by J. D. Tyler
They sat cross-legged on the blanket facing each other. Daria picked up her bowl, sniffed, and wrinkled her nose.
“You know, this stuff isn’t that bad and I’m used to it, but there’s something mildly disturbing about food that poofs out when you add water. How do they do that?”
Ryon laughed, and she smiled back. His heart did a funny leap in his chest. “One of life’s great mysteries, I suppose.”
“I’d say you’re one of those mysteries,” she retorted, waggling her spoon at him. “Every bit as interesting as old, dried up beef, and twice as tough.”
He barked another laugh, nearly choking on his stew. “Gee, you’d better stop with the compliments before my ego explodes my brain.”
“Sorry. Guess I’m getting punchy.” She hesitated, then observed him thoughtfully. “Tell me about you, or your family.”
“What’s to know?” He stared, admiring the way the corners of her eyes crinkled with tiny crow’s-feet when she smiled. Her full lips, the graceful curve of her jaw.
“Where did you grow up?”
“Atlanta, Georgia, armpit of the South.” He didn’t offer more, and she put down her bowl, throwing him an exasperated look.
“You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”
“Nope. You compared me to dehydrated meat. I’m still recovering.”
“Jeez, we’re touchy.” She leaned forward, peering intently into his face. As she did, Ryon tried not to stare at the perfect roundness of her breasts pushing against her T-shirt.
“What?”
“You told me some about your mom and sister. What about your father?”
His throat tightened. “He was a Marine lieutenant. He was killed in action in Operation Desert Storm when I was a boy.”
Daria laid a hand over his. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“It was a long time ago. And I had Mom to put up with me, bless her.” He smiled. “Lisa came along later, from her marriage to my stepdad.”
Daria cocked her head, an odd look on her face. “Do you ever see him?”
“Not often. We call once in a while, send Christmas cards. I really should make more of an effort since the man helped raise me, but we were never all that close. What about your dad? Your father must be a special man.”
“He’s the best. When he retired from studying wolves, I couldn’t wait to take over where he left off. We’re very close, but we don’t get to see each other as much as we’d like.”
“After we’ve put Ben to rights, we’ll visit him.” If we aren’t forced to destroy Ben first went unsaid.
Daria gave him a wan smile. “I’d like that, and so would Dad.”
Neither of them felt much like talking after that. In silence, they cleaned their bowls and utensils with leaves, which they buried to avoid attracting unwanted nighttime guests. With nothing else to do, they readied themselves to bed down. Daria changed into a pair of shorts, muttering that it was too hot to sleep in her pants.
Ryon tried not to stare as she emerged, and failed. Her long legs were slender, toned, and tanned. He could imagine them wrapped around his waist while he pounded into her with precision. He never tired of fucking her. Not tonight, though. They needed rest.
“God, I wish I could risk even one ounce of our water supply to wash off.” She spared a longing glance for the canteen next to her pack.
“I’ll try to find us a safe place tomorrow. With any luck, we’ll run into one of the tributaries branching off of the river.”
“Ohh, that would be fantastic.”
Idiot! Had he lost his mind? Facing a firing squad would be less torture than guarding Daria while she bathed. They’d never reach his team if he banged her all the way across the forest.
They settled into the shelter, lying on their backs, neither one speaking. The quiet between them was companionable.
If only he could silence the chaos in his mind so easily. If he had to kill Ben, she would hate him forever.
You don’t know for sure! She’d forgive you. Right?
Ryon couldn’t handle the truth. Not now. He shoved it away, but it loomed. As deadly as the coral snake, waiting to strike, to poison his blood. His soul.
Damn you, Ben Cantrell. He slid into fitful dreams, the echo of Cantrell’s screams winging him into the darkness.
* * *
Ryon surfaced by slow degrees. He couldn’t move. Pressure on his legs, his chest. The waking dream collided with his nightmare. He called out.
Daria? No!
