by Sadie Hart
Her goal was to get them all off this mountain alive—including the rogue who’d dragged Hunter’s wolf up here. But the victims and civilians came first. They had to. “I’m a big girl,” she said softly.
His lips quirked slightly in a half-hearted attempt at a smile. “I know. And you’re armed.”
“Don’t do anything stupid and if things go south and I’m engaged with our rogue, get your wolf out of there. Don’t worry about me. Get her down to this truck and call in the Hounds. But you two need to be safe.”
His jaw tightened but he nodded.
“Hunter...”
“I’ll get her safe.”
“And you.”
She could hear his teeth grind together, frustrated. “I won’t do anything stupid and I’ll make damn sure Rylie is safe. But don’t ask me to leave you there alone.”
Bree knew she should argue. They had time. They were still early, despite the dimming sky over the peak. But all she could remember was the last case she’d worked. The Hound in charge should have held her back. After all, it had been her husband they’d been chasing. And he most definitely should have held back Lennox’s lovers. But Bree and the two lions shouldn’t have been there and all three of them had been liabilities.
Looking at Hunter though, and there were just some things she couldn’t argue. Even if she ordered him to stay, he was going to protect his wolf, and like it or not, if he could, he was going to try and protect her too.
Bree leveled him a glare. “Rylie comes first. Promise me that. Priority of life, it’s always civilians before the Hounds.”
Surprise flickered through his gaze and his head cocked. “I’ve seen Hounds save one of their own over helping another shifter.”
“Not with me.”
There was a flash of respect and then he nodded. “Rylie first.”
“Then stay hidden.” She jerked her head towards the mountainside. “I’ll meet you at the top.”
She saw the flash of impulsivity flare in his eyes before he reached out and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her closer. His lips brushed hers. “You be careful. Whatever this rogue wants, he has an issue with you.”
And just like that, he let her go and slipped into the forest, leaving her to stare into the shadows. Bree fisted her hands at her sides and turned towards the sloping incline. The trail was snowed over but she could still make out the winding path up the mountainside.
Bree headed up the trail, her senses on high alert. She felt the Hound magick rise inside her, swirling just under her skin, her inner canine rising to the surface as well. Fear prickled at the back of her neck. Whatever this was about, apparently it was personal, and that tended to make everything more dangerous.
She slipped her magick out into the forest around her, searching for any signs of danger as she headed up the path. She didn’t want to be taken by surprise. A small smile quirked the edge of her lips. Heck, she actually wanted to make it to Christmas this year, actually cared. There was even the possibility that she might want to take Hunter on a date soon enough. A real one. Her smile widened.
For the first time in a long time she was looking at the potential possibilities of having a future, of moving on with her life. And as she looked up at the snow covered peak, felt the Hound magick swirling inside her, she realized that she was at peace with herself. Right now, the Hound in her was back. The woman who actually wanted to help people, to make a difference, she was back.
And that was the woman who had wanted to live life, find happiness, learn to love once more. Maybe she had needed time to find herself again, and maybe the quiet and solitude of White Pine had done that for her, but as she got closer and closer to the top, Bree knew it had more to do with the wolf hiding in the shadows guarding her back than anything else. Hunter Reed hadn’t just barged into her life; he’d breathed life back into it.
She’d have to remember to thank him when this was over.
The wind swirled, bringing with it the scent of another wolf—this time feminine. Hunter’s wolf. Bree drew her gun and picked up her pace.
***
The cold wind ripped through the trees, ruffling through his fur as Hunter stalked up the forest, winding closer and closer to the top. The wolf was hardly disturbed by the frigid breeze. His ears pricking back and forth for any sound out of the ordinary. He heard a hare move over the snow, moving slow as it searched for food, but beyond that the forest of Wolf’s Peak lay quiet. Undisturbed.
His hackles prickled.
This whole thing felt a trap. It was too easy.
Biting back the urge to snarl, Hunter picked up pace. His keen gaze took in the pale landscape. The snow was dappled with shadows and fallen branches. Brittle, yellowed pine needles poked out from the blanket of white where the trees had gotten too heavy with the weight of winter and had snapped under the pressure.
Scent pocketed in the uneven ground and Hunter paused to inhale the smells of the forest. The closer he dared to pace to the marked trail, the stronger the scent of Rylie and the rogue got. So far, it didn’t seem like the bastard had varied.
Was he just that dumb or was Hunter missing something?
He had to expect that Bree with all her Hound training would come prepared to face him, that she wouldn’t be duped by an amateur. He had to be hiding somewhere. Hunter picked up speed as he neared the peak. Through the trees he could see one of the small clearings with its snowed over picnic area and old rusted grill stand.
He slunk along the edges, his tongue trailing out over his teeth as he tasted the air. For the first time blood touched his nose, sweat. Rylie. His wolf curled back his lips to reveal fangs in a silent snarl. He’d get the bastard for every mark he’d left on her.
The scent drew stronger and stronger, wrapping around the trees, curling over the snow, it until finally, crouched in a bush near the summit edge he spotted Rylie face down in the snow. Blood smeared the white. He lifted a paw before he could stop himself, barely holding his wolf back from charging out into the open.
