The scene in my dream changed.
Outside on a dark night. A church bell tolled in the distance. Stephen walked quickly along a city street, a bundle in his arms. Every so often, he looked over his shoulder.
After a while of brisk walking, he spoke aloud, his breath white smoke in the air. “They say freezing to death is easy. You just go to sleep. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Gods forgive me—this is not what I want. But they say…”
Voices sounded in the distance, and Stephen looked around in panic. Spotting a dumpster, he slid open the door and put the bundle inside.
“It’s the best I can do. Let fate decide!” he whispered before taking off in the other direction.
Brightness blotted out the scene, and when it cleared, I saw a different place.
A crowd of people stood outside a crudely built house, some carrying large sticks like weapons. Unlike the last scene, these people were dressed from another time period. The women wore long skirts and bonnets. The men had on coats sewn out of animal skins.
“You know what he is, John Waters!” someone shouted at the door of the house. “Hand him over, now! Him and the babe!”
Even though I knew it was a dream, fear climbed up my throat.
Chapter twenty-five
Angus
“Come on, you bugger! Get!” I was doing my best to maneuver Frito, our black bull, into the next paddock, but the stubborn bastard wouldn’t budge. He was getting more and more ornery by the year. I huffed out a laugh, thinking about how just the other day Ben had compared him to me. I shook my head. That boy. I was surprised that it had been hours and he hadn’t called me to pick him up at the Borders’ ranch.
With a sigh, I tried again to wave Frito through the gate, but he only snorted at me. In my younger days, I would have waved a red bandana in front of him until he chased me through, and then I would’ve jumped the fence and slammed the gate shut. My legs weren’t what they used to be, though, and I didn’t want to risk being tossed by those long, curved horns.
Spotting Colt returning from his rounds, I waved him over.
He looked from me to the 1,600-pound bull. “Problem?”
“Hell, no, me and Frito are just standing here, wiling away the day. Thought maybe you’d like to join us.”
Colt chuckled. “I’ll get his attention.” He walked through the gate, turned around, and started waving his hands in the air. Frito didn’t move. I pulled the red bandana out of my pocket. “Think you can jump that fence before he can get to you?” I asked, holding it up.
“Of course. I could do it with my eyes closed,” Colt said confidently.
Laughing, I tied the handkerchief into a ball and tossed it to him.
“Leave them open. I don’t want two horn-shaped puncture wounds in that beautiful ass of yours.”
Cold untied the handkerchief, backed up a few feet so he was a little closer to the fence, and then waved the red piece of cotton tauntingly in the air at the bull.
For a minute I thought Frito wasn’t going to take the bait, but then he snorted loudly, lowered his head, and scraped one of his front hooves in the dirt.
Then he charged.
“Go, go, go!” I yelled at Colt as I closed the gate and locked it. Colt took off like a flash for the fence with the big bull gaining on him, barely catapulting over it before Frito attacked it with his sharp horns.
“Fuck!” Colt breathed when I reached him. “That was a little too close for comfort.”
“I’ll say.” I gave him a hand up from the ground where he’d landed.
My phone had started ringing in my pocket when Colt started running and had stopped when I reached him. Now, as Colt and I started toward the house, it started ringing again.
Seeing Ben’s name on the screen, I answered with a question. “You had enough time without your alphas yet?”
“Angus, this is David.” He sounded upset, and I stopped walking.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Why are you calling me on Ben’s phone?” A few feet ahead of me, Colt stopped and turned around.