But the cry reverberated only in his mind. His lips wouldn’t move.
Where was his mate? Trapped. Blood. Soaking his clothes, his hair. Drowning in a crimson river.
Ryon!
Forgive me, forgive me . . .
“Ryon!”
He came awake with a jolt and the nightmare broke apart, the tendrils of unspeakable terror receding into the gloom. The pressure on his body remained, and he realized that someone was half draped across him. A hand was clamped over his mouth.
“Shh,” Daria whispered, urgent.
Ryon tensed, listening. Nothing at first, and then . . . The distant call of a night bird to the north, and an answering call to the west. The rest of the forest had gone unnaturally still. A chill of fear zinged down his spine. Christ, August had his goons searching for them before dawn!
They were so close his wolf could practically smell them. Waiting. Footsteps crept through the brush around them, so furtive the slight movements might never have awakened him. Sweat streamed down the sides of his face. Daria removed her hand from his mouth but remained motionless on top of him, breasts crushed against his chest through the fabric of their T-shirts. The thundering of her heart matched his own.
Ryon stretched out an arm and felt for his M16. His fingers found the stock and closed around it, but the weapon’s presence gave him little relief. They were sitting ducks. If their hideout was discovered, he’d take out as many of them as he could, but he’d be firing blind. No doubt, they were well equipped with night vision goggles, and his pair was stowed in his pack. He didn’t dare risk making noise by digging for them.
The footsteps receded and the calls faded, melting into the returning blurbs and shrieks of the forest’s nocturnal inhabitants. Long, agonizing minutes inched by, became an hour. Finally, Daria slid off him, slow and careful. When the first gray streaks of dawn began to lighten their view, Ryon put a finger to his lips and motioned his intent to take a look around.
Daria gave a small nod and mouthed be careful. He sent her what he hoped to be a reassuring smile, then palmed the rifle and crawled from the tent opening on his belly. Bracing the rifle against his shoulder, he half expected his appearance to draw fire.
Nothing.
Only the busy chatter of day creatures awakening all around them. The men had probably moved on. He waited several more minutes, then rose to one knee. Still nothing. He stood, then made a quick sweep around the area. Satisfied, he returned to the shelter.
“Come on out. It’s clear.”
Daria joined him, glancing around. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. They’ve gone. The problem is, they’re fanned out, moving in a straight line in the same direction we want to go—toward our rendezvous point. And now they’re ahead of us, or at least this squad is, rather than behind.”
Her brown eyes widened. “Oh, God. That means we’re literally surrounded.”
“We can assume so. The good news is they don’t know that, or we would already be dead.”
“Somehow, honey, I don’t find that very promising.”
“We’re breathing. For now, that will have to do.” Ryon paused, considering the wisdom of his next move. “You need a weapon.”
“I’m not exactly a marksman.”
“Desperate times.” Bending, he retrieved the handgun strapped to his ankle. Straightening, he held it out to her, butt first. “Three fifty-seven SIG. Can you handle it?”
Daria took it from him, mouth falling open.
“You’re trusting me with this?”
“I’m not worried about your abilities. Just point and shoot if you have to, but watch the recoil.”
She studied it dubiously. “All right. I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all either of us can do,” he said quietly. “Ready?”
“We’re keeping to the plan? This would be the perfect time to turn back and get the evidence we need,” she said eagerly. “August would never expect it.”
Grabbing his pack, Ryon stood for a moment, thinking of the pros and cons. With the majority of August’s men out searching for them, she was right. He just didn’t want to admit it. After a long moment, he let out a sigh. “You make a really good point.”
Her eyes widened and she stepped into him, placing her palms on his chest. “You mean that?”
“Yeah. I do.” At last, he forced himself to swallow his pride and jealousy. It was a bit rough going down. “Ben is important to you, so he is to me, too. I want to help him and anyone else out there who’s been hurt by those experiments.”
