Five minutes later, a long strand of ruby red hair glinted at him from a bush, the area thick with her scent. Certain he'd run her to ground, he went to part the bush . . . and only just snapped his hand back in time. His curvy little brand of trouble had almost led him into a thicket of poison ivy. Oh, now he was mad.
Grinning, he looked down and saw her sweatshirt hidden under the bush, likely pushed there by a stick. "Crafty Psy." Aware now of the caliber of opponent he had on his hands, he began to track her in earnest, flying over the earth at inhuman speed, every one of his senses on alert.
There.
She was a mere kilometer from the lake, hair tied back, her arms bared by her T-shirt as she knelt on the ground laying another trap for him. Instead of pouncing on her, he moved silently around to watch. Such a quick mind she had, he thought, seeing how she used the springy branch of a tree and another one of the vines to create her latest snare.
Every other opponent he'd had in this game had tried to mask his or her scent, to confuse and disorient. She was the single one who'd thought to use her time to set traps—and the wolf appreciated her cunning. It was only her lack of speed that had allowed him to catch her. But caught her he had . . . and he had a few tricks of his own.
SIENNA went motionless as her nape prickled in warning. Nothing. No sound, definitely no shout like the one that had gone up when Hawke had walked into the first trap. She'd been less than ten meters away, having had barely enough time to pull it together. Oh, he'd been pissed.
But then he'd laughed.
She'd never expected that, and it had made her understand. A game. They were playing a game. Except for with Toby and Marlee, she'd never played a game before that wasn't connected to learning military tactics. Even with her brother and cousin, she was focused on their enjoyment, more a coordinator than a participant.
This—it was play for play's sake.
The efficient X-Psy inside of her said she was wasting time, but she shushed that voice. Because she'd never felt as light, as young as she did at this moment, sneaking through an ancient forest, trying to outwit a wolf with pale blue eyes and hair of silver-go—"?!#"
The sound that erupted from her throat was unintelligible as she found herself dangling by one ankle at least five feet off the ground. "No," she muttered, staring around in disbelief. But of course the answer was right there in her current predicament. "You win!" she finally called out in a fit of temper.
He appeared out of the forest, looking at her with quizzical eyes. "What are you doing up there, baby?"
"Rrrr." She slapped her hands over her mouth to still the feral sound.
Hawke's cheeks creased into a delighted smile. "Do that again."
Never. "Get me down."
He rocked back on his heels. "What do I get in exchange?"
"I won't fry you to a crisp."
"You wouldn't anyway," he said with such insouciant confidence it was pure provocation.
She shot a bolt of fire past his hair, but he'd already shifted sideways. "Tut, tut. That's cheating."
"Urgh!" Twisting her body with serious effort from her abdominal muscles, she went to aim her hand at the vine, sure she could sever it with her abilities.
"It'll hurt like hell when you fall."
She paused. He'd set his trap so she dangled higher than he had. It would hurt. Dropping back down, she blew out a breath. "What do you want?" It was a snarl; she'd never snarled before.
Walking close enough that he could put one hand under her nape, the other on her lower back, tilting her head up into a more comfortable position, he leaned in so close that all she could see was translucent ice blue. "A kiss for the big, bad wolf."
Her throat locked, the words stuck in her throat.
But he didn't close the distance between them. "Yes?"
Swallowing, she nodded.
"You have to say it."
"Yes," she managed to force out, gripping his shoulder with one hand.
"Yes what?"
Some of her frustration reignited, returning her voice. "You know what? I don't think I care how far I fall!"