Chasing ember, p.1
Chasing Ember, page 1
Chasing Ember
Mandi Konesni
Copyright © 2023 by Liliom Press
Cover Design by GetCovers
All rights reserved
ISBN-13: 978-1-946021-11-3
This one goes out to my mom and dad. They taught me to always stand up for myself, my beliefs, and my principles. To never stop fighting if I believed someone needed help. To be the bigger person, to remain on the side of what’s good and right. My parents taught me morals and values, to be myself even when the world didn’t accept me for who I was. They’ve always been my biggest supporters and my loudest cheerleaders. They showed me what true love looks like, and that fairy tales do exist. When I write? I write about a love like theirs. I love you, Mom and Dad. Thank you for always believing in me, even when I couldn’t believe in myself.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
About The Author
Other Releases
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Davi stretched languidly, the morning sun warming his back. Jaws opened wide as he yawned, then dropped down from the tree limb he’d been sprawled on, landing on four paws in the dirt. The jaguar loved this part of the day... the smaller critters were just beginning to stir, birds calling through the trees. He missed Bolivia, where he’d grown up, but Oregon hadn’t turned out to be too bad so far.
At twenty-six, Davi hadn’t had a lot of prospects there. Estranged from his sister, his choices had been dead-end jobs or cartels. Neither interested him, so he’d trained in wildfire management to control the destruction of the rain forests from logging. It still didn’t pay well, but at least he felt like he was doing something worthwhile. That, and it gave him an excuse to run wild as the cat as often as he needed to without prying eyes. Forests were great protection for the strange and unusual.
And Davi was certainly unusual. A born shifter, he was the only one that existed in his family, taking after his father. A man his mother had an affair with, they hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the guy since that ill-fated night. His mother had loved him, of that he had no doubt. However, her husband had never warmed to him, neither had his sister.
Not that he blamed them. He was a living reminder of the betrayal, and they never let him forget it. Once his parents had both passed, his sister had forgone even the thin veneer of politeness she’d had out of respect for their mother. They hadn’t seen each other or spoken in years. Frankly, Davi preferred it that way. There was no love lost between them, not after being seen as the black stain in the family for so long.
When a friend had told him of a US company hiring loggers requiring fire management experience, he’d eagerly applied. He figured they were in an area that saw a lot of wildfires, and wanted a capable team. He was right. Oregon was one of the largest logging states, but also had their fair share of wildfire issues. It was a perfect situation for him. He’d still be able to run as his cat, utilize past training, and get the hell out of Bolivia... away from memories he wasn’t keen on keeping. Bonus? They paid moving expenses. Couldn’t beat that, not for a broke ass cat with little to his name.
He’d left with a backpack. Now he had a small cabin, a pickup truck, and some belongings he’d carefully picked out to fill his space. It was more than he’d have hoped for. Davi didn’t need much, not really. Still, a few creature comforts made all the difference. He was comfortable, for the first time in awhile. He still wasn’t used to it, but he was getting there.
Nosing through the brush, he sniffed out different wildlife trails, following their paths through the leaves. Unlike most shifters, Davi didn’t hunt in this form. Not here. He didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to himself. The most he’d sighted around here were bobcats, a few mountain lions, bears, and foxes. He’d heard wolves and coyotes, but hadn’t encountered them yet. Jaguar prints were far bigger than those. If anyone found a kill from him, there’d be questions. Perhaps a sanctioned hunt born out of fear after an investigation. He couldn’t risk it, being much larger than the native resident cats.
So instead, he simply followed the trails, investigated what was there, and enjoyed the mock hunts. It kept his senses sharp, but didn’t cause any damage or alert anyone to his presence here. He bought his food packaged, like any other American male. He’d never gotten a taste for hunting with guns and bows. It felt like cheating, somehow. You either put in the effort, or you starved. That was the way of animals.
Davi didn’t turn down offerings of venison from the guys at the depot, though. He couldn’t deny it tasted fresher, more wild than what was at the supermarkets. He’d only been here a month, but he’d found a few decent people in the team he’d been set to work with. Family men, mostly. Some single ones like him. All good country boys, doing their jobs, clocking out in time for a nightly beer before heading home.
Hunting and football seasons were sacred. When they’d realized he didn’t have a chosen team, they’d all gone out of their way to extol the virtues of theirs. He’d listened politely, then begged off for the night. He knew picking one over the other would cause a helluva ruckus. He gathered his choices were best at the Seattle Seahawks and the Oregon Ducks if he had to choose. They seemed to be the majority for the locals.
Davi learned their scents quickly being around them. It was helpful to know who was in what area of the forests. Came in handy too, if anyone was ever lost or in trouble. So when he came across scents he didn’t recognize, far back beyond the borders of where people would normally be, it raised his hackles. He’d been told there weren’t many hikers out this way, it was too deep for most to comfortably walk to. No homes this far, either. Besides the loggers, no one would have a good reason to be here. Plenty of bad reasons, though.