She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. He had to force his mind from taking her then and there, no matter how badly he wanted to do it. Reluctantly he let her go and they got ready.
Daria changed back into her dark fatigues for the day’s hike, tucking the gun into the waistband. Then she took two protein bars from her pack and handed one to Ryon.
“Here. Quick energy before we go.”
“Thanks. Until now, I can’t remember when I’ve ever looked forward to eating compressed sawdust.” He unwrapped the bar and consumed half of the nasty thing in one bite. “I’m so hungry, I’d give my firstborn for a plate of bacon and eggs.”
“Think about something else. How’s the arm?”
Ryon glanced at the scratch. “A little sore, that’s all. I’d nearly forgotten it.”
She stuffed the rest of the bar into her mouth, then peered at his arm. “Looking good. No sign of infection.”
“Thanks, Doc.” His lips turned up. “You are a woman of many talents, my mate.”
“You have no idea,” she teased, hefting her pack.
“Oh, I think I do.”
As they headed back, making a wide berth to avoid any of the goons that might’ve been behind them, he reached out to Nick.
Change of plans, boss. Most of August’s men passed us, so we’re going back to take one more crack at getting that evidence.
All right, but be careful. There’s been a development.
Ryon tensed. What’s going on?
The creature isn’t here in the Shoshone anymore. We don’t think he’s anywhere around, in fact.
He let that sink in, and his blood chilled. You think he’s coming here?
I’d say it’s highly possible.
How fast can he possibly get here on foot?
Pretty damned fast if he was given any Tracing abilities during the experiments. The park rangers here have reported three more kills that are less than a day old—and each kill is more than twelve miles apart. No way could he have covered that wide an area on foot in one night.
Shit! But why would he come here?
I’m guessing he’s going after August, or you and Daria. Perhaps he senses that Daria is gone. Keep your eyes open.
Very funny, boss. He’s fucking invisible!
Not totally, Nick reminded him. Watch for irregular patterns around you, like a clear kaleidoscope effect. You can spot him.
Thanks for the pep talk.
Hang in there. Shoot us the information the second you break into his files. If there’s a cure present, we’ll give it to the lab and have them get right to work on it. Then, when we get the word from you, we’ll go wheels up and head out to retrieve you both.
Thanks, Nick.
Talk soon.
“Daria, hold up.” She stopped, looking at him questioningly. “Bad news—Ben is on the move.”
“In his beast form?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“Unfortunately, that’s likely the case. Nick thinks he might be headed this way, maybe coming after us or your uncle.”
Her face paled. “Now we’ve got to get that cure. We’re running out of time and we’ve got nothing effective to fight him with.”
He nodded. “Seems you were right all along and I’ve been a fool.”
“Give yourself a break. We were being pursued and shot at. You were protecting me.”
“Thanks, sweetheart. Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
As they started off again, a shadow passed over his soul. This was a suicide mission.
And even Nick wasn’t saying whether Ryon would make it home alive.
Twelve
For hours, Daria trudged along behind Ryon, staring at his perfect backside. How wonderful was her mate for seeing this through? She craved justice against August for what he’d done to Ben, and she’d have it. Ben had been a fine man, a good friend. As lovers, however, she and Ben were all wrong for each other and the parting had been painful.
But she’d done her share of grieving, and had come out the other side. After a long, desolate stretch, Ryon had awakened the longing to be touched, held. Wrapped in Ryon’s arms, she finally knew what it meant to find the other half of her soul.
“Check this out.”
Ryon halted in his tracks, staring ahead. The trail had led them to a small pond about a quarter of the size of a football field. The thick foliage surrounding the banks made it seem much smaller, more secluded. Sunlight filtered through the forest canopy, causing lovely dappled patterns across the greenery and glassy surface. Huge old trees stood sentry at the perimeter of the bank, their dark roots extending into the water like bony fingers. Several azure butterflies floated on the air, some drinking from large flowers.
