“You sense it, don’t you? We’re being watched. Maybe stalked.”

Niko Fox’s Doberman didn’t acknowledge her. Instead, Chinook continued walking ahead of her on the narrow, packed dirt road. Towering Douglas firs, alders, dogwoods, ferns and ground-hugging bushes surrounded the pair and Misty, the pinto gelding Niko was riding bareback.

As much time as Niko spent in southern Oregon’s coastal woods, she usually sensed when deer or other animals were watching her, but this was different. More intense. She straightened and studied the vegetation ahead and on both sides. The road led to Dogwood, a remote and rarely used campground. She hadn’t seen any signs of recent tire tracks or shoe prints and would have known if she didn’t have this part of the Siskiyou Forest to herself.

Of course, the watcher-stalker might not be human.

“Do you smell anything?” she asked the silent, self-contained, nearly hundred-pound Doberman. “Something that doesn’t fit?”

Chinook set her legs and studied her. Because the dog was deep in shadow, Niko could barely make out the mostly black body. If Chinook left the narrow strip where sunlight reached, she wouldn’t stand a chance of finding her. However, she and Chinook were bonded, had been since she’d found the skinny puppy at the local animal shelter.

“You’re walking slower than earlier and you’re holding your head high. What’s going on, girl?”

By way of response, Chinook headed to the right, stopping when she reached the edge of the road where vines threatened to cover what was manmade. Chinook stood tall in that tiptoe way Dobermans had, her ears alert and hackles raised. Niko touched the knife at her waist with her right hand. Judging by how Misty was prancing, Niko surmised the horse had either picked up on Chinook’s uneasiness or he too had sensed something that didn’t fit.

“Maybe we’re gone far enough,” Niko told her companions. “We don’t need to see the campground, after all.”

Chinook continued her study of the vegetation. Niko couldn’t blame the dog for reacting as she had. After all, Chinook understood her human’s need for movement, her inability to sit still, the deep restlessness.

If a human or humans had been close enough that they could hear, they might’ve picked up on the tension in her voice. The damage had been done. Darn it, she should have brought her pistol. Considering what had happened not far from here a few months ago, she was crazy to try to convince herself that life had gone back to what it had been before—

No. She wasn’t going to go there now.

“What do you see?” she asked Chinook. “Tell me what, if anything, you’re hearing and smelling?”

Chinook didn’t acknowledge her presence. Misty shook his head and his breathing had gotten louder. Damn it, the Siskiyou Forest has always been a place of peace. It shouldn’t change.

But it had.

“We’ve gone nearly five miles,” she pointed out unnecessarily. “Time to pack it in.”

Chinook responded, if that was what it was, by growling. Niko couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard that sound from the creature she understood better than she did most humans.

“Come back. You’ve told me all I need to hear. If there’s a cougar or wolf…”

Wolf? Or a huge, gray dog? Maybe more than one.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose and her belly clenched. She struggled to stay in the present, but what her best friend Mia Sandas had experienced threatened to envelop her. There’d been enough death and violence around here.

“I’m serious. Time to leave.”

Chinook’s growl continued, a long, echoing note barely loud enough for Niko to hear. Misty continued to prance, forcing Niko to concentrate on preventing the horse from bolting. Cougar, wolf, or killer gray dog. Did it really matter which it was?

“I want you alive, got it? Get away from the edge. Come back to me. Please.”

Misty’s hooves drummed the ground. The gelding reared and thudded back to earth. Niko remained seated while second-guessing her decision not to saddle her horse. Just because she was a full-blooded Tillamook Indian didn’t mean she could take horsemanship for granted. It wasn’t as if she spent many of her waking hours with a horse under her.

To her relief, Chinook started backing away from the forest’s edge. The dog’s hindquarters dropped, which made her appear vulnerable, submissive. Instead of returning to her human, however, Chinook trotted to the middle of the road. Judging by how she kept turning her head, whatever she’d noted was moving to the right. Chinook swiveled in that direction. Her teeth were exposed and she drooled, signs of nervousness. Niko again strained to see what held the dog’s attention, but Misty wasn’t making it easy.

