Unless Rourke had an unbelievable plan, we would be running from them indefinitely. A weirdly pungent female and a one-of-a-kind cat on the back of an open motorcycle meant we were going to be easy to track.
I relaxed my death grip on Rourke as we flattened out on the freeway. I likely wouldn’t die if I was tossed from the bike. I was used to being human and it was going to take me some time to stop reacting like one.
Rourke had no such issues, clearly.
My hand dipped into my suit jacket pocket as Rourke weaved expertly in and out of traffic. The smooth panic button brushed against my fingertips. I rubbed it a few times for luck. Then I depressed it. It wasn’t going to help me now, but it felt good to hold it in my hand. “Nick, I’m going to need a pickup soon,” I said into the open air as it blasted by my helmetless face.
“What?” Rourke called over his shoulder.
“Nothing,” I muttered. “Just praying you have a decent plan.”
18
“This is your brilliant plan?” I stood knee-high in the middle of a swift current, my lovely pantsuit swirling around my legs. “You know, man-eating werewolves aren’t afraid to go swimming. If our trail leads to a river, they won’t hesitate to get in.”
“Don’t worry, they aren’t following where we’re going,” Rourke said from behind me. “At least for right now.”
“How can you be so sure?” I glanced over my shoulder in time to see him step into the stream. I forgot my question for a second because he was bare-chested, his shirt and boots wrapped in his leather jacket, which was tucked safely under his bulging and ridiculously muscular arm. He had to be bigger than any wolf by a few good inches and a lot of mass. The man was a beast.
All my things were wrapped in my blazer jacket too, only I wasn’t naked from the waist up.
Thank the good heavens above I’d worn the damn camisole.
The fact that it was white hadn’t escaped me, and if Danny could see me now he’d be laughing his ass off. I’d drawn the line at dropping my pants, and Rourke had kept his on without question. It would’ve been a lie to say I hadn’t been a tiny bit interested in seeing what he had underneath his jeans—or more accurately, my wolf had been extremely interested in what was there, but I was ignoring her.
We had far more important things to worry about.
Somewhere along the line, after trying to fight it repeatedly, I’d realized my father’s command for me to Go had been a strong one—too strong. I wasn’t going to shed it easily. It wrapped around me even now, compelling me to stay with protection and not turn back. The blood I’d taken from him during the oath had bonded us in a strange way. I had no idea if it had done the same for him—if he could feel my emotions or not. I couldn’t read all the notes and emotions clearly just yet, but I knew without a doubt that if he had died, the new things I felt inside me would stop. I prayed everyone was okay and safe. I hated not being there.
My wolf gave me an irritated snap, directing me back to her thoughts.
I’m sorry, but you’re not getting your way. We’re not lifting tail for every good-looking guy we come across. Plus, this one happens to be a highly trained mercenary. Remember? We are here against our will. Don’t forget it.
It was safe to say my wolf and I were still coming down from a major adrenaline rush, and knowing how the last one had ended, I was being extremely careful to keep my lusty thoughts in check.
Instead I’d plied myself with a bucket of beef jerky I’d bought at our last stop. Too bad I didn’t have any left. It wasn’t a comparable substitute for sex, but I’d had to work with what was available.
I watched the water tease the legs of Rourke’s well-worn jeans as he waded deeper into the stream. I tore my gaze from his completely defined stomach as he hoisted his clothes higher in the air. As his arms went above his head, I noticed two tattoos flowing along the inside of each forearm. They were geometric, and beautifully drawn in a deep black ink. My wolf licked her lips. I did love tattoos. Damn.
He stalked, he didn’t walk. And honestly, if I hadn’t been raised around supernaturals, and hadn’t just become one myself, his presence would’ve been almost too intense.
“Up ahead about ten miles”—Rourke gestured—“is a sulfur stream, and about a mile beyond is a small cabin. The only way to get there is to climb straight up. It’ll take the wolves some time to pick up our scent again after the stream, but by the time they arrive, we’ll be long gone.”
