blocked almost entirely by the thick canopy over their heads. She shivered at the sudden drop in temperature. It only served to remind her how warm she’d been snuggled in Declan’s arms.
She glanced at him as they walked. How the heck had she been so wrong about him? She’d thought because he was quiet and introspective that he was boring. But that wasn’t true. The conversation they’d had last night had been the most insightful she’d had with a guy in a long time. And, okay, the topic of their conversation wasn’t the stuff of first dates, but neither was the situation they were in. But she couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather be stranded with than Declan.
Kendra glanced at him again, her gaze lingering a little longer this time. Since they’d started out that morning, she’d spent as much time sneaking peeks at him as she had keeping an eye out for hybrids. It was dangerous, but she wanted to make up for lost time. Even covered in the remnants of their impromptu mud bath yesterday, he was still a sight to behold. Dark blond hair that looked as if he ran his fingers through it all the time, captivating blue eyes, and a square jaw with the perfect amount of scruff. Not to mention a body that wouldn’t quit. Even now, his thigh muscles bunched and flexed under his uniform pants. She’d never noticed how graceful he was for a man his size.
She was still marveling at that when Declan suddenly stopped and held up his hand, fist closed in the universal sign for halt. Kendra immediately dropped to one knee behind the closest tree, her finger curling around the trigger of her M4. She followed Declan’s gaze but didn’t see anything except trees. That was when she realized he wasn’t really looking at anything. Instead, his eyes had that unfocused look he got when he was listening intently. She remembered Ivy telling her once that shifters could get so absorbed in what they were doing that they literally lost connection with the real world.
Crap. If Declan did that in the middle of hostile territory, what the hell was she going to do? Somehow, she didn’t think that smacking him across the face would be a very good idea.
She was just about to softly call his name when he spoke.
“There’s a small group of hybrids moving in this direction. We need to find cover.”
Declan started through the jungle. She immediately followed, checking to both their left and right as he focused on finding them another place to hide.
“Any chance we could just circle wide around them?” she asked.
He shook his head as he veered left and headed up the side of a rocky slope. She had to run to keep up with his long strides.
“There are at least two separate groups out there, maybe three,” he told her. “They’re scattered pretty wide, but we’d have to essentially thread the needle to get past them. We think the hybrids’ sense of smell isn’t very good, but I don’t have a clue what their hearing is like. It’s too risky to try to move past them in broad daylight until we know more about them.”
That answered the other question she’d been about to ask—whether Declan thought they could fight their way through the hybrids. God, she hoped the orchids they’d rubbed all over their clothes this morning still covered their scents.
Declan stopped when they got to a group of palm trees. Low growing, they had thick, brownish fronds hanging down to the ground. It wasn’t as good a hiding place as they’d had the previous night, but based on how fast Declan was moving, the hybrids were too close to give him time to find anything better.
They pushed their way into the palm trees carefully, trying not to break or dislodge any of the hanging grass. There wasn’t much space inside, so she and Declan were forced to crouch side by side.
Kendra slipped the muzzle of her M4 through the cover of their hiding spot, ready to shoot. “How close are they?”
He pointed toward the bottom of the slope they’d just climbed.
As if on cue, three figures came into view. She didn’t have to see the red in their eyes to know they were hybrids. They prowled more than walked, swinging their heads back and forth, noses in the air as if sniffing for something. Crap. One of them was the captain who’d killed his own man on the bank