When she hit town, her legs were burning, her anger was building. She was nearing the entrance to the Kanawha Falls when a wicked, powerful black Harley pulled in from the parking lot and drew to a stop.
Dog.
His smirk was mocking, amused, as he glanced from her to the Raider.
“Want a ride?” he asked.
“I won’t ride with him, why would I ride with you?” she snapped.
“Maybe because I’ll give you answers, and he’d die and go to hell first?” he asked as she drew to a stop a second before Cabal did.
“Better hurry, here he comes,” Dog laughed as the Raider drew to a quick stop.
Cassa pushed aside her misgivings about Dog, jumped on the back of the Harley and crossed her fingers with a prayer that she’d survive the ride.
Dog wouldn’t hurt her so blatantly, she told herself, as she heard Cabal’s vicious curse behind her and Dog roared off.
“Answers,” she bit out furiously. “As you said, we don’t have much time.”
“You’ve been f**king up, Ms. Hawkins,” he called back to her as she gripped the leather jacket he wore rather than wrapping her arms around him. She couldn’t bear the thought of embracing him.
“No kidding,” she said tersely. “Now tell me something I don’t know.”
Dog took the curves through the little town faster than she would have liked. The motorcycle vibrated and hummed like a powerful beast between her thighs and reminded her of the fact that she shouldn’t be here, not like this, not with this Breed.
“Something you don’t know?” he called back. “Something you don’t know, Ms. Hawkins, is the same thing that your Bengal is figuring out.”
“Just keep me in suspense, why don’t you?” she called back as they neared the inn. “And if you don’t mind, don’t pass up my lodging.”
His big body vibrated with a chuckle as he turned into the inn’s parking lot, pulled around and parked close to the entrance, as Cabal pulled in behind them.
“Ask him why the killer contacted you, Ms. Hawkins,” Dog suggested as she slid off the motorcycle. “Because he knows why you’re here.”
His statement had her stopping and staring back at him, her eyes narrowing, aware that Cabal was jumping from the Raider and moving toward them.
“Why?” she snapped.
“Because Watts was part of the Dozen, Cassa. He was part of it, and he’s the one the killer wants.”
With that surprising statement, Dog gunned the motor on the Harley and shot out of his parking space a second ahead of Cabal reaching them.
Cassa stared up at her mate, shock resounding through her as she saw the suspicion in his eyes, the knowledge. It was there, in the brilliant pinpoints of amber that gazed back at her. He had a piece of the puzzle that she should have had. He’d known something that important, and he hadn’t told her.
“What would make your rogue killer think I can bring Douglas back from the dead? Or does he just think I should continue paying for his crimes?” Her voice was hoarse with tears she refused to shed, with an anger she refused to let free.
“Fuck!” The muttered curse was a testament to the rare honesty Dog had become afflicted with.
A part of her had hoped it was a lie, that the Coyote Breed didn’t know what he was talking about. Dog wasn’t known for his loyalty to the Breed community, quite the contrary. He was known for working with their enemies. In his own way of course. Rumor in the past year was that even Dog’s handler wasn’t always certain which side he was playing on.
“Yes, f**k,” she stated with cold emphasis on the curse. “Fuck all of it, Cabal.”
Turning, she stalked away from the Bengal, ignoring the need just for his touch. It wasn’t sexual this time, and it should have been. Mating heat was reputed to always be sexual.
No, the need twisting inside her now was a need for his touch, for his hold. A need to curl against him and, for once in too many years, just heal a little.
She’d been alone since her parents’ deaths, twelve years before. On the heels of that had been her marriage. Douglas had moved in, taken over and slowly destroyed the self-confidence Cassa had had within herself.
How easy she had been, she thought as she pushed into her room and tossed her pack on the nearby table. She had thought she loved him when she married him, but as the months went by, she realized it had been her grief that had had her leaning on him.