Chapter 2
Amaya
Everything about Montana is the polar opposite of Arizona.
The crisp, clear air. Towering pine trees for miles, with the occasional peek of a deer.
Currently, I've got my windows down in my ancient car, letting the sweet breeze play with my hair and slip through my fingers.
The more mileage I put between myself and Phoenix, the more the hole in my heart grows, for everything I left behind, and fills with hope for everything I might find in Canada.
I glance at the lunchbox tucked down by the passenger seat, and already tears spring to my eyes just looking at it, knowing there is still one burrito left that Mom lovingly packed for me.
Her round face is suddenly in my mind’s eye, the way she brushed my tears away and nodded with understanding as I babbled on about my need to break free and go someplace different. Anywhere different.
Steam suddenly spews from underneath the hood, breaking me from my memories.
“Shit!” Glancing briefly behind me, I see there are no cars there, and none in front of me, but I still signal and move slowly to the edge of this road I’m on, and kill the engine.
Why didn’t my temp gauge come on? I tap on the thin plexiglass of the dash, and suddenly the deep red temperature alarm flares to life. Great.
I knew it was a risk driving this hunk of junk across state lines, let alone to a different country, but the fact that I’m in Montana and so close to the border makes me wonder if there is some outside force happening.
Resting my head on the steering wheel for just a second, I let myself breathe and try to relax my aching shoulders.
After driving for three days and only stopping in Utah and Idaho, my neck was stiff as a board.
“Alright, get it together, Amaya, you can do this. Just pop the hood and let everything cool down.” The feeling of overwhelming panic is just at the top of my chest, threatening to spill over, but I tamp it down. No panic attacks for me, no thanks.
In one swift move, I haul myself out of the car, grab a rag from the trunk to protect my hands when I pop the hood, and stand back as a whoosh of steam and the burnt smell of something plasticky meets my nose.
“Damn.” At my last pit stop, I had grabbed just one bottle of water from a vending machine, not wanting to risk hanging around any longer in a half-deserted rest stop, but that is already halfway gone, and this radiator is going to need more water than I have.
Looking around, I realize that I might not be on a main highway any longer.
Maybe I took a wrong turn, or perhaps I wasn’t paying that much attention to my map in the first place.
The last sign I saw was for a town called Clearwater Springs, population 2,005.
Lifting my nose, I inhale deeply into my chest. The distinct smell of water hits my senses immediately.
That is one gift you receive when living in a dry desert for so long is the ability to smell water over long distances.
Sounds crazy, but it's true. Next, I close my eyes and listen. Sure enough, the distant tinkling sounds of water meet my ears, and I grin at the thought of a river nearby. I’ll grab some water, cool this damn car down, and be on my way. Easy peasy.
Scrawling out a note to stick in the windshield and let any passerby know I’ve gone in search of water.
Then I have to punch the hazard button on the dash three times before slapping it to get them to finally turn on.
After packing away my empty bottles into my backpack, taking my purse, and the last of the fresh water for myself, I step over the divider and start walking into the forest, instinctively picking the path that seems to lead downhill.
The road is swallowed behind me, and before long, the only thing surrounding me is the forest. Awestruck, I take a moment to stand still and just watch.
Beams of bright sun peek through the branches, pooling in places that sprout interesting plants.
Birds of all shapes and sizes, some I’ve never seen before, flit from branch to branch, looking at me curiously.
I’m smiling so hard from pure joy that the muscles in my face are aching.
After a while, the ground becomes soft and mossy, and my sandals come off soon after.
Wiggling my toes, I stand for a bit longer, letting the energy of this place soak into my very bones.
I can feel myself becoming distracted, so I set myself to the task at hand.
“Alright, forest, you’re beautiful, stunning, but I need to find some water so I can get going. ”
I keep walking, my head on a swivel as I keep an eye out for the water that I know is out there.
Before long, a clearing pops out when I come around a thicket of trees and bushes, and I hear the rushing sound of water.
The boulders have been getting larger, so I hope that I’m close.
I step around a particularly large boulder and step into a space that can only be described as a fairy tale garden.
Lush bushes bursting with raspberries border the generous space, with vegetables spilling onto the ground in chaos.
Along a fallen log are mushrooms of every size; some look positively alien.
Just behind this utopia is the sparkling creek I’ve been searching for, and right on the bank is a man, but unlike any man I’ve ever seen before.
He looks absolutely gobsmacked to find me standing here, and although I can see quite clearly that he has a rack of antlers jutting from his forehead, complete with vine tattoos etched on nearly every inch of his sleek muscles, and quite rightly should be terrified, I’m not.
“Oh, hey,” I say instead, because that is definitely the correct response to meeting a decidedly gorgeous non-human being in a magical forest when searching for water for an overheating, ancient piece-of-crap car.
Based on the shocked look I am still getting from him, I get the feeling that I probably shouldn’t be here.
“Sorry, this is definitely a mistake, me in here. This place is awesome, though. You some kind of guardian? Or faun? No, they have hooves.” I pause as I glance at his feet, feeling my cheeks getting hot.
Why am I looking at his feet like some kind of creep?
“Hey, listen, do you know anything about cars? Human cars?”
His mouth clamps shut, eyes narrowing. “What?”
“Uh, cars? Mine is overheated, I think. I came to get some water, and I sniffed out that there was probably a river nearby, so that’s how I got here.
Where you are. And, yeah. Water goes in the radiator, right?
For overheating?” Stop talking, Amaya. Stop talking!
I feel out of breath and slightly dizzy.
He stands from the boulder, fully facing me.
Instinctively, I back up. “Oh, wow, you are tall. Okay.” My blush deepens, my eyes roving his body because I apparently have no control over myself.
Sleek is the only word that comes to mind; from his shiny black shoulder-length hair that has white streaks in the front, to his long, strong muscles, and his sculpted cock.
Immediately, I flick my eyes upwards toward the sky, as though it were now the most interesting thing I could look at in this place.
I looked at his cock. He saw me looking! Like, literally, Amaya, could you be more of a dumbass right now!
He stops, and I see him shrinking back down, albeit slightly.
His antlers seem to get sucked back into his body, the vine tattoos meld back into his pale skin, and human clothes reappear.
A shiver runs through his body, as though he is getting comfortable in this new body.
I try not to let my mouth hang open at this transformation taking place in front of me.
I should be running back to my car, but I’m cemented in place with demented curiosity.
“I know nothing about human cars.” His voice is deep, but clipped. Annoyance is dripping from it, and I wince as he speaks.
“Right. Okay, well, I’ll just grab some water and fix it myself, no big deal.”
His arm flings out to stop me before I can even take a step forward. “That will not be necessary. I will give you a ride.”
Every cell in my body lights up. Normally, this would be cause for alarm, a strange non-human shifter being gruffly offering me a ride, but my body is not giving me the run for your life alarm like it normally would. I trust my gut, always. Instead, I’m tingling, eager, curious.
Nodding nonchalantly, I hear myself say, “Sure.”