“You think?” Naomi screamed as the bear slammed its paws into the driver-side window. Glass shattered and cold air poured in.
The bear suddenly howled and went down when a huge, tawny-colored beast jumped on it. A wolf? Naomi wondered as the two animals rolled away. Could this get any worse?
A moment later she wished she hadn’t thought that. Another mountain lion bounded out of the woods, this one nearly twice Jamison’s size. He was snarling, foam flecking his red mouth. The bear with Jamison backed off, and the two mountain lions met with a crash and a wildcat scream.
The bear hovered outside the fight, breath steaming in the air. He was watching like a referee, his head moving back and forth as the two combatants wrestled and strug
gled.
“Jamison,” Naomi sobbed.
The broken window darkened, and Naomi whipped her head around to see the man who called himself Coyote standing next to her, stark naked and breathing hard. Gone was the man who wandered Magellan’s streets and teased tourists, who smiled at Julie and signed to her. His eyes were yellow and glittering, his lips pulled back from pointed canines.
“Get out,” Coyote said to Naomi. He yanked open the door and unlocked her seat belt himself, pulling her out by the arm. The bear that had been attacked lay still, groaning, the snow stained red around it.
“If you stay in there, they’ll crush the truck,” Coyote said.
“If I’m out here, they’ll crush me.”
Coyote ripped the tarp from her truck bed and pulled out a shotgun, one she hadn’t put there.
He thrust the gun into her shaking arms. “You know how to use this?”
Naomi nodded, hands automatically moving to hold the gun in a safe position.
“Good. Defend yourself. Shoot to kill, because they’ll kill you if you don’t.”
He turned away, not seeming to notice the cold and snow, even though he was bare-ass naked. He threw back his head and let out a ferocious howl. Then he started running at the second bear, morphing into a beast as he went.
He was bigger than a wolf, huge and muscled, but his face was pointed and foxlike. A coyote’s face.
The second bear roared, turning to meet the threat, and both went down in a tangle of limbs. Jamison was still fighting the other mountain lion, the two cats springing apart to circle each other before slamming together again.
Naomi charged around the truck, the shotgun cradled in her arms. She cocked it and sighted, but she couldn’t shoot for fear of hitting Jamison.
Wind suddenly howled down the highway, stirring up the drifts. The sky darkened with impossible speed and snow started to fly. The driving flakes stung Naomi’s cheeks, and white clouded her vision. The red truck was ten paces away from her, but in a matter of seconds, she could barely see it.
The bear that Coyote had already wounded struggled to its feet behind her. Naomi swung around and aimed at it, but it morphed into a human man and stumbled toward the truck. He leaned heavily against the hood, blood streaming from his shoulder.
Naomi moved toward him, still aiming the gun. “I called nine-one-one,” she yelled. “You just stay right there.”
The man gazed at her like he hadn’t heard. He had black hair and eyes so dark she saw them through the whirling snow. “There’s sorcery in this,” he said with a harsh accent. “Are you doing sorcery?”
“The only sorcery I have is right here.” Naomi sighted down the barrel to make her point.
“If you are not, then . . . ” The man’s eyes widened in horror and he stared past Naomi at the fight between Jamison and the other mountain lion. “He’s doing it. He’s a sorcerer. Shoot him! Shoot him, now!”
Did he mean Jamison? Or the second cat? Naomi swung around and looked over the gun at the mountain lions. But they were locked together, Jamison’s ears flat against his head.
A few feet from them, Coyote morphed into a man, lifted the bear he fought, and threw it to the ground.
The man next to Naomi emitted a moan of distress and started for the fallen bear. To Naomi’s astonishment, the bear on the ground morphed into a woman with tangled dark hair. She lay still, her arm bent at an unnatural angle.
Unperturbed, Coyote walked back to Naomi as the man fell to his knees beside the woman. Coyote was a huge man, easily six and a half feet tall with bulging muscles filling out his body. He had the dark skin of a Native American, long black hair, and black dark eyes. His face had a flat look, as if his nose had once been broken, maybe in a biker bar?
Coyote put his hands on his hips, watching the mountain lions fight. Jamison was going to lose. Naomi’s heart thumped as the larger cat drew claws along Jamison’s side and bright red streaks erupted on Jamison’s fur.
“Do something!” she screamed at Coyote.