Niko planted a hand on the side of Misty’s neck. “Easy, easy. You’re all right. I won’t let anything hurt you.” Unless it comes after me.

There were too damn many shadows and too little sunlight. The vegetation closed in on her. Even if she reached it, the small campground offered no security, just an outhouse and two picnic tables. There was only one thing to do—go back the way she’d come.

If she could get dog and horse to agree with her.

Chinook yipped and dropped to her haunches. She stared behind Niko. Knowing she had no choice, Niko forced herself to do the same. There was something in the road where she’d been a few minutes ago. Two somethings. Taller than Chinook, with broad shoulders, large fangs and stances that said they’d claimed the road.

Gray. The damned beasts were monochrome in color, the hair so short that their muscularity was on full display.

Niko couldn’t swallow. Could barely breathe.

Mia, the grays have found me. I don’t know what they want but—hell, I’m scared.

She’d first become aware of the massive dogs’ existence when Mia had shown her the pictures she’d taken of them on Dark Mountain north of here. The photographs had been beyond impressive, but that was nothing compared to seeing the silent beasts in the flesh.

Shaking, Niko turned Misty so they faced the dogs. Misty held her head so high Niko couldn’t get a clear view of the intruders. They weren’t acting aggressively, but they didn’t need to. Just their presence was enough. As long as they claimed that part of the road, she was trapped in the wilderness.

“What do you want?” She didn’t recognize her voice. “I haven’t done anything—I’m armed. You make a move and I’ll kill you.”

The smaller of the two dogs lifted her upper lip in what might have been a smile. Was it possible the beast knew she was bluffing? As long as there was this much distance between them, a knife was useless.

“I’ll leave. This is your turf? Is that it? I blundered where I shouldn’t have?”

The dogs’ stances put her in mind of palace guards. They didn’t want her to pass, but that didn’t make sense. Why had they let her come this far? Shouldn’t they have already chased her off?

Seconds marched by. Misty still trembled but was no longer trying to bolt. As a result, Niko was no longer consumed simply with survival but was starting to put a few pieces of the puzzle together.

Back when the big gray dogs had initially shown up and exacted their brand of punishment on several men, Mia’s now boyfriend Jeff Julian had researched them. The ranger had learned they’d first played judge and jury in a community several hundred miles east. Their motivation was starkly simple, direct and inescapable. Somehow they knew when a human abused an animal or animals. The guilty were punished, usually fatally. Why the avengers had decided this area needed them was beside the point.

“I’ve never harmed an animal.” She hurried the words. “At least not knowingly. Where have you been since—what do you want of me?”

A sigh to her left had her looking down. Without Niko being aware of it, Chinook had moved to within inches of Misty’s hooves. Chinook stared at the grays, her hackles no longer raised. Instead, her tail slowly moved from side to side. The larger gray’s tail did the same.

“What’s going on between you two? You’re communicating—Chinook, you think we aren’t in danger?”

Even with her grandfather giving her a grounding in their heritage, her life had been rooted in reality until the day Mia had come across a snow-white bull elk, a wounded cow elk, and her helpless calf. Not long after, Niko, Mia, Jeff, Jeff’s partner Darick Creech, and others had been given undeniable proof of what the gray dogs were capable of. Since then, Niko had been open to what she called ‘woo-woo experiences’ but she’d never expected anything like this. Looking at the two beasts overloaded her mind. 

“What do you want?” she whispered.

The pair started toward her. They weren’t aggressive so much as dominant. Whatever they wanted of her, it didn’t include letting her head home. It was early afternoon, which meant she had hours before she had to contend with night. However, no one knew she was here.

The way the duo approached reminded her of cowboys preparing to herd livestock. As she saw it, their intention was to force her to go where they wanted—specifically, toward the campground.

“What’s there?” She still couldn’t do more than whisper. “If this is a trap—”

Before she could finish, Chinook started inching toward the larger gray. As she fought the urge to command, or try to command, her dog to stay where she was safe—if she was—she concentrated on the big beast. He was male, intact.

