Cole glanced from the dead wolf to Logan, then back again. “He’s dead, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And he was a shifter? From your pack?”
Logan nodded and wondered if Cole had ever seen a shifter in wolf form before. “He’ll change back soon.” He went to limp towards the kitchen, needing a drink to wash his mouth out with, but hissed in pain when his injuries made themselves known.
The wound on his leg was healing nicely, but his shoulder had taken a bit of a battering. Maybe he should stay put for a moment. Accepting defeat, Logan gently lowered himself to the floor again. Then he cast an eye over Cole, looking for injuries. He was covered in blood. The whole hallway stank of it, but Logan’s gaze landed on Cole’s leg as the vision of the wolf dragging him out of the bathroom came back to him. “You hurt?” He pointed to the bloodied hem of Cole’s jeans.
“Just a scratch, I think.”
“You sure?” The bottom two inches of his jeans on his right leg were stained with blood, but Cole didn’t seem to notice. Shock, maybe?
“Yeah, it had hold of my trainer with its teeth, and its claws caught my ankle, that’s all.” Cole shrugged a shoulder, then immediately winced. “Fucker shot me before he shifted, though.”
Bollocks.
“Where?” Logan tried to scent the air, but the tang of blood was too thick to discern where Cole was bleeding.
Cole let go of the gun and touched two fingers to the top of his left shoulder. “Here. I think it went in and out the other side, or maybe grazed it. I don’t know.” His skin looked pale, the faint scent of sweat detectable over the blood.
As much as Logan wished they could stay here and rest for a bit, they needed to move before anyone came to check on his two pack members.
And they would soon enough.
“Hey.” He waited until Cole focused on him. “We need to get you cleaned up and leave.”
Cole snorted.
Not the reaction Logan was expecting, but he’d take it over the blank look Cole had a minute ago.
He waved a finger at Logan. “I think you need to get cleaned up more. And maybe find some clothes.”
Logan glanced down at himself. “Shit.” Naked and smeared with blood. Both his and the guy’s he’d just killed. Maybe Cole had a point.
He flexed his leg and rolled his shoulder. Not all the way healed but good enough.
Standing, he took a moment to look around them, scenting the air like he should’ve fucking done before now. What if there were more than two? He held a finger up for Cole to shush, then closed his eyes and listened.
The cottage was quiet: just Cole’s breathing and the ticking of an old-fashioned clock somewhere. None of the scents stood out as shifter except the two he’d killed and Sadie’s. He got a strong smell of blood coming from near the front door, and when he walked over that way, he saw the body of the woman who’d let them in—dead.
He’d figured as much, but seeing it for himself was still shocking.
How the fuck had they found out?
Not that it mattered now. His priority was getting them out of there and to the next safe place in one piece.
The cottage wasn’t lived in all the time as far as he knew. Maybe it was used as a weekend getaway? They didn’t use the same place every time, so could be they were just out for the evening.
Hopefully they’d have clothes though.
Otherwise he’d have to shift.
Jogging back into the hallway, he almost bumped into Cole coming the other way. “Whoa, sorry.”
“I didn’t want to stay there.” He hooked a thumb over his good shoulder. “With him.”
Shit. Of course he didn’t. “I’m gonna run upstairs, clean up a bit, then try and find some clothes. Why don’t you have a look to see if there’s a first aid kit anywhere. Okay?”