We were currently somewhere in the foothills of the Ozarks, according to Rourke. Nothing looked familiar. Day had broken around us and the morning light seeped between the trees. My guess was it was around seven-thirty or eight in the morning. Rourke had taken a series of back roads, trying to throw any pursuers off our scent, but we both knew it was only a matter of time before the big bad wolves caught up to us.
“Did you just say ten actual miles?”
Rourke chuckled. “Yes, and the last one is straight uphill.” He sloshed over to me. “Here, hand me your jacket.”
I unrolled my shoes, gun, and dirk, and handed the jacket to him without question. He took it and passed me, continuing up the bank on the other side. “And don’t worry, I have a feeling you can handle the climb just fine. I’ll be right back. I’m going to lay a scent trail on the other side to buy us more time.”
I watched his powerful body run up the short grassy hill, my jacket dangling from his right hand as he disappeared into the dense forest along the edge of the embankment.
The cold water lapped at my ruined clothing as I stood in the stream for another few minutes waiting for him to return. At this point, what else was I going to do? His bike was stashed a few miles behind us in a shallow cave, and for the last half hour we’d trudged through thick forest to this riverbank. There was no going back now.
It was way too late for that.
I shifted in the water, wading a little closer to the shoreline. I glanced up and down the river. There was dense tree growth running along both sides as far as I could see. Some large rocks dotted the creek bed, but otherwise the river looked fairly tranquil, running no more than a few feet deep.
“Miss me?” Rourke rejoined me by leaping from the embankment to the edge of the stream. He strode forward, splashing though the water with little care, extending my jacket out to me. I took it from him and rewrapped my things.
“In your dreams,” I said. “Where to now?”
“We head upstream until we hit sulfur, and then take a hard right straight up into those mountains.” He pointed over the tops of some of the trees. The peaks were barely visible.
He dropped his arm and took off.
I sloshed after him. “You couldn’t have picked an easier hidey-hole to get to?”
“Easier means company.”
“The wolves will catch up to us eventually,” I grumbled right as I slipped on a medium-sized rock, catching myself before I tumbled all the way in. My reflexes were much better now as a wolf. Thank goodness, or my ass would’ve been soaked. “Wolves are tenacious, you know.”
“By the time they find us, we’ll have come and gone.”
“Rourke,” I called to his quickly retreating back. “You know I’m not staying with you for more than a day, right? Once I get confirmation from my Pack, I’m heading back the way I came. I’m not jumping from hidey-hole to hidey-hole with you.”
He grunted a response.
After long miles with not a lot of rest, we came to a natural pool framed by a number of large boulders, a strong eddy swirling at its center. It was fed by a steady trickle of extremely stinky water erupting out of a crack in a giant rock. The smell of rotten eggs permeated the air. I took another whiff. “Wow, that’s awful,” I said. “Does it smell this bad to humans?”
Rourke climbed onto one of the rocks bordering the pool. A lock of his sand-colored hair fell over his forehead as the sun reflected on his still bare chest, illuminating the tiny droplets of water stuck to him from walking in the stream.
&
nbsp; That man should be arrested, I grumbled at my wolf. It was a grumble kind of day.
My wolf let off a low growl, her eyes tracking Rourke’s every move, but they were sounding less like growls and more like purrs. The hair on my arms began to stand on end without my permission. I hugged my jacket-wrapped weapons tighter to my chest. I hoped like hell he didn’t notice the effect he was having on me. It was embarrassing.
When he didn’t answer my question about the sulfur, I asked, “What?” a little defensively. “It’s a legitimate question. It’s getting harder for me to remember how I smelled things before as a human. Things are muddled.”
His eyes danced for a moment and I caught a quick flash of green, like a lighter sparking right before it jumps to full flame. “It smells more mild to humans, not like it does to us. Sulfur is a powerful natural element. It does a good job of masking our scent naturally. When the wolves arrive here, they’ll have a hard time picking up our trail with a nose full of sulfur.” He grinned mischievously. “Now I’m going to need you to submerse yourself in the pool.” He gestured out to the middle. “Completely.”
