“I don’t recommend trespassing on our land after dark, sir.” He smiled, a quick, dangerous flash. Then lifted his chin toward the man who still held his weapon trained on Luc. “We’ve been known to shoot first and ask questions later.”
12
A loud bark from somewhere close by startled Luc from his slumber in front of the fire. Bleary-eyed but alert, heart beating fast, he took in his surroundings.
Living room. Right.America, not France. At the door stood Le Dog, whose presence was more necessary than ever.
“What is it?” Luc asked, standing up from his comfy armchair. He waited a few moments. No more sounds from outside.
Back to staring at the fire, trying to drown himself in bourbon or… He grasped the bottle by the neck and squinted at the label.Virginia Straight Bourbon Whiskey. Made locally. If the locals drank it… He shrugged, took a sip from his glass, and set the bottle back down. No point going against the grain.
He settled back into the worn leather.
Another noise outside, a metallic thud, had him up and out of the chair in a second, bottle and glass forgotten. His head cocked like the dog’s, who let out an alertwoof.
“Bon garçon.”
Whatever it was, it was close.
Another noise, a softer scuffling this time, sent Luc to the window. Tonight, for the first time, he had closed the curtain. He tweaked it back and stared outside. Nothing moved, but Le Dog remained at attention. He jammed his feet into his boots, grabbed his coat, and yanked open the door. He shooed Le Dog back inside. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”
Outside, the air hit him hard, shocking his lungs into momentary paralysis. He inhaled sharply and zipped up in a hurry.
He took a few steps, walking straight through the fog of his own breath to the edge of the porch, and waited for another sound, a clue as to its direction. Nothing.
Well, merde.
That first sound had been metallic, like…
The old shed, which sat a couple dozen meters farther uphill. He hadn’t bothered securing that door, since he had no current use for the building, but that must have been it. Or an animal. It could be an animal.Possibly.
This late at night? Too loud to be one of the chickens, who were all snug in their coop.
Perhaps it had been the wind. Unless…a fox? He grasped at that notion.
You could never be too careful with the fauna around here. He’d heard of bobcats and the like coming down from higher elevations in search of food. Although this blizzard should have been a deterrent, it could have pressed some poor creature to take extreme measures. Big cats, hungry and cold, might be attracted to a place like his.
Either way, Luc eyed the snow covering the ground, turned, and backtracked to the cabin, where he grabbed his rifle.
The snow was blowing, big gusts of it, with a cold that felt bone deep. Sharp.
A shiver of foreboding slid down his spine.
He tried not to think about the neighbors. Tromping over there might well have set off a shitstorm on the mountain. In his own damned backyard. Not his best move.
Another few steps, stomping through inches of snow—blinded by it—before he was stopped by that furtive noise. It told him whatever else this was, it was alive, awake, and up to something. A wave of adrenaline-fueled anger flooded him. He lifted his rifle, realizing a second too late that he’d have been better off armed with a piece of wood in the close quarters of the shed than something that needed to be aimed from a few feet away.
Too late to turn back, he yanked open the door, weapon raised…and stopped.
Nothing.
Dammit. He’d been sure it was in here. Slowly, with the tingle of another presence as solid as the shoes on his feet, Luc backtracked. Two steps out, and instead of left toward home, he turned right and almost walked right over her.
In the split second before he moved, Luc took in the scene. Against the outside corner of the shed, pale and ghostly and barely visible against the falling snow, lay a human being. A woman.
Abby.Her body a Rorschach pattern of light and dark, like something out of a Japanese horror film.
“Putain de merde,” he breathed, not understanding what he saw. His stomach twisted into a knot of confusion.
