Blood Trail - By Tanya Huff Page 0,45

was when she saw Storm emerge from the hedgerow about a hundred meters down the road. Tongue lolling, he trotted toward her, sunlight shimmering in the golden highlights of his fur.

Tires growled against gravel, the big sedan picked up speed, and headed right for the young wer.

Vicki tried to yell - to Storm, to Carl, she wasn't sure ut all that came out of a mouth gone suddenly dry was a strangled croak.

Then, in a spray of dirt and small stones, it was over.

Carl Biehn, his car, and his God, disappeared down the road and Storm danced a welcome around her.

As her heart started beating again, Vicki settled her glasses back on her nose, her free hand absently rubbing the warm fur between Storm's ears. She could have sworn... I must've got just a little too much sun.

Finding nothing to interest him in the highly overrated great outdoors, Mark Williams wandered back into the house and pulled a cold beer out of the fridge. "Thank God dear Uncle Carl has nothing against 'alcohol in moderation.' " He laughed and repeated, "Thank God." Hopefully, that blonde bitch was getting an earful of peace and love and the rest of that religious crap from the crazy old coot.

She hadn't been his type anyway. He liked his women smaller, more complacent, willing to be overwhelmed. The kind he could be sure wouldn't go screaming to the police over every little bending of the rules.

"What I like is the kind of woman that doesn't land me in the middle of goddamned nowhere." He took a long swallow of beer and looked out the kitchen window at the fields shimmering in the heat. "Shit." He sighed. "This is all Annette's fault."

If Annette hadn't been ready to blow the sweet little operation he'd been running out of Vancouver, he wouldn't have had to have her killed so quickly that he'd had to hire professional help, and sloppy professional help at that. He shuddered to think of how close he'd come to spending his most productive years behind bars. Fortunately, he'd been able to arrange it so that the hired help had ended up taking the fall. He'd barely been able to close down the business, realize most of the projected profits, and get out of the province before the hired help's family had arrived to demand their share.

"And thus I find myself in the ass-end of civilization." He finished the beer and yawned. It could've been worse; the nights, at least, offered rare sport. Grinning, he tossed the empty into the case. Last night's bit of fun had proven his skills were still as sharp as they'd ever been.

A second yawn threatened to dislocate his jaw. He'd been up until the wee small hours of the morning and been awakened obscenely early. Maybe he should head upstairs for a nap. "Don't want the fingers trembling at a critical moment. Besides," he grabbed another beer to take with him, "there's bugger all else to do until dark."

When an overgrown lilac hedge blocked the line of sight from the road, Vicki silently handed Peter his shorts.

"Thanks. What were you doing with old man Biehn?"

"I came out of the woods on his property." It certainly wasn't going to hurt anything if Peter believed she'd chosen her direction on purpose. "He gave me a ride back."

"Oh. Good thing Uncle Stuart didn't see him."

"Your uncle really ran him off?"

"Oh yeah, and if Aunt Nadine hadn't stopped him, he'd have probably attacked."

Vicki felt her brows go up and she turned her head to look at Peter directly. She gotten used to the disembodied voices of the people walking beside her but occasionally she just had to see expressions. "He'd have attacked over a difference in religion?"

"Is that what old man Biehn said?" Peter snorted. "Jennifer and Marie were six, maybe seven, and Aunt Nadine was pregnant with Daniel. Old man Biehn came over - he dropped by pretty often back then, trying to save our souls, and it was driving us all nuts - and he started talking about hell. I don't know what he said 'cause I wasn't there, but he really scared the girls and they started to howl." Peter's brows drew down and his ears went back. "You don't do that to cubs. Anyway, Uncle Stuart showed up and that was that. He's never come back."

"He was pretty angry about it," Vicki offered.

"Not as angry as Uncle Stuart."

"But you must see him occasionally... "

Peter looked confused. "Why?"

Vicki thought