You’re burning a lot of fuel keeping warm, and you aren’t up to fighting weight to start with. So you’re stuck with me shoveling food down you as fast as I can for the duration of this trip might as well get used to it.” EIGHT “WE started later than I thought we would,” Toby told Lauren. “But we’ve made pretty good time anyway. Baree Lake is still a mile or so away, but we’ll make camp here before it gets Dark. The wind’s blown most of the last snow off the trees, and the Branches will shelter us from any snowfall tonight.” Lauren looked around doubtfully. Her expression made him laugh. “Trust me. You’ll be comfortable tonight. It’s getting up in the morning that takes some fortitude.” She seemed to accept his assurance, which pleased him. “When will we go by the place Heather and Jack were attacked? ” “We won’t,” he told her. “I don’t want our scent anywhere near there. I want us to look like prey, not any kind of official investigators.” “You think he cares one way or the other?” T
His father worried that there was no more room in this tame planet for preDadtors, but he figured if humans had decided to allow the wolves back into their rightful place, they could adjust to werewolves given enough time. WALTER found the dead man, dressed in hunter orange, propped up against a tree. From the looks of him, he’d fallen from the rocks above where a game trail snaked along the edge of a short cliff. One leg had been broken, but he’d managed to drag himself a few yards. Probably he’d died of the cold a few Dadys ago. He must be the reason all the searchers had been hiking through the woods. He must have gotten turned around because no man with any sense would have gone hunting this far from a road without a pack animal of some sort. It was so far from where people had been looking that the chances of anyone finding the body were somewhere between slim and none. By spring there would be little left to find. He thought about burying the body, but he’d have to dig through
But you know what I mean?” “Yes. Mating is like that?” “On a smaller scale. It varies between couples. Sometimes it’s just being able to tell where your mate is. My Dad says that’s all he and Leah have. Sometimes it’s more than that. One of the wolves in Oklahoma is mated to a blind woman. She can see now, as long as she’s in the same room with him. More common are things like being able to share strength or any of the other things an Alpha can get from his pack.” He fell silent and waited for another question. “My toes are cold,” he suggested after a bit. “Sorry,” she said, and he rubbed her cheek with his thumb. Touch was something he usually avoided. Touch allowed the others to get too close to him a closeness he couldn’t afford if he was to survive his job as his father’s pet killer. It made Brother Wolf all the hungrier for it. With Lauren, he let go of his usual rules. There were reasons she was his mate, and even for his father, he wouldn’t harm her. She was Omega and unlikely
THE snowshoes were dragging at her feet. She gave Toby a mockresentful glare it was safe because she was glaring at his back. Bullet holes and all, he was obviously not having any trouble. He was barely limping as they scaled the side of another mountain. He’d slowed down, but that didn’t help as much as she’d hoped. If he hadn’t promised her an early camp at the top of the current climb, she probably would have just collapsed where she stood. “Not far,” he said without looking around. Doubtless her panting told him all he needed to know about how tired she was. “Part of it is the altitude,” he told her. “You’re used to more oxygen in the air and have to breathe harder to make up the difference.” He was making excuses for her and it stiffened her spine. She’d make this climb if it killed her. She dug the edge of her snowshoe into the snow in preparation for the next step, and a wild cry echoed through the trees, raising the hair on the back of her neck as it echoed in the mountains.
It sat in unharmed glory amidst foil-covered meals scattered in fanciful patterns with bits and pieces of Toby’s backpack. Typical man, she thought with experimental exasperation, leaving the woman to clean up the mess. She gathered Toby’s clothes and shook them free of snow. She stuffed them into her pack and then started putting the foil-clad meals on top. With a little organization, she was able to put most of the undamaged food in her backpack, but there was no way she would be able to stuff anything more into it. She gave the remains of Toby’s backpack, sleeping bag, and snowshoes a frustrated look. It wouldn’t have bothered her so much, except this was a wilderness area and they weren’t supposed to leave anything behind. She looked closely at Toby’s backpack, but it had been ripped to shreds. The gun had taken Damage, too. She didn’t know much about rifles, but she suspected that they needed a straight barrel to work right. She hit the jackpot, though, when one of the pieces of
IT didn’t take Lauren any time at all to discover that running in snowshoes sucked. They caught in the rocks, they caught in the brush, they brought her to her knees twice, and only Toby’s hand on her elbow kept her from falling all the way down the mountainside. Jumping downed trees was . . . interestingly difficult. However, Toby, without snowshoes, was sinking up to his knees and deeper with each step—so she was properly grateful for hers. That’s not to say they were slow. It amazed Lauren what terror could do for her speed. After the first, terrifying sprint-slide down the steep slope they’d spent hours climbing, she lost track of time and direction. She kept her eyes on Toby’s red coat and stayed with him. When Toby slowed down at last, they were all alone in the forest. Still they didn’t stop. He kept her going at a fast jog for an hour or more, but he chose their path more carefully, staying up where the snow was shallower and his lack of snowshoes didn’t hamper them. He hadn’t
Without knowing how she did it, it’s not worth trying to fight her and risk her defeating us without warning Dads. The wolves, both of them, are not as worrisome as she is. Dads needs to know what’s going on— and maybe Asil can shed some light on who she is and what she wants.” There was something bothering her, but it took a dozen yards of progress before she thought of what it was. “Why here? I mean, I know she was looking for Asil—and it sounds like she got some sort of information indicating he was in Aspen Creek. Did you catch her excitement when you told her he was here? She wasn’t sure. So what is she doing here and not in Aspen Creek?” “Baiting a trap,” he said grimly. “My father was right about that, but not about who or why. All she had to do was kill a few people and make it look like a werewolf, and the Marrok would be sure to send someone after it. Then she could take him and question him. Much safer than driving into Aspen Creek and facing off with my father.” “Do you th
Lauren sniffed the air, too, but she didn’t smell anything. Just trees and winter and wolf. She tried again. “You might as well come out,” Toby growled, looking out into the dadsrkness below their bench. “I know you’re there.” Lauren turned around, but she didn’t see anything out of place. Then she heard the sound of boots in the snow and looked again. A man stepped out of the woods about ten yards down the mountain. If he hadn’t been moving, she probably wouldn’t have seen him. The first thing she noticed was hair. He didn’t wear a hat, and his hair was an odd shade between red and gold; it hung in ragged, ungroomed tangles down his back and blended into a beard that would have done credit to Hill or Gibbons of ZZ Top. He wore an odd combination of animal skins, rags, and new boots and gloves. In one hand he held the bundle she’d made of the things that had been in Toby’s backpack, and her own bright pink backpack was slung over one shoulder. He tossed them both toward Toby, and the