Gretta tried to stay focused on her surroundings but struggled to put one foot in front of the other. She had truly pushed her limits further than she’d ever pushed them, and she was still exerting effort to bring in more magic to heal her tiger form. She needed to sleep, but instead, she kept her eyes on the ATV tracks in the sand and trudged along.

She saw Rowan pass overhead as a raven and was a bit jealous that she didn’t have a bird form. She imagined that gliding on the thermals would be relaxing. Not that the Wild Mother hadn’t been generous. The ability to shift into a Tiger was the most invigorating feeling one could have. She could move with speed, grace, and power, and nothing was a threat to her—nothing but a guy with a gun.

Ahead, she spotted legs sticking out across the tracks. She paused. Leaning against a large rock was a man in a dark suit. The very man who had shot her. Didn’t Rowan say his name was Jonathan? His eyes were closed, and he held a gun in his lap. She stayed perfectly still.

Gretta saw that his pant leg was pulled up and his ankle had a massive swollen bite. From the amount of swelling, she wondered if Rowan’s spider form was something prehistoric. Jonathan was still breathing, and copious amounts of drool slipped from his open mouth. Sweat streaked his face and stained his white shirt. She could see twitchy eye movements under his eyelids like he was dreaming—and those dreams weren’t pleasant.

Rowan hadn’t stopped to warn her about him, so maybe he hadn’t noticed Jonathan on the ground, or maybe he was so focused on the ATV that he hadn’t considered that Gabriela had left her own guy behind.

Gretta pulled out her phone and realized that she had no signal. They were so far into the mountains that none of the mobile carriers had bothered to worry about coverage. Seeing him lying on the ground and knowing that his own boss had left him in the desert niggled at her conscience. She hadn’t felt bad when she ambushed them, and she was even fine when Rowan dragged him onto the anthill, but she had been fresh out of a fight. She had nearly died, and a little petty vengeance felt right, but now that her adrenaline wasn’t pumping, it felt wrong.

Both Dillan and Jonathan would still kill her if they had the chance, but was she any better than them if she let them die? They both needed medical attention, but clearly, their boss wouldn’t help them. Not in time, anyway. Even if Gabriela came back in a few hours, they would both be dead after lying in the desert heat.

Sighing, she stepped off the trail so that she could sneak up behind Jonathan without giving him a clear shot at her down the trail. He looked passed out, but she wouldn’t fall for an ambush.

She crept up on him one step at a time. Each crunch of gravel or rustle of a leaf made her cringe. When she was three feet away, she rushed forward and grabbed his right arm with both hands, knocking the gun free.

Sneaking turned out to be completely unnecessary. He didn’t wake or even twitch.

She did a quick check of his pockets and found the same type of zip ties that Dillan had had in his pocket. She quickly bound his wrists together, but not his legs. She figured that he wasn’t likely to get up in his current state and wasn’t much of a threat. Binding his hands was a minimum precaution while she searched him for more weapons. She found a pocket knife and a phone.

She considered using magic to attempt to heal him. She decided that it wasn’t worth the risk of passing out in the desert and giving the man who had already shot her once the strength to finish the job he hadn’t finished earlier and potentially even the strength to chase Sofia. Gretta was compassionate but not stupid.

Stolen novel; please report.

She pocketed his knife and then activated the emergency call option on the phone. Even without a cell tower, the phone would use a satellite.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“I found this guy in the desert. It looks like he’s been bitten by something. He might be dying.”

“Does he have a pulse?”

“Weak pulse, unconscious, looks like a nasty bite on his leg. You need to hurry.”

“What’s your location?” the operator asked.

“Somewhere in the desert west of Marana,” she said. “Can’t you track this call by GPS?”

“We can, but it’s not always accurate. The more precise the location, the better.”

“Look, I gotta go. You should send an ambulance. There are two guys out here. The other guy was pretty bashed up. He was maybe a mile back toward the road.”

“Please stay there and on the line until help arrives,” the operator said.

“Sorry, can’t do that,” Gretta said. “Both guys were armed with guns, and I’m not staying with them. Follow the ATV tracks. You should find them. Two men. Black suits. Both unconscious. Hurry.”

She used her shirt to wipe her prints off the phone and the gun, then walked away, leaving the phone in Jonathan’s lap and the weapon in a small desert bush. She could hear the faint voice of the operator saying, “Ma’am, are you there? Ma’am?”

Help might not get to them in time, but her conscience felt better knowing she had tried to save them. Somehow, the encounter with Jonathan had recharged her. She figured it was a fresh shot of adrenaline and that she’d crash again soon, but she used her newfound alertness to pick up her pace and trudge on.

Three gunshots rang through the desert. They were somewhere ahead in the distance, and while Gretta couldn’t judge the distance, they sounded like they might be in the vicinity of where she’d expect to find Gabriela.

She heard the distant whine of the ATV’s engine as it picked up speed and moved away from her.

She tried to imagine what happened. If Rowan had a gun, wouldn’t he have used it in the fight with Gabriela? He was a spider at the start of that fight, and maybe there was no time to shift and use it. Was he the type to have a gun? He was the type to put honey in your underwear drawer, but he didn’t seem like the type to shoot somebody. Of course, she didn’t honestly know him. If he had taken Gabriela’s ATV, wouldn’t he be heading back for her? Or would he head right after Miguel? He couldn’t track Miguel as a human, so he seemed unlikely to drive away from her. To the best of her knowledge, he was a disciple of the Trickster god, and he could have just decided to abandon her and Sofia. Tricksters weren’t known for being helpful or dependable.

Even as she forced herself into a jog, she cursed at no-good, stupid, bird-brained tricksters. The heat of the day was becoming oppressive under the beating sun. The wind felt good, but it brought dust that stung her eyes and left her feeling parched. Before long, her throat ached from breathing as much dirt as air.

Fifteen minutes later, she found black feathers on the ground. Raven feathers? There were some dark spots on the ground. Drops of blood? Two dozen more feet ahead, she saw skid marks as if the ATV had swerved. On the ground were three brass bullet casings glinting in the sun.

She spotted dog paw prints in the sand. They were indistinct, but she knew Gabriela had a dog with her, and Gretta had spotted the tracks intermittently since the fight. The paw prints ran off the path to her right, and she followed. The tracks eventually became a muddled mess. The dog had been digging at a badger hole. Gretta knelt and looked into the hole; deeper in, she spotted a raven. The small hole was too dark to see if his eyes were open, but he wasn’t moving.

“Rowan?” she asked. “Gabriela is gone. Come out and shift.”

The raven remained motionless and silent.