bottom of a perpendicular escarpment. Not climbable. And not accessible by car or truck. The dogs didn’t pick up the trail.”
They reached a wide curve bordered by a sheer drop to a muddied ravine. He fell a step behind so as to not crowd her.
“How’d you pick the scent up?”
Joe curbed a wince at the suspicion-laced emphasis. Definitely not the right time to break the half-breed wolf news. “Dogs track scents on the ground. At most at a two-paw standing level. I look up as well as down.”
It was a lame explanation, but all he could come up with.
The route narrowed, and they entered a thicket of dense pines.
“You go ahead of me.”
He hung back and ran in place. Joe’s night vision allowed him to focus on the mulish line her lips assumed. His mate hated taking orders. Distraction was in order.
“Careful going up. From here the path takes a series of ninety-degree turns, and the elevation increases exponentially. A slow, steady pace is the best way to approach the gradient.” The last sentence virtually ensured she’d race up the hill.
“Gotcha.” Susie twirled and poked his chest. “Beat you to the top.”
Damn it . Even knowing how his mate would react hadn’t prepped him for her lightning dash. She caught him off guard. Before he could take a step, Susie disappeared around one of the near perpendicular bends he’d warned her about.
She ran like Mercury.
Her feet skimmed the packed earth.
“Slow down, woman.”
Instead of complying with his hissed command, she put on a burst of speed and vanished up an abrupt, sharp incline. He scanned the solid tree line, expanded his pupils, and zoomed in on the vegetation. A flash of her white tank top appeared right above him. He leaped the three feet to the trail above.
Her victorious laugh startled a nearby flock of swallows that took flight in a flurry of beating wings, snapped branches, and outraged squawks. He pumped his arms, jumped again, and scented the lemon shampoo she’d used yesterday.
She stopped on a nickel right in front of him.
Joe ran into Susie’s back.
Instinctively he curved his arms around her waist.
Her hands snagged his wrists.
“Can you feel that?” Her dread-laced whisper curled the hairs on his neck.
Touching two fingers to her mouth, he slowed his breathing and listened.
An icy draft slid up his spine.
Not five yards ahead, a wispy curl of fog slithered along the leaf- and needle-packed forest floor. Shaped like a snake with a flat cobra head, the gray band slinked between spindly pine trunks, undulating and mimicking the eerie movement of a slithering reptile.
The moisture that always preceded a Hallie-based fog was absent from the atmosphere. The apparition didn’t have any solidity and appeared to be a collection of cloud-type molecules, or smoke. No sound accompanied the thing’s progress into the forest.
Susie shuddered.
Joe tugged her closer and linked his fingers.
His hackles rose, but he scented nothing strange, just the familiar. Rotting undergrowth, fungus, and a hint of acid? He frowned and searched for the source of the acridity.
Cautiously, in an exaggerated slow motion, she turned in his arms and mouthed, Home?
Stifling the urge to emit a victorious howl, Joe nodded.
Home, she had called his house home.
He met her stare and replied in the same manner, On three. Back down the hill.
Joe held up a finger. Lifted his precious mate and set her in the opposite direction. Swiveled so he stood behind her. Raised another finger.
She angled her head to see him.
Three.
They made it back to the start of the trail in less than six minutes. Just over two miles in under six minutes.
Susan Elizabeth White hadn’t practiced full disclosure with him, not that he expected it at this stage in their relationship.
No ordinary female, not even an Olympic athlete, could manage such a feat. He didn’t utter a word but matched her pace and relaxed into a walk when she did.
“What was that…thing?” She
They reached a wide curve bordered by a sheer drop to a muddied ravine. He fell a step behind so as to not crowd her.
“How’d you pick the scent up?”
Joe curbed a wince at the suspicion-laced emphasis. Definitely not the right time to break the half-breed wolf news. “Dogs track scents on the ground. At most at a two-paw standing level. I look up as well as down.”
It was a lame explanation, but all he could come up with.
The route narrowed, and they entered a thicket of dense pines.
“You go ahead of me.”
He hung back and ran in place. Joe’s night vision allowed him to focus on the mulish line her lips assumed. His mate hated taking orders. Distraction was in order.
“Careful going up. From here the path takes a series of ninety-degree turns, and the elevation increases exponentially. A slow, steady pace is the best way to approach the gradient.” The last sentence virtually ensured she’d race up the hill.
“Gotcha.” Susie twirled and poked his chest. “Beat you to the top.”
Damn it . Even knowing how his mate would react hadn’t prepped him for her lightning dash. She caught him off guard. Before he could take a step, Susie disappeared around one of the near perpendicular bends he’d warned her about.
She ran like Mercury.
Her feet skimmed the packed earth.
“Slow down, woman.”
Instead of complying with his hissed command, she put on a burst of speed and vanished up an abrupt, sharp incline. He scanned the solid tree line, expanded his pupils, and zoomed in on the vegetation. A flash of her white tank top appeared right above him. He leaped the three feet to the trail above.
Her victorious laugh startled a nearby flock of swallows that took flight in a flurry of beating wings, snapped branches, and outraged squawks. He pumped his arms, jumped again, and scented the lemon shampoo she’d used yesterday.
She stopped on a nickel right in front of him.
Joe ran into Susie’s back.
Instinctively he curved his arms around her waist.
Her hands snagged his wrists.
“Can you feel that?” Her dread-laced whisper curled the hairs on his neck.
Touching two fingers to her mouth, he slowed his breathing and listened.
An icy draft slid up his spine.
Not five yards ahead, a wispy curl of fog slithered along the leaf- and needle-packed forest floor. Shaped like a snake with a flat cobra head, the gray band slinked between spindly pine trunks, undulating and mimicking the eerie movement of a slithering reptile.
The moisture that always preceded a Hallie-based fog was absent from the atmosphere. The apparition didn’t have any solidity and appeared to be a collection of cloud-type molecules, or smoke. No sound accompanied the thing’s progress into the forest.
Susie shuddered.
Joe tugged her closer and linked his fingers.
His hackles rose, but he scented nothing strange, just the familiar. Rotting undergrowth, fungus, and a hint of acid? He frowned and searched for the source of the acridity.
Cautiously, in an exaggerated slow motion, she turned in his arms and mouthed, Home?
Stifling the urge to emit a victorious howl, Joe nodded.
Home, she had called his house home.
He met her stare and replied in the same manner, On three. Back down the hill.
Joe held up a finger. Lifted his precious mate and set her in the opposite direction. Swiveled so he stood behind her. Raised another finger.
She angled her head to see him.
Three.
They made it back to the start of the trail in less than six minutes. Just over two miles in under six minutes.
Susan Elizabeth White hadn’t practiced full disclosure with him, not that he expected it at this stage in their relationship.
No ordinary female, not even an Olympic athlete, could manage such a feat. He didn’t utter a word but matched her pace and relaxed into a walk when she did.
“What was that…thing?” She
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