She was alone. Obviously hurt, but he could see the slight rise and fall of her chest. Alive then. He scanned the peak. The rogue had been here recently. He could smell it in the wind. Hunter guessed the rogue had maybe left minutes ago, no doubt expecting Bree to be early—just not this early.
Hunter cast Rylie another look. Red speckled the snow around her. She was supposed to be his priority. The rogue was up to Bree. But damn he hated to leave her blind, hated not knowing where the bastard was hiding. Hated the damn waiting game.
His paws flexed in the snow as he struggled with himself, his claws digging little divots in the frozen earth. You promised. Rylie first, then all bets were off. Any other Hound Hunter had ever known would have preferred to have someone watch their back then give a damn about another shifter, but Bree actually cared about the woman face down in the snow. And she expected him to do as she’d asked.
Was relying on it.
He couldn’t change the game now, no matter how much he wanted to.
But if this rogue did anything to Bree, the moment he got Rylie to safety he was coming back for her—and he’d make damn sure the rogue paid for everything.
Chapter Ten
Bree paused as the trail wound around a small clearing. The rundown picnic table was covered with snow, but she caught the scent of blood in the air. Stretching her magick, out around her she searched for clues as she moved closer. There in the snow just past the table she could see the struggle laid out in the snow. Rylie must have decided to fight.
A small smile touched her lips. It hadn’t been enough, but the girl had guts. Rylie had stayed alive this long, Bree just hoped she was still hanging in there. Creeping up the trail, Bree moved off into the woods. It was quiet.
Even in the winter, birdsong should have stretched between the trees. Quite a few birds stayed year round, hungrily nibbling at bird feeders and what food they could still find. The silence was a warning in itself.
Gun in hand, Bree
searched every shadow, let her magic wrap around every snow bank, every tree as she moved. Finally she saw the summit, the cliff the dipped out slightly over the edge. A sign stood next to the stone edge. The Summit. Descriptions and pictures filled the glass covered sign. Rylie lay in the snow, alive.
Bree let her magick touch the woman. A steady pulse. Good. She sensed Hunter next, hiding in the shadows. Then beyond him, waiting in the fast falling darkness, a man. The same dark, guarded presence she’d sensed in the ravine when they’d found his lean-to and makeshift home. She couldn’t tell if he was aware of Hunter or what, but something told her he could see exactly where he’d left Rylie even if she couldn’t see him.
The moment she stepped into the clearing the game would change.
She reached out with her magick. This time she focused in on specifics. Metal. Weapon. Gun. She felt it then. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she lunged to the side. The sharp snap of a bullet eating wood sounded in the quiet, followed by Hunter’s snarl.
“Get out of here,” she snapped at him, ducking behind a tree for cover. Her gun pointed toward the ground she took a breath to calm the pounding of her heart.
That had been close. Too close.
She glanced at the tree she’d been standing in front of. He’d aimed low. A gouge bit into the bark somewhere around knee level. Son of a bitch was shooting to wound? The slap of his hand on her bedroom window, the calls, now this? He damn well wanted to play with her first.
Bree traced her tongue out over her lips. Tentative.
She wasn’t about to take a bullet so he could play cat and mouse.
But right now she had one thing going for her. He didn’t want her dead. Yet.
The closest tree that would offer her a good standpoint of protection was another five feet to her right. It would be a dodge from tree to tree and she couldn’t afford to cover herself with gunfire. Both Rylie and Hunter lay somewhere between herself and the rogue.
“Shit,” she breathed out and closed her eyes.
New plan.
Pointing her gun toward the sky and raising her arm she edged her hand out from behind the tree. “I just want to talk.”
Stupid move, an inner voice chanted at her. She wasn’t sure this would work, but damn, she didn’t think she could come up with anything better. And the moment he spotted Hunter in that rifle’s crosshairs he’d have another hostage. She had to work with what she could. Right now.
“Don’t shoot. I’m going to put down my weapon.” She edged out from behind the tree, every prayer she could think of running through her mind on replay as she stood out in the open, both arms raised. “I’m just going to set it down.”
Her voice carried easily through the quiet of the forest. Bree slowly bent over and set her gun on the snow and then kicked it away. She glanced in the direction of the still-hiding rogue.
“Come on. I want to know what I did for you to make this personal.” She took another step towards the clearing. Her legs felt like rubber, unsteady and uncertain with every step she took. Damn. But he hadn’t shot her yet. “You have to talk to me though. Why the phone calls? Why kidnap Rylie here? I don’t even know her.”
Amazingly enough her voice was steady, without the edge of fear running wild through her veins. Her magick floated through the trees, stretching out, searching. She felt him then. Roughly a hundred yards ahead of. She couldn’t see him, he was well hidden, but she kept every ounce of strength and energy she had focused on him. Her inner canine strained forward, listening for any and every sound. Her magick wrapped around him, waiting for that barest twinge of muscle before he’d pull the trigger.
It was the only warning system she’d have.
Her one shot to get out of the way if the rogue decided he wanted her dead.
