The Vow (Black Arrowhead #1) - Dannika Dark Page 0,16

still standing on it. I decided to save my matches for later.

“See you ’round?” Crow asked. “I’m here most days, just in case you change your mind and want some company. There’s not much to do around here but drink, hunt, and play bingo.”

A group of men drifted toward the billiard room. Lakota was among them and deep in conversation with a shorter man. He didn’t look my way, and I took that as my cue to leave. I wasn’t sure whether I would tell Hope about our chance meeting or keep it to myself until the next time Lakota swung into town. Either way, it was going on my list of weird encounters of the Shifter kind.

I smiled at Crow and grabbed the map. “Arrivederci.”

“Music to my ears.”

Chapter 4

“Music to my ears?” I muttered while driving. “What was that supposed to mean?”

The rain had finally tapered off, but I still drove way below the speed limit so as not to miss any turns. Crow’s enigmatic reply had me baffled, and I thought about what I’d said to him before leaving the bar. So I grabbed my phone and did a quick lookup of the word arrivederci.

“Until we meet again? Swell. All this time, I thought it meant goodbye. So much for being the educated city girl.” I tossed the phone in the seat next to me. “Now he’s going to think I was coming on to him.”

Shifters—especially wolves—loved the dance of hard to get. Men had to prove their worth. Living with a pack had taught me that a woman should set the bar high so her suitors would work hard to win her affection.

Hopefully Crow had interpreted my fumbled remarks as disinterest and not an invitation to pursue me. The last thing I needed was some smooth-talking Shifter with a sexy smile and blue cowboy boots following me around with his tail wagging. Or worse, following me all the way back home to Austin.

I turned off the air conditioner to keep from shivering to death since my clothes were still wet. It didn’t take long before the air inside the Jeep felt stuffy, especially with the humidity and heat outside. Still, a little rain was always a nice reprieve from the scorching July heat.

My stomach cramped again, reminding me to never again eat strange, improperly cooked meats. Or maybe it was the fries. Something wasn’t agreeing with me, and it felt like a civil war brewing in my digestive tract.

The blinker clicked noisily as I turned right and traveled up a bumpy dirt road. Mud splashed on the undercarriage, and tiny pebbles popped against the metal frame. Signs warned against trespassing, and one cautioned to look out for venomous snakes. I had to laugh. Packs often put up signs along their property to scare away nosy humans. Then again, maybe the place really was infested with snakes. I shuddered at the thought. I hated snakes. Maybe hate was too mild a word to describe how much I loathed them.

In the dimming afternoon light, dark clouds loomed, weighted with the promise of more rain. A man walking in my direction turned a sharp eye at me. I slowed the vehicle and waved so he could get a good look and see that I wasn’t a threat. His expression remained impassive, and when I continued driving, I looked in the rearview mirror and noticed a long braid down his back like the men I’d seen in the bar.

“Nice digs.”

Shikoba lived in a two-story cabin of epic proportions. But to call it a cabin was a gross understatement. A long balcony stretched around the outside of the entire second floor, and it had either third-level suites or attic space. Several vehicles, though not enough to crowd the property, were parked along the tree line to the right. If they lived off the land and did most of their work out of the house, they probably had no need for more than a few. Brown gravel covered the front yard, providing traction and protecting the Jeep from the red dirt beneath.

I stared at a group of men standing on a cleared plot of land to the left. Some of them had muddy shoes and hands, and one of them twirled an axe. Had I not seen the target boards made of tree slices, I might have turned the Jeep around and called it a day.

One of the men jogged up to my Jeep and pounded his fist on the hood. I stopped