Chapter Two
The next day at the depot loading up before heading out, Davi casually broached the topic with the men he’d gotten most comfortable with. He couldn’t exactly ask if they’d smelled anything odd out there, so he tried a different tack. “Hey, any of you noticed something strange out there? Hikers too far in, shit like that?”
One of the older loggers, Griff, scratched at his chin. “You talkin’ about past the river? Don’t see any hikers getting past the ridge, usually. Tire themselves out before then. Terrain’s too rugged. Some of the locals get lost out there occasionally. Rescue chopper’s gotta go sort ‘em out. Past that, only time I’ve ever caught anyone past the rapids has been poachers. Fuckin’ deadbeats leaving their traps around everywhere. Be careful if you head out there, they’ve gotten pretty good at hiding their gear.”
Davi nodded at the warning, indicating he understood. His first thought had been confirmed, at least. That far in, the only ones out there would be people up to no good. Poaching on private land was illegal. Not only was this land private, it was also protected due to the endangered species that called it home. They could only take so many trees, and had to replant in different areas for every parcel they took. It was also why the company needed people with fire training... to protect the ecology, they were called in to keep fires from spreading, from harming too much of the flora and fauna once they started.
It was a delicate balance. As a shifter, Davi understood that balance far better than others, since he lived in both worlds. Poachers were a dredge on society. Taking too many, too fast. Not caring if they were young, old, or part of a breeding population. The traps they set and left snagged anything and everything. If they caught something they didn’t want, it was just tossed aside, not used and made worthwhile. A senseless, worthless death.
And as Griff said, they tended to set up shop in the farthest reaches of the woodlands, where animals were plentiful and people weren’t. Where wildlife hadn’t yet learned to be cautious, to watch where they went. Since the poachers didn’t visit often, their deaths were long and excruciating. Davi snarled inwardly, making himself a new mission. No longer would he mock hunt to amuse himself and keep himself limber in jaguar form. His jaunts into a forest now had a new purpose... find and destroy every trap he could. If they weren’t going to play fair, neither would he.
I’m okay with that. Can we eat them?
No, we can’t eat them. You know the rules.
Cats live by no rules.
This cat does. Now shut up, or I’ll look insane.
It’d been days since he decided to take on the poachers in the territory he’d claimed for himself, but Davi hadn’t gotten a chance to get out there again. Being August, it was heading towards the end of fire season in Oregon, but that simply meant higher vigilance. The jaguar was damn near pacing in his head, wanting to get out and hunt. Davi was anxious as well... being cooped up and stuck in human form for too long made him feel itchy, trapped. He needed to stretch, to run, to feel the wind in his fur.
&nbs p; Soon, I promise.
The cooler weather wasn’t upon them yet. Families were heading out to sneak in one last round of weekend camping with the kids before school started up again. Hikers were making the most of the final summer days they had left before cold and snow moved in. This was the time when they needed to be most on guard for careless sparks, smoldering coals, illegal fireworks, sky lanterns, and other fucking nonsense people who lived in fire-prone areas should know better about, but usually didn’t.
Davi had been treated to plenty of rants from the local employees, so he was now well-versed in how much August sucked for them. He would not be getting much of a break. Not only were they continuing their clear-cutting, planting, and general duties, but they had to spend extra time scoping out potential spark hazards as well.
Even their chainsaws and tools of the trade became hazards during dry season. Every team had a spotter, whose sole job was to keep an eye out for smoke and to douse down the areas around where they’d cut once they’d cleared the logs and used the machinery to load them onto the trucks. They never left a location without ensuring it was safe. This week had been more wretched than most. The heat rivaled the Bolivian midday sun, humidity spiking under the canopy.
Coolers of ice and water were running dry and had to keep being refilled at the depot before being driven back. Every man, no matter the age, had ended up shirtless. All had an icy bandanna wrapped around his head, coated with dirt, sawdust, and grime. The boss would have a goddamn fit over the safety violations if he caught them. Hell, Davi noted most weren’t even wearing safety glasses. Damn things kept slipping down their noses from sweat, they’d been tossed hours ago. Eventually, even the best of them had to give in.
“Man, we’re beat. We hit quota for today, we’re out of here. Boss can’t complain about that. We still gotta do our rounds, but at least we can get cleaned up a bit, take a quick break. Too damn hot out here to function.”
Davi grinned. Greg, the one complaining, was beet red. He’d been hired around the same time Davi himself was, and had come from some state east of Oregon. Somewhere, as he put it, the sun doesn’t want to charbroil your ass. He’d never survive in the tropics. Rolling his shoulders, Davi groaned as his muscles protested the movement. They’d definitely hit quota, his body had kept track of every log, and was now rebelling. Thankfully, his shifter genetics would have him back in fighting form quickly. He couldn’t say the same for his coworkers. They’d be hurting tomorrow.