“Come on,” she called out again, taking another shaky step in the direction of Rylie. If she could put herself between the woman and him, maybe Hunter could have a shot at getting his wolf to safety. “I don’t even know you.”
“You should!” His voice came like a whip out of the forest, harsh and lashing. She flinched against the sound. It was so filled with hate and anger it practically burned. “But then again you always want to claim innocence. Always pretend you didn’t know! Does it help you sleep at night?”
She took another step towards Rylie and then another, doing her best to get between the rogue and the woman lying prone in the snow. She tried to let his words roll over her, but something in them stung. Pretend she didn’t know? There was nothing about this man that rang a bell. She started to shake her head when he moved. She felt the pulse through her magick a second before she could hear him crashing through the forest. He shoved into view, his gun leveled at her chest.
His eyes were wild and rimmed with red. Sweat clung to his skin and clothes. He jabbed the gun in her direction, his hand shaky, but she had no doubt when he pulled that trigger he could hit her. “You’re such a lying bitch,” he ground out, spittle covering his lips. “Don’t even look at me like that. You were married to that bastard. You should have known!”
And there his words hit like a slap. She jerked. He took another step towards her but Bree couldn’t move. Her heart lodged in her throat as all the past guilt swarmed her. This was about Caesar, what her husband had done.
Not her. And yet she couldn’t stop the barrage of guilt that beat at her.
She should have known. She’d told herself that a thousand times, but damn it, she’d finally come to accept the fact that no one could have known what Caesar was going to do—not even his wife.
It didn’t change the fact that she was sorry, that she wished she’d seen the signs, that she could have stopped him. But she hadn’t known.
“I’m sorry.” She didn’t move as she stared at him. “Whatever Caesar did—”
“Don’t even do that!” He took another step towards her, his lips curled back as he ground the words out between his teeth. She could feel the fury emanating from him. He shook with it. But as he kept walking towards her he walked right past Rylie, leaving the woman out of the picture.
The closer he came to her, the more danger Bree was in, but all that mattered right now was that Hunter could get Rylie off this damned mountain without either of them getting hurt. He had a shot now, with the rogue’s sole focus on Bree. But to get Rylie to safety Hunter would have to leave Bree to fend for herself. He’d have to do what he’d promised. Bree just hoped he trusted her enough to know she could take care of herself.
She turned her focus back on the advancing rogue, trying to ignore the fact that gun was getting closer and closer. Her chances at getting out of range before he pulled that trigger were dwindling with every second.
She turned the conversation back to him. “Don’t do what?” Bree said, keeping her voice as soothing as possible. She took a step back and he snarled.
The gun jabbed at her and her heart stopped for a split second as she waited for the shot to fire. Instead he just screamed, a half-roar, a half sob. It was a desperate sound that seemed to tear through him. His breath came ragged as the scream faded and his words were hoarse when they came, almost soft. “Stop pretending like you didn’t know he was going to kill my brother.”
She opened her mouth to tell him that she didn’t even know who his brother was when she saw Hunter at the edge of the clearing. His wolf stared out at her from behind a bush. She forced her gaze back on the man in front of her. She couldn’t risk giving Hunter away, though damn she hoped he’d shift and get Rylie out of here.
Bree blew out a steadying breath. She had to trust him to keep his word. She let all of her focus shift back to the rogue closing in on her. She took another step back, giving Hunter more space to work and hoping like hell the rogue was so focused on her he wouldn’t even notice when Hunter came for Rylie.
“Who was your brother?”
“Hale. Tristan Hale. Do you really need me to refresh your memory?” The gun waved as he spoke, each word filled with
venom and hate. He wanted her dead, there was no question there, but there was something else he wanted from her. Fear. An apology. To admit she’d known.
None of that was something she’d give him.
But he bulldozed on, as if convinced that if he reminded her of her sins that she’d suddenly apologize. “Your husband, your partner, one of your own damn Hounds in your little pack, slaughtered my brother and his wife. Do you remember now?”
Oh, she remembered. Tristan and Carolyn Hale had been her husband’s first victims. He’d slaughtered Tristan Hale outside of his bar, and then Carolyn inside her own home.
She saw Hunter as a blur out of the corner of her eye, human this time, and moving in a fast jog towards Rylie’s still body. Bree took another step backwards, hoping to keep the rogue focused on her, and started to shake her head.
She had to draw this out, had to keep him looking at her and not on the woman behind him.
“You lying bitch.”
“I remember them from the news. Vaguely, but I had no idea—” He lunged at her, severing the words mid-sentence, and Bree just reacted. Muscle memory and instinct took over. She caught his wrist and forced his gun upwards just as his finger tightened over the trigger. She registered the gun shot even as she shoved against him.
He lashed out, a heavy fist raining down against her back but years of training and practice still left her memory sharp. Some things just never left a person. Bree slammed her foot down against the side of his knee as she twisted the wrist with his gun. Another shot fired and then he staggered and his grip loosened.
Yes. Bree poured her magick through her muscles, giving herself that extra ounce of strength as she twisted her grip and pried the gun free. He slammed into her from behind, knocking the breath right out of her lungs. Bree staggered and spun, but he was gone. A blur of silver fur fading into the brush.
