Silas swung the barrel of his rifle toward Trace. Kip screamed. Dodger raced forward, jumping toward Silas.
Dodger hit Silas just as he pulled the trigger. The shot cracked through the wind.
Fire ripped across Trace’s left shoulder, hot and wet. He dropped to one knee and brought his own rifle up. That fucking lunatic had tried to kill him. Trace was glad to take a bullet for Kip, but damn it still hurt like a sonofabitch. .
Amid all the noise and chaos, the wolfdogs stayed by Kip. Dodger returned to his position, standing in front of her, teeth bared up the slope, hackles raised.
Silas ran away from the trees and ridge, disappearing from Trace’s view, the snowfall covering his retreat.
Sev skidded in beside Trace, rifle firing. Chance and Boone moved in on the ridge from Silas’s left. Tanner approached, silent from behind.
Boone sped past them, catching Silas in the headlights of his sled. Launching himself off his sled, Boone hit Silas in the chest. They tumbled across the ground in a tangle of limbs and curses.
Trace lunged forward, but Sev put his hand on Trace’s shoulder. “Hold on, Trace. You’re shot.”
Trace shrugged off his hand. “It was just a graze. Cover Kip. I’m going after Silas.”
Sev moved fast, leaving his sled and positioning himself in front of Kip, his rifle still aimed where Silas and Boone were struggling.
Boone and Silas rolled to a stop. Silas came up first, knife flashing. Trace lunged, grabbing Silas’s wrist and knocking him sideways off Boone. The blade sliced the air, driving down toward Trace.
It was only years of training that allowed Trace to find Silas’s wrist and guide it past his body into Silas’s own gut. Trace drove it down hard. Silas screamed in pain, eyes wide, blood already soaking his coat. Silas lay on the ground, hands wrapped around the knife sticking out of his abdomen, moaning.
He reached into Silas's coat pocket for the handcuff key. Racing back to Kip, he reached toward her through the mass of wolfdogs, then stopped at their snarls. A howl from behind him, and the mass of animals jumped away from Kip and past Trace. He turned for just a minute to see Dodger leading them away into the night.
“Get these cuffs off her.” Handing the key to Sev.
No longer restrained by the cuffs, Kip stumbled into Trace’s arms, her bare skin beginning to chill again after her wolf coat had gone. For half a second, it was the most incredible thing he’d ever felt in his life.
Before he could pick her up and carry her to Silas’s truck and heater, Kip’s head snapped up. “Watch out!”
Somehow, Silas had a pistol in his good hand, pointed at Kip. Blood poured from his belly, but hate kept him standing. “It’s all your fault?—”
Trace spun to put Kip behind him, bracing for a bullet to the back.
Crack.
Trace felt no pain. No heat. Nothing. Holding Kip in place to see Silas on his knees in the snow, blood pouring from his right arm.
Tanner’s shot hit Silas in the right arm, spinning the pistol away into the snow.
Silas collapsed, still alive but no longer a threat.
Trace opened his coat, crushed Kip against his chest, and wrapped her inside its warmth, lips in her hair, breathing her in. “I’ve got you, little fox. I’ve got you.”
Still in shock, she trembled so much her teeth rattled against his neck. “I love you. I knew you’d come for me, Daddy. I knew it.”
He scooped her up and carried her to his sled, being careful to keep his coat wrapped around her. He tucked her bare feet against his thighs. “Love you so damn much, Foxy. And in case you’re wondering, yes, you’re in so much trouble, woman.”
Boone and Sev dragged Silas up and threw him in the bed of his own truck, ignoring his groans of pain, using his own handcuffs to secure his arms. Boone pulled out his phone and called the sheriff. “Sam, Boone here. I need you to meet us at the county hospital. I got a prisoner who needs stitching up, and I think you’re gonna want to talk to him, if he survives till we get there.”
Chance and Tanner fell in on either side of Trace’s sled, rifles across their laps.
Trace hit the throttle and headed home.
CHAPTER 27
Kip bounced on her toes in the mudroom while Trace knelt to zip her new red coat with white trim. She felt like a North Pole princess. The fabric still smelled like the store, but his hands on her felt like home. Kip had taken a while to warm up and recover from her Christmas Eve ordeal the night before, but everyone had been very patient and waited for her to feel up to opening presents. This involved copious amounts of hot chocolate and snuggling by the fire with Trace but it had been worth it. Trace’s present had been especially worth it.