“Oh, wow! It’s gorgeous!” Daria tugged on his arm, as excited as a child. “I’m so hot and grimy, could we cool off? Please?”
“I don’t know.” He scowled, taking in the area. “Let me try something first. Give me a bit of your jerky.”
“What for?” Curious, she wasted no time setting down her pack and fetching the beef, especially if it meant a bath. She opened the bag, tore off a piece, and handed it to him.
“Watch.”
Ryon tossed the dried meat into the center of the pond. Nothing happened at first, but gradually, tiny ripples broke at the surface of the water, like a pot beginning to boil. The action, however, never became frenzied. The fish nibbled at the treat until nothing remained, then disappeared. All was calm again. Nothing else moved.
“You were testing the pond for dangerous critters,” she remarked. “I’m impressed. I probably wouldn’t have thought to toss out bait.”
“Just a precaution. We’re close to the estate again, and getting eaten by something mutated that August helped create would ruin my day. It appears safe enough, but I’ll go first. Pull up a tree root and try not to get into any trouble.” He gave a lopsided grin. “And no peeking.”
“Huh. Don’t flatter yourself.”
From his smirk, he knew she was teasing. She didn’t turn away as he peeled off his dark T-shirt. When he tossed it aside, sent her a smoldering look, and went for the zipper on his fatigues, she did moan. A low, deep laugh rumbled from his chest, warming her like a shot of the whiskey she wished she’d brought along.
Daria sat on a big root, eyeing him as removed his pants and rustled through his belongings. The water swirled invitingly as he waded in. Dear Lord, Ryon belonged on one of those hunk-of-the-month calendars. The man possessed a body to rival a Greek god. Silky blond hair brushed his neck. The lean muscles of his back and arms bunched under golden skin. His chiseled butt cried out for her hands.
He waded out until the water lapped at his hips and turned so that she had a great side profile. Then he leaned back and dunked his head, giving her a tantalizing view of his chest and ripped abs. Whoa, baby!
Ryon straightened and began to lather his hair with a bar of soap she h
adn’t noticed in his hand. He repeated the procedure all over his upper body until she actually began to feel envious of the bubbles. He dunked himself twice to rinse, then swiped the water out of his face with his free hand. Without warning, he spun and grinned at her.
“Enjoying the show, baby?”
“I was just scouting the area for danger,” she quipped.
His grin widened into a blinding smile. “Your concern for my safety is heartwarming, but the only dangerous animal around here will be me if you keep eyeballing me like I’m a steak.”
“Deal with it.”
Laughing, he finished up. Then he got out, used the blanket to pat dry, and got dressed. Too bad. She rose from her gnarly perch as he was pulling on a clean shirt, still favoring his side. He donned clean fatigues as well.
“I’d like to wash our dirty clothes before we leave so we can lay them out tonight to dry,” she commented. “No telling when we’ll find another good place to get clean.”
“Good idea.”
Daria discarded her clothing as fast as humanly possible, grabbed the soap, and dashed for the water. She plunged into the pond and faced Ryon, making sure her breasts were well within his appreciative view.
“Oh, it’s so warm!” she called to him. “This feels terrific.”
“Doesn’t it?” He didn’t look like he was thinking about the water as he eyed her.
“I’ll never take my shower at home for granted again.”
He laughed once more. She loved the rich sound. As she scrubbed herself from head to toe, she spent the time contemplating how to get him to do it often. And that voice, made for a darkened bedroom and tangled sheets on a hot summer night? Made her wet.
Rinsing the last of the soap from her body, she pushed her wet hair back and opened her eyes to see Ryon grinning at her like a fool. “Nice show.”
“Hey, no fair!” she squeaked playfully. She smiled back—and then a strange thing happened.
Ryon’s grin withered, and he rose slowly, frowning, looking past her.
“What is it?”
His expression bloomed into a mask of horror, and he yelled at her. “Get out of the water! Get out!”