“Is that really necessary?” I eyed the pool. “Can’t we just splash ourselves with that?” I pointed to the stream trickling out of the rocks. “It smells much worse.”
“We will need to do both.” He set his jacket and boots down on an exposed rock. “The water in the pool will strip us of our sweat, the sulfur stream will mask us on the way out.”
He didn’t wait for a reply, instead he dove straight into the deepest part of the pool, surfacing a good distance away. It appeared to be quite deep. The sunlight glinted off his wet hair, making him look like some kind of water deity when he surfaced.
It so figured.
“I thought cats hated to get wet.”
He gave me a cagey grin. “There’s nothing I like better than being wet.” He dove under, his broad, powerful back skimming just under the surface.
“Fine,” I muttered, resigning myself to my fate. “Whatever you say.” I set down my jacket wrapped with goodies and picked my way to the edge of the pool.
My white camisole had stayed dry for the most part, but my black pants were completely soaked from splashing my way through the river. I bit my lip. On second thought, I went back and plucked up my jacket, untangling it from the pile, leaving my weapons and shoes sitting exposed on the rock.
I picked my way over to another area, the one closest to the sulfur stream, and hung it carefully on a dead tree branch jutting over the pool so I could grab it when I emerged soaking wet.
I turned back to the pool. Rourke was grinning at me again. “No need to be smug about it, cat,” I growled. “I’m getting in the damn water.”
Rourke’s laughter bounced off the boulders and echoed back into my ears. “Nothing smug about me, sweetheart.” He turned onto his back to float. “Just taking some time out of my busy day to enjoy the beauty around me.”
“You’re lucky I grew up around a bunch of wolves. I learned early on to check my modesty at the door.” Well, mostly anyway. I glanced at my dangling jacket.
It was nice to have a backup plan.
I turned back to the pool, contemplated my fate for a second, and dove off the rocks.
Right into a pool with a predator who looked like he wanted to eat me for breakfast.
19
“Rourke?” I asked as we swam. “With what you know about the supernatural world, do you think my Pack is winning this battle? I absolutely hate that I’m not there. I know very little about the Southern wolves, but from what I do know, it seems surprising that they’re this efficiently organized. Redman Martin is an arrogant asshole from the stories I’ve heard over the years, so it’s understandable, but it seems strange that he would wage a war so soon, after what happened with the division of Pack lines all those years ago.” Red Martin was the Alpha of the U.S. Southern Territories and he and my father were enemies. It was because of Redman that there were two U.S. Packs instead of one.
“I have a hard time believing any other wolves can best your father and his Pack,” he answered. “He’s a powerful leader and his wolves are fierce fighters. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I’ve only ever had a few run-ins with Red, but as much as he is arrogant, he’s equal parts lazy. He likely wants to ransom you to the highest bidder or has some other slimy, easy-to-profit-from plan in place. It may even be as simple as he wants to pay back your father for any perceived wrongdoings. My guess is the fighting won’t last long once they find out you’re gone. You’re their prize. No prize, no fight. He knows he won’t win a combat battle, which is why no wolves were fighting on the streets. They were looking for you. You did your Pack a favor by leaving.”
I hoped what he said was true. We didn’t swim for very long, time being of the essence. Rourke emerged first, and I watched him from my spot on the other side of the pool. He picked his way over the rocks with ease, his jeans conveniently sticking to all the important parts. Water sluiced off his shoulders, running down his back in cascading rivers. His hair looked much darker wet than it had dry.
He tilted his head at me, like he was enjoying the weight of my stare. Cocky bastard. At that precise moment, the sun glinted perfectly on his irises and they flashed the palest green, almost white.
“Rourke, your eyes are completely insane.” I swam over to the edge closest to where he was standing and stared, shielding my eyes to the sun as I glanced up. “Humans must comment on them all the time. How do you explain them away?”
