Wild Hunt - Kali Argent Page 0,35

to admit—albeit grudgingly—that it might actually work.

“Cade?” Outside the double doors that led to the makeshift living quarters, Mackenna took his hand and pulled him to a stop. “Can I talk to you?”

“Don’t worry, Mack.” He tugged the end of her braid and tried to project confidence. “It’s a good plan.”

“I think it is, too.” She didn’t smile. “I wanted to talk to you about something else, actually.”

Only three times in his life had a woman told him they needed to talk, and not once had it ended well. Something told him he wasn’t going to enjoy this conversation, either.

“Yeah, of course. Let’s take a walk.”

Holding her hand, he led her back down the corridor, through the rec room, and out the glass doors of the front entrance. The sun had just started to peek over the mountains in the distance, illuminating the sky in a kaleidoscope of colors. The wind had settled to a light breeze, but the morning was still cold and damp, leaving a thick frost over the ground.

The grass crunched beneath their boots as they rounded the side of the hospital toward a path that led into a small wooded area to the east. A thick layer of fog rolled across the forest floor and coiled around their legs, dampening the fabric of his cargo pants.

He’d be glad to finally get the hell out of Colorado. It was a beautiful state, no doubt, but he was not built for the cold.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“I grew up in Nevada, in a little town about eight hours from here.”

Not where he’d thought the discussion was headed, but she didn’t sound angry, which he took as a good sign. “Okay.”

“I was on my way there when the Hunters took me.”

“Right. You told me the first day we met.”

She stared out toward the mountains, her eyes glazed and unfocused. “I never knew my dad. He bailed before I was born, so it was just me and my mom.”

Cade remained quiet, watching her as she watched the sunrise.

“She died when I was thirteen.” She shivered visibly and finally turned to meet his gaze. “A stupid rock climbing accident. Wolves can heal from a lot, but…”

When she didn’t continue, he wrapped an arm around her neck and pulled her close. “I’m so sorry, Mack.”

“I didn’t have anyone else, no other family, so my best friend and her mom took me in. They became my family.”

He finally gave up and had to ask, “What are you trying to tell me?”

“I was on the phone with Jess right before my tire blew. That was the last time I spoke to her. I don’t even know if she’s alive, but I need to find out.”

Resting his chin on top of her head, he squeezed his eyes closed for just a moment, then wiped all emotion from his expression. He wished to hell she would have asked anything else of him.

“That’s really not a good idea.”

“I know, but I have to do it. I have to know.”

“Mack—”

“I can go on my own, but I’ll need a vehicle.”

Like hell she could. “Not going to happen.” She’d lost her fucking mind if she thought she was going anywhere without him, especially clear to another state. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Everything is dangerous now.” There was no heat to her argument, which made it all the more effective. “I know it’s crazy, and it probably doesn’t make any sense to you.” Sighing, she eased back and lifted her head. “I don’t even know what I’m expecting to find. I just know that I have to try.”

The safe house was located on the edges of Demon Alley, a stretch of Deadlands from Missouri to Colorado controlled by werewolves. Being a werewolf herself should have afforded her indemnity, but even a shared species didn’t mean shit anymore. It sure as hell hadn’t done anything for Rhys or Deidra.

Rhys had been imprisoned by his own pack, and Cade wouldn’t wish the kind of torture they’d put the guy through on anyone. Deidra wasn’t one to wear her heart on her sleeve, but from the few things she’d let slip, he gleaned that she’d survived something similar, also at the hands of her own kind.

Past the border and into Nevada, they entered shifter territory. He knew nothing about the packs, tribes, or clans that roamed the western part of the country. Some had described them as more civilized than the werewolves, less vengeful. He hoped that was true, for all their sakes,

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