Now she just prayed that Jonas, and most especially Cabal, wouldn’t catch her before she managed to do it. If they did, then she didn’t have a chance in hell.
CHAPTER 3
EIGHTEEN HOURS LATER
Cassa was beginning to learn to hate the dark, and as she crashed down the mountain she was cursing her own lack of foresight in not having taken one of those nifty little scent blocker pills. Of course, she was on foot. The tangle of brambles and trees in this part of the forest was too thick for her Jeep to make it through.
Slapping at the vines as she crashed through them, she cursed herself, the Breeds and whoever the bastards were chasing her down the mountain.
She had a feeling that if they were Breeds, then they weren’t the friendly sort. She’d gotten an inkling when her attacker had jumped from a broken cliff above her position and snarled in a less than friendly manner.
The curved canines were her first clue that she was in trouble. The Coyote Breeds had curved canines, and for the most part, if they were chasing her now, then they definitely were not the friendly sort.
She heard a low, vicious growl behind her. The sound of it sent her heart rate spiking and her legs attempting to pump faster. She stumbled and rolled down a steep incline before gaining her feet once again.
This was insane. Coming here at night rather than waiting until morning. She’d been too impatient. The trip to West Virginia had been a nightmare to begin with. A flat tire, then a traffic jam along the interstate that had lasted long enough for her to take a long nap, due to the tanker that had collided with a guardrail before slamming into the face of a mountain.
She’d arrived in Glen Ferris just after dark and had taken the time to do nothing more than check into a hotel before setting her personal GPS with the coordinates that had been sent in the email. After dark.
Her father had warned her before his death that she was going to end up racing into more trouble than she could get out of one of these days. She was certain she had finally met up with that day.
“Nosy little bitch!” The snarl drew her up short as the body of a tall, muscular male Coyote Breed jumped in front of her, blocking her exit.
Cassa let out a girly scream. A high-pitched, surprised scream that pierced her own eardrums before she skidded to the side, went down on one leg and slid past him.
Oh God. Angels watch over her. Jesus, Mary or Joseph, whoever was listening to prayers tonight, just get her out of this one. Get her out of this and she promised she wouldn’t harass Marv for a week. No, make that a month. She’d fix coffee for him. She’d call her old biddie of an aunt, send her flowers or something. She would find some kind of good deed worthy of saving her skin.
A low, dark laugh echoed behind her. “Run, little girl,” the wicked voice called out, the pitch low, the amusement in the tone sending fear snaking down her spine.
She could feel her own breath laboring in her chest and wondered if this would be the last time she would feel it.
“Did someone forget to post the ‘No Reporters’ sign?” A hard laugh sounded behind her again.
God, they were playing with her. Coyotes were like cats playing with mice when it came to their victims. And like the mouse, she was running, running, running, and still they were thrashing behind her, shaking the brambles, crunching through the dead leaves and laughing with evil amusement.
She should have thought, should have put more planning into this.
She should have brought a flashlight. The third sharp branch of the night jumped in her path, and this one slapped her broadside, left her cheek stinging and brought tears to her eyes a second before a sharp tug at her jacket jerked her back and tossed her to the ground.
She kicked and struck something hard, a second before a furious yelp was heard, then she rolled and scrambled to her feet again.
She was almost back up and running. She had her foot planted on the ground, ready to sprint, when a hard hand gripped her jacket again and threw her back.
This time, the breath whooshed from her lungs as she hit the ground. The impact sent pain racing through her, and just as she felt the hard fingers touch her next, she heard a hard, furious animalistic roar echo through the night.
The brilliant rays of a full moon broke through the clouds, illuminating the sight of the darkened figures no more than several feet from her.
Six Breeds—she knew they were Breeds—surrounded three others, quite possibly the Coyotes that had chased her through the forest. But in the center of the small clearing, there were two others facing off. A feral Feline roar sounded through the night once again. It was followed by a low, amused chuckle.
“Cabal, you’re following in your brother’s footsteps a little too closely here. Losing your mate in the forest? Quite possibly a very dangerous thing to do.”
Dog.
Cassa recognized him then. The mocking smirk on his face, the glitter of hard, cold eyes as he faced off with an enraged Bengal Breed.
Both men were tall, bold, powerful. Cassa felt the tension that filled the air now, and stared at the Coyote in amazement as he chuckled once again.
“What the f**k are you doing here, Dog?” Cabal snarled. “Last I heard you were leashed.”