17 Bullets: becoming the Werewolf Queen

Chapter 22: Missed

Darting the scope around at any slight leaf sway in the breeze, after a few minutes of nothing, I began to relax, but my gun was set and ready. Thann did have jerky left from the indezawo whatever dragon thing, but a nice roast chicken might make a good meal.

Setting the scope on him and laying the butt of the gun firmly in the pocket of my shoulder, I tensed. It already pulled on my wound enough to bring a sneer to my face. The kickback from a fire was going to be a witch, but I better deal with it and try on the little guy instead of waiting and worrying about what it would be against a panda or something worse.

A breath blew out as I timed the fire.

The trigger was pressed.

34 BULLETS

Two things happened.

I missed.

And the kickback nearly suffocated me with its scalding blow. My gun dropped to the ground and I cried out in anguish, grabbing the affected area.

My eyes pressed tight and teeth set in a bone breaking hold as I tried to keep in the pain. Breathing through my teeth was only a marginal help as I wailed.

But I couldn't decide which hurt worse.

I completely missed. It had been six years since I missed that close of a stationary target. This wound had done a number on holding my arm still.

Next thing I know a giant grey werewolf was crashing through the trees and on top of me, huffing like the big bad wolf.

"Holy!" I screamed and forgot about my arm careening back into the rock with shock. Then I hollered out in pain again as the jagged edge sandpapered my shoulder.

The large wolf's head zipped around to check the clearing and once was certain nothing was there, intelligent brown eyes set on me. The wolf shimmered for a flash. Suddenly Thann was over me, pantsless beside some dangling Tarzan cloth.

"Holy." I said again, but this time for a completely different reason.

"El? Hurt?" He bent and palmed down my hair.

"Uh... yeahwhat?" I tried not to stare. I couldn't see his package, but he was assuredly well endowed and right in front of me.

When my oh-so-obvious fumbling became apparent to him, he chuckled and stood, reaching into his pouch and unwrapped his pants. He placed them back on and then tightened and cleared his throat as if he just remembered he was not supposed to be playful anymore.

With the distraction put away, I remembered my shoulder and hiccuped the hurt. My other hand pressed into the area to ease the burn.

"Shoulder hurt?" He bent back and pulled me from the rock, placing his warm hand over my shoulder blade. As soon as he did the pain dulled.

I closed my eyes in relief and hunched forward giving him better access.

He stilled for a moment and then stood, taking with him my relief.

"Wait," I called in hopelessness.

He rummaged around his pack and brought out a leather pouch. With a pour of water into it, he stirred the substance with his finger and then poured it into his hand. It was a dark green colored paste.

"Is that the heal leaves?" I asked as he slid the paste over my back. I tensed at the coldness, but was soon lulled into relaxation when his medical hand turned into a massage hand.

He smoothed over my muscles and deep into tissues following patterns like I had done to him one night in a tree. Oh, it was heavenly, warm large hands hitting all the right spots and easing the tension away from so many nights without a bed and walking for days.

I leaned forward allowing him all the access he wanted and was even tempted to undo my bra strap. But I was sure he wouldn't like that, so I tried to just feel the glorious moment.

When he sat back before I was ready for him to be done, I looked over piteously and signed. More?

All done.

I pointed to my leg and pouted. "But my leg hurts too."

He smiled that grin, the one that said I was being irritational and chucked my shirt back at me. "Shoulders."

Sighing, I placed the shirt over my head and adjusted it slowly over the paste on my back. "Better Dothraki?"

And then he put his hands on my leg. He rubbed up and town, palming over my jeans and making up his own massage technique. My head fell back against the rock and I made a growl of appreciation when he rolled over a particularly sore spot.

He stopped, hands stilling around my thigh.

"No, it's okay. It's really good. Like, Like. No hurt. Keep going please." Without looking up, I placed my hands over his. "Please."

His hands continued their kneading, like he was painting a piece of art. He worked so tenderly and so thoroughly, one would think he'd been trained.

"Thann, so good." I whispered to the sky.

When he went up and down my first leg, he moved over to the next and I was all but a pool of melted jelly next to a rock. My breathing was deep and low and he kept pushing me into some different dimension.

I probably was nearly asleep when his hands came off me and he murmured, "El?"

"Yeah," I mumbled back.

The snapping sound of a smile brought my eyes open and a yawn to my chest.

Good. I smiled and stretched through my fingers.

He was grinning a sunny smile. "No hurt?"

I moved my foot around a bit and twisted at my knee and hip. "It's lots better, thanks."

He looked at the rifle beside me. "Ear. Umdumo wokuduma kwezulu? Meat?"

"Oh, you mean did I kill anything?" I grabbed the rifle across me.

"Kill."

I looked down at the metal and bit my lip. "No. No meat. I missed." I ranted to myself. "I can't believe I missed! It was such an easy target! Completely still and barely far away at all." My eyes met Thann's pathetically and I made my admittance. "I missed. No meat. Shoulder hurt."

"No kill."

"Yeah. But hey?" I tried to look on the bright side. "At least nothing ate me. It was just a chicken."

"El eat?"

"Uh, I guess I am a little hungry. Yes."

He nodded once and went to his pack for a snack.