Thank goodness Chinook wasn’t in heat, but maybe the gray didn’t care. He’d drive the Doberman to the ground and force her to submit. Maybe that’s what all this was about. The grays didn’t give a damn about her.

Chinook had had one litter, a planned pregnancy using another Doberman. Niko had loved watching the three tiny pups grow old enough to be adopted by local families and had been on the fence about having Chinook neutered. As she watched the gray and Doberman touch noses, she vowed to have her dog fixed. The last thing she wanted or needed was an unplanned pregnancy, especially when the male was a killer.

However, instead of trying to get Chinook to return to her, she watched as the male gray thoroughly sniffed Chinook. He didn’t try to mount her.

“She won’t run away with you. She likes regular meals too much.”

The comment about regular meals caught her attention. From what Jeff had learned about the grays, there’d initially been three, but one had been shot and killed. The trio had been hand-raised, which meant they probably didn’t have hunting instincts. Despite that, the two she was trying to wrap her mind around were well-fed, probably because the wolf-dog that ran with them was supplying them with meat on a regular basis.

Chinook was still smelling her admirer when he and the female with him again started toward Niko. Their steps were measured, confident. They intended to make her go somewhere specific. She could either refuse to do so—and risk being torn apart—or let them have their way.

* * * *

Some fifteen minutes later, Niko, Misty and Chinook reached the small campground. There was a weathered outhouse with moss on the roof, two rotting wooden picnic tables and a rock-lined footpath that led to a seasonal creek. It appeared that no one had been there in a long time.

Misty was still nervous, requiring more of Niko’s attention. In contrast, Chinook calmly walked alongside Misty while frequently looking behind her at their herders. As for the grays, as long as she headed where they wanted her to go, their expressions were neutral, almost friendly. However, every time she made Misty stop, which she’d done several times to see what would happen, the dogs had pressed their agenda by coming close enough to make the horse rear and snort.

This was the end of the road. There was nowhere to go, unless she was willing to plunge into the wilderness. Feeling much older than her thirty-one years, she faced the two dogs. This is real, no denying it.

“Now what? I’ve done what you ordered.”

The duo touched noses. Then the female came to within a few feet of a nervous-again Misty. The gray was obviously trying to make her understand something. Niko was tempted to dismount and extend her hand, but caution kept her on horseback.

After a few seconds, the female gray turned and walked to the edge of the small clearing. The male joined her, both dogs staring intently. The ground dropped there, a semi-gentle slope mostly hidden by vegetation. Niko wished she knew what she was supposed to be seeing.

Then she heard it.

The sound was so faint that at first she mistook it for nothing more than the forest’s offerings. Then she realized she was listening to a horse’s high whinny.

“What…?”

Head tilted and concentrating, she strained to hear more than birds, insects, the creek and the wind. The way her heart raced, she should’ve been certain she was listening to what the grays had brought her here for, but it wasn’t that simple. The sound was barely audible, as if the horse responsible for it was reaching the end of its strength. She didn’t want to see what was wrong with it—and obviously something was—but she couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t.

“This is why you brought me here, isn’t it? There’s something…”

There was nothing more to say, no way of putting off what had to be done. She’d never seriously wanted to go in search of her spirit guide, had only participated in a handful of ceremonies because that’s what her grandfather wanted, but this afternoon she’d have given anything to have something she could depend on.

The whinny repeated, no stronger than it had been the first time. As tears threatened, Niko dismounted and ground-tied Misty. Even though she wasn’t sure Chinook would obey, she pointed at the ground and told her to stay.

She could only hope the grays wouldn’t startle Misty so much he’d bolt. After assuring herself that her knife was still at her waist, she pushed through the ferns and bushes until she reached the barely trickling creek. She felt the grays’ gazes along her spine but didn’t check behind her. Neither did she question what she was doing. She had no choice. This thing was bigger than her.

The slope right ahead of her was steep but short, making it necessary for her to watch every step while holding on to bushes to keep from falling. She was questioning her decision to try to leave her dog behind but was afraid Chinook’s presence would frighten the unseen horse. Another whinny, sounding defeated, kept her going. The thick vegetation was confined to the immediate area around the campsite. She was moving into more open territory, fortunately with a gentler slope.

