, which accelerates the healing process; when you’re dead, you can’t shift.”
My gaze wandered over him. “How is it that your tattoos don’t heal?” I asked.
“They weren’t made by a human wielding a needle, but by a sorcerer who wielded lightning.”
“They’re magic tattoos,” I clarified.
He glanced up; the hair casting over his face did nothing to hide his wry expression. “Obviously.”
Since his explanation of magic tattoos actually made sense, I moved on.
“I still don’t understand why we couldn’t just blast the coyote shifters with silver like Jimmy and I did with the werewolves in Hardeyville.” Besides the fact that we’d left all our weapons at home. That decision looked stupider by the minute. But it hadn’t been my decision.
Sawyer’s lips tightened when I said Jimmy’s name, but for once he answered my question. “These weren’t werewolves. They were coyote shifters.”
I threw up my hands. “So?”
“Werewolves are people who can turn into wolves. Coyote shifters are coyotes that can take human form.”
That made me pause. I hadn’t considered the shifting might work both ways.
“They were born animals and learned to walk as humans?”
“Cursed to walk.”
“Cursed,” I repeated.
“By a witch.”
“You?”
He sent me a disgusted glance before returning his attention to the rabbit. “I’m not the only witch in the world, Phoenix.”
“Why would walking as a human be a curse?”
“Why wouldn’t it?” he muttered.
I frowned. “Explain the powers of a coyote shifter.”