"I'm not talking about intent. And if I don't use the path, you're technically obeying orders, aren't you?"
"I suppose.” His voice was filled with the doubt she could see in his expression.
"You won't get into trouble,” she assured him. Even if she had to stand in front of him to protect him from the firing squad.
He nodded, accepting her word. She ducked through the trees and began to climb. Now that night had closed in, the shadows were thick and deep under the autumn clad trees. Leaves crunched beneath her feet, a soft, crisp sound that echoed across the stillness. From up ahead came the soft murmur of voices—Cade's rich tone, entwined with a soft, feminine lilt. One of his officers, at least, was female.
Another sound stirred the evening—another footstep, one out of sync with her own.
She stopped, every sense alert as she listened to the gentle stirring of the wind. The person ahead had obviously stopped too, because the only sound she could hear now was the rhythmic rise and fall of the voices ahead. She waited, trusting what she'd heard, knowing she had nothing to lose by simply standing there. After all, that's what she'd be doing down at the truck.
Five minutes passed.
Then, from up ahead and to her right, the steps began again, edging closer to the soft conversation coming from the murder scene. Those steps were too light to be human, meaning it was either a wolf or something else—something with the intelligence or natural cunning of a hunter.
She was betting on a wolf.
Still, she didn't move. As a member of the golden pack, she was gifted with strong telepathic abilities, and while her abilities were far outstripped by her sister, Savannah had more than enough skill to read the mind of almost anyone she chose to. And though it was a gift she didn't often use—simply because it went against all ethics—there were times, like this, when it was simply easier to reach out and discover what she was up against before she charged in.
She carefully lowered her shields and reached out telepathically to the person ahead.
Only to be hit so hard by a seemingly unending wall of hate and violence that she staggered backward and let out a small sound of shock and pain. She quickly shored up her defenses, only to hear the soft steps moving away from the murder scene. She knew the hunter had heard her soft cry of distress.
Still shaking from the force of the other person's hatred, she quickly called to the wolf within. Power rushed through her, an electric feeling that numbed sensation as her body reshaped, reformed. In those brief few seconds, she was without sight, without sound, and vulnerable to attack, which is why she'd chosen to change here rather than closer to whoever was up ahead. Better safe than sorry. In her alternate form, she leapt forward, seeking the scents in the air as she ran, pinning down the few that were different, foreign. Musk and mint.
Relief snaked through her. It wasn't the smell of anyone she knew, though why she'd expected to recognize it she couldn't honestly say.
She dashed through the darkness, following the faint aroma trail, chasing the rush of footsteps across the night. The other wolf was fast, but with each step she drew closer.
Then came the sound of a car door slamming, and two seconds later, the roar of an engine. She cursed, but the words came out as a little more than a rumble of anger as she surged forward. The car had sped away long before she came into the small clearing, and all that was left was the settling dust.
Cursing again, she stuck her nose to the ground and hunted around for any scent or track clues. There wasn't even a decent tire track to be found. She moved back into the forest to see if she could find a footprint, but the thick cover of autumn leaves made that all but impossible. Annoyed, she turned tail and headed back for her truck.
The rhythmic murmurs of voices were no longer coming from the murder site, meaning Cade and his crew had probably shut down for the night. Meaning she was undoubtedly in trouble for not being where she was supposed to be.
But hey, if she had been, she might never have uncovered the fact they had a watcher.
She shifted shape as she neared the end of the aspens, and in human form, strode into the clearing. Cade was leaning against the side of her truck, his arms crossed and his stance radiating annoyance.
A man very unimpressed with tardiness, Kel had noted. For once in her life, it looked as if Kel had actually understated that fact, because he was certainly more than merely unimpressed.
"I hope you didn't reprimand Ike. He was only obeying my orders,” she stated, coming to a halt five steps away from him, out of immediate arm's length. But she was still within range of his heady, masculine scent, and it twined through her senses as sensually as a caress, causing the wildness within to stir in greater agitation.
She glanced at the night-blanketed sky. What the hell was going on? She shouldn't be getting this sort of reaction now—not when the moon was half way through its cycle.
"My orders should have countermanded any of yours.” His voice was edgy, roughened, as if he were feeling the heat of the moon as much as she. “This is my investigation, not yours."
She snorted. “And here I thought we could work as a team."
Something glittered in his eyes—something she couldn't quite catch. Or maybe it was simply the reflection of starlight. “We have several problems on that front."
"Yeah, you think I'm a no-good slut, and I think you're a lying, devious bastard.” And right now, she wasn't inclined to tell him anything. He'd need to know about their watcher, but now that night had hit, there was nothing more he or his team could do, and she didn't need to give him another reason to yell at her. Which he undoubtedly would later anyway.
His anger touched the air, a heat thick enough to burn. “True. But I wasn't talking about either of those problems."
She raised an eyebrow. “Then what the hell were you talking about?"
He hesitated. “I prefer not to discuss it here."