She stopped and shielded her eyes. There were still plenty of Douglas firs and a handful of alders, but for the most part the thick ferns and prickly bushes had given way to ground cover. She wondered if those who came to the campsite bothered to travel this far or believed they were surrounded by rainforest and didn’t venture beyond the so-called improvements. She entertained the fantasy that she’d stepped into virgin territory, a place no other human had ever seen. However, for all she knew, she wasn’t far from the farmland that dominated much of the county.

Yet another whinny. Worn out and thin.

“I’m coming. Call out again. Let me know where you are.”

Less than five minutes later, Niko found what she’d been looking for without knowing it. The Douglas firs and alders were still present, albeit even fewer in number, the ground nearly level with sunlight reaching the earth and the wind whispering.

A small, emaciated roan mare stood at the end of a rope attached to her halter. The other end was tangled around a bush. Her head was down, her legs widespread. Niko saw every rib, the scraggly mane, the weed-tangled tail. The mare was so done in Niko expected her to collapse at any moment. If she did, that would be the end of her unless Niko could get her up again, which would take a superhuman effort.

“Oh, baby, what are you doing here?”

On the verge of tears, she slowly approached the poor animal. The mare’s mouth was open, her lower lip hanging. Her hooves were overgrown and ragged but that wasn’t what concerned Niko the most. The mare’s eyes were glazed over as if she’d given up. Niko had to force herself to run her fingers over the bony flank. The mare barely reacted.

“Who did this to you? What are you doing here?”

Fighting revulsion, she forced herself to continue to examine the trapped animal. Frayed as the end of the rope was, she wondered if the mare had broken free of an earlier tether. As for what she was doing in the wilderness—it made no sense unless they were closer to civilization than she realized. That was possible. After all, there were any number of small farms and ranches tucked into the valleys. None were what she’d call prosperous, mostly people trying to support themselves by raising crops or keeping livestock.

“There’s hardly any grass here,” Niko pointed out, even though the mare must’ve known that. “Did something frighten you? You panicked and…”

Second-guessing the mare’s actions wasn’t getting her anywhere. As depleted as the creature was, it would have been a simple matter for the grays or wolf-dog to kill this sad source of protein. Instead the grays had directed Niko here—why? Because they hoped she could accomplish what they couldn’t?

They saw her as the mare’s rescuer?

First things first. Nothing was going to happen as long as the mare was anchored to the spot. Anger fought with compassion as she pulled out her knife and sawed through the rope where it was wrapped around a bush. At first the mare didn’t react. Then she slowly lifted her head and whinnied.

“You’re welcome. Feels good, doesn’t—?”

A second whinny, a squeal almost not far away silenced her. She’d heard that sound before—from foals.

“My god.” She crouched so she could see between the mare’s hind legs. A slightly swollen bag dangled. “You’ve given birth.”

As the mare turned in the direction the new sound had come from, Niko debated severing what was left of the rope to lessen the risk of the mare tripping on it, but she might need it to lead the animal away from here. However, that wasn’t what mattered right now.

“Speak to me,” she implored the hidden foal. “Where are you, little one?”

She didn’t need to have asked, since the mare’s uneven movements made it clear she had a goal. The new mother slowly stepped over downed branches and rocks as if she knew not to trust her strength. Much as she wanted to assure the mare that she was here to help, Niko tried to make herself as unobtrusive as possible so not to distract her new charge.

Here the ground reminded Niko of gentle ocean waves. At least there weren’t any steep slopes which might be more than the mare in her weakened state could handle. The grays might have followed her. She should’ve looked, to be sure, but she didn’t want to take her attention off the mare, who was continuing her single-minded journey. Deer often left their fawns in order to search for food, but that didn’t explain why the mare had, in essence, abandoned her child.

It didn’t matter. She was returning to him or her now.

When the mare whinnied again, Niko strained to hear a response, but there was none. Weak as the one sound had been, it was possible the foal had died.

No! She wouldn’t let herself believe that.