“I’ll take the ridge. It’s the farthest in. Give you poor arctic fuckers a break.”
That, and it gave Davi a chance to investigate a bit more, scout out the area. If no one usually went past the ridge and river, then anything past that was likely to be the beginning of where the poachers set up shop. He could get started there, traverse some of the game trails once he crossed the rapids. As soon as he shifted, his jaguar would heal the assorted aches and pains his human body had sustained. He’d be good to go for hours before he’d need to crash.
“Young blood ain’t always going to win out, you know. Radios don’t work that far, so you’re on your own, just warning ya. Don’t make me have to call out a chopper for your dumb hide if you don’t show up for clock-in tomorrow morning. I’ll be pissed.”
Griff grumbled, but Davi knew underneath the grizzled exterior was a man who looked after his team. He hadn’t been here long, but he could tell the man truly cared for their safety. As the site manager, he was the one on the ground, the one responsible for all of them. He’d take having to call for backup resources as a personal failure on his part, for not protecting his own and getting them all out properly.
However, humans didn’t know about their world. Throughout the centuries, humans had not reacted well the scattered times they’d found out about ‘others’ in their midst. Griff couldn’t know Davi was one of his new employees that was safer in the forests than out of them. Even lost, he could easily sniff his way to some form of civilization.
Unlike the others, he wouldn’t starve. The jaguar could drink stagnant water and not get sick. He’d never die of exposure to the elements. Shifters healed unnaturally fast, which was a help in most circumstances, but it meant they had to quickly move away from others if they were injured in front of humans. Their accelerated healing couldn’t be explained by anything natural. Here in the forests of Oregon, he had no real predators. Certainly, he wouldn’t take his chances against a fully grown black bear just for fun, but if forced, he knew he had a good chance of standing his ground. Nah, Griff didn’t have to worry about him. He was made for the wild.
He’d take tomorrow off, feigning exhaustion and muscle aches... it would be suspicious for him to come into work after the grueling day today and the hike he had in front of him without looking worse for wear. Especially as he intended to search as long as he could in the thickest brush. If there were traps, he’d find them.
Hitching a backpack over his shoulder loaded with water and trail mixes to keep up appearances, he said his goodbyes and headed off. They split at the trail markers, each going towards their chosen areas of the grid to search for fire hazards during the driest part of the season. Most carried radios. Those heading to the furthest reaches, like Davi, didn’t. There was no real point to it, as Griff had said, they wouldn’t work. They carried small GPS transmitters in case they were needed for rescue so the helicopters and rescue teams could find them, but radios themselves wouldn’t make a difference.
He walked a good mile away from the others, until he reached the ridge line that rose up slightly before dropping down into a gully where the river rushed below. The rapids weren’t anything special here, and the place was lined with jagged rocks, so kayakers didn’t venture this way. A rickety wooden and rope bridge led the way across for park rangers and the loggers to use if they needed to, but it was well understood that it wasn’t maintained... the thing was risky to use, basically. Even Davi, who didn’t fear much, got a lump in his throat when he crossed it that didn’t dissipate until his feet touched solid ground on the other side.
Alright, you ready? Remember what I said... no killing. We’re looking for scents, but we’re not hunting them.
The jaguar simply gave an irritated huff in his head. Davi hoped the exasperating animal would actually listen, but sometimes it was debatable as to who was actually in charge.
Once safely over the river, he stashed the backpack in some fallen leaves along with his clothing. Some shifters could have their clothing disappear and reappear with them when they shifted. Davi wasn’t so lucky. He had to keep a change of clothes hidden away in an accessible place. If he didn’t, he was either stuck in jaguar form, or making some people damn uncomfortable if they stumbled onto his naked ass in the shadows until he could locate some.
Mentally preparing himself, he dropped down to all fours, taking a breath. Shifting never came easy. You got more accustomed to it, but it never got easier. Closing his eyes, Davi focused on the form of the jaguar, the feel of the cat.
Almost instantaneously, pain wracked him. Bones broke and shattered, elongating and stretching. His spine lengthened, legs shortened. His entire skeleton twisted and reformed, fur sprouting from his skin. Where once had been a human, now laid a fully grown jaguar... all six feet and 225lbs of him. His sides heaved as he breathed through the last of the changes, whiskers twitching as his senses sharpened.
Sights, sounds, and smells were overwhelming in this form. It took a few moments to get his bearings every time. The sheer input of information that bombarded him as soon as he went from human to animal was a shock to the system. People would be amazed at everything they were missing, if they could only experience it once. Davi cherished it, this entrance to a different world, being able to walk in both.
Few were granted the ability. He didn’t know how or why he’d ended up with the genetic lottery. His mother was fully human, it shouldn’t have been possible, but he’d never wished he was normal. Normal was over-fucking-rated, anyway. Would have been nice to have a mentor, maybe. Still, he’d take this, the ability to live as a cat, to see the world through amber eyes, any day.