He shrugged like having diamonds for eyes was a normal everyday occurrence. “If I think they deserve an answer, I usually tell them I have my mother’s eyes,” he said. “And if I don’t, I tell them it’s none of their goddamn business.”
“And they actually believe you?”
“Humans already know they’re going to have to accept whatever excuse I give them, before they even ask. Thinking I’m ‘Other’ is not an option. So they ask with the idea that they’ll get a logical explanation, and once I give them one, they usually take it without question.” He gave me a lopsided grin, which made him seem more human. “But sometimes it takes a little more finesse on my part to win them over.”
“Are they really your mother’s eyes?” I asked, choosing pointedly to ignore my wolf, who bristled at the “finesse” part. He’s not ours, I scolded. He can finesse anyone he wants. She bit the air.
“I guess you could say that,” he said. “My shifter genes came from my father, like everyone’s do, but my mother had very unusual eyes to begin with, or so I’d been told. I don’t remember her much. It was a very long time ago.” He grabbed his clothes and started around the pool toward the sulfur trickle coming out of the large boulder.
I swam over to where my jacket was hanging and hoisted myself up. I turned away demurely and was about to put it back on to cover myself when Rourke cleared his voice right behind me. “Um, sorry, sweetheart, but I’m going to need that jacket now.”
“Huh?” I asked, dripping wet, arms crossed over my chest.
“Scent trail. Our scent stops at this pool.”
I took my jacket off the branch with my index finger and reluctantly swung it out to him. He took it and walked to the edge of the pool, grabbed a large piece of floating wood and draped my jacket over, and sent it off. I watched with a heavy heart as my coverage floated down the stream. “Wait, you just sent my jacket downstream where we just came from. How is that going to help?”
“It will eventually float to shore. Hopefully that’s where they’ll think we got out. Having a buildup of your scent downstream can only help us.” He headed to the sulfur without looking back, and started cupping the smelly water and splashing it all over his body.
I made my way over to him. “You just sent my modesty downstream for a two-minute diversion?”
“Hey, I’ll take any advantage I can get.”
“That wasn’t an advantage, that was sneaky.” I walked up next to him and started pour
ing water over my head, cupping my hands tightly to catch it. It smelled awful this close, like rancid eggs right in my nostrils. Rourke stayed focused on his task. At least he wasn’t trying to ogle my breasts. Though it would’ve been easier to dislike him if he had. Instead I was feeling quite the opposite. He was just so … normal. Not at all what I’d been expecting. It was throwing me off. We have to remember he’s dangerous, right? My wolf huffed at me, and instead of agreeing, she flashed me a picture of him getting out of the pool without his jeans. Stop it! You’re not helping! He could snap at any moment and try to kill us. She turned her back on me. Plus, he doesn’t seem to be that into us anyway. Other than a few lighthearted comments, and some dazzling smiles, he hadn’t sent us any real signals.
I cleared my voice and hoped I sounded normal. “Rourke, what kind of werecat are you?”
He seemed genuinely surprised by the question. Then he narrowed his eyes, flashing me a toothy grin. “I never kiss and tell on the first date.”
He turned back to the putrid water and splashed more of it on his chest.
My wolf licked her lips and let out a mew. We don’t mew.
She snuffed at me.
“Come on, you can tell me.” I moved in beside him, cupping more water between my palms. “I won’t spill your secret. I’ve got enough to worry about, why would I have any reason to tell?”
We stood close and heat from him radiated into my body, along with his strong power current. It prickled my skin again like a million tiny pressure points tapping at the same time. Standing this close to him was an at-my-own-risk kind of deal, but I was doing it anyway. Rourke turned, tendrils of water snaking their way down his body, disappearing under the lip of his denim. A spark ignited somewhere deep in his eyes, and chills ran down my spine. That had been a little on the “real” side.
He said, “I haven’t told a single person in over five hundred years what I am, and I’m not planning on breaking my streak now.”
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