Ash watched as the woman helped the man up. Once Ash was close, he cleared his throat. They both jumped and reached for weapons, searching the dark in vain.
“All right, mate?” Ash asked, letting them know where he stood.
It took them a few seconds to spot him. “Uh, yeah,” whispered the injured American—a tall Black man whose name Ash hadn’t bothered getting. This wasn’t a team he’d get to know. Or trust. Or, hopefully, spend any significant time with.
Ash moved closer and nodded toward the bloke’s foot. “Looks fucked.” He didn’t keep his voice down. No point after all the yelling, was there?
“Be fine,” the man replied with admirable bravado, given the sad state of his appendage. He was breathing quickly, though. Close to hyperventilating.
“Shelter’s not far.” Ash sniffed the air.
The other two exchanged a look. “You smell something?” the woman asked, nose raised as if trying to locate the odor.
Silly question. There was alwayssomethingto smell. Blood and sour sweat just now, from the injured man. On the frozen river, the air had been greasy with the stench of fuel and, again, blood. With a little distance from the wreckage came the soggy newspaper scent of a boreal forest rising from hibernation, a heady cocktail of sweet conifers, moist bark, iron-rich mud, and bear. Now above it all came a sharp high note that his animal mind had picked up before his conscious brain.
An extinguished wood fire.
They were close to the giant’s lair.
“Have you got what you need to care for that?” Ash asked the woman. At her nod, he set off without looking back. Something much more intriguing drew him forward. Something he’d always had a hard time resisting: a mystery.
Yes, the identity of the big man piqued his curiosity, of course, but that wasn’t what made him as eager. No, what he really wanted to know was why the giant had led this team of hunters straight to his home instead of away from it.
***
Elias grabbed a few plastic water bags and canteens, stuffed some more dried fish into the pack, and made sure he had a supply of watertight wet bags.
The woman swayed on her feet, doing her damnedest to stare him down, her eyes dark, shimmering daggers in her sculpted, brown face. If she weren’t in such bad shape, she’d attack, of that he had no doubt. He’d bet anything the bulge at her ankle was a blade. Bound to be more knives hidden on her.
Who the hell was this woman? She was stubborn and strong. Unwilling to back down against some pretty tough odds, and a pilot who’d handled her aircraft with precision, finesse, and great big fiery balls of steel.
Despite the head wound and the blood and everything else, he noticed, she was attractive. In a dangerous, bristling-with-weapons kind of way. Black, tightly shorn hair hugged her skull, as if to show off a fine, delicate bone structure that needed no added ornaments. Below it, her brown skin looked soft and warm.
Dammit, if he’d gone to town and gotten laid already, he wouldn’t be letting this distract him.
Liar. He’d like her looks and her prickly attitude no matter what. Everything about her was tightly wound, as if she weren’t made of flesh and bones but of pure energy, barely contained in what looked like a muscular body, although that was hard to tell with all those layers on. Her expression was in no way inviting. More like calculating the exact moment she’d put her knife through his jugular.
Whoever she was, her presence here didn’t make any sense.
She wasn’t with the helicopter people. But what was to stop more than one group from coming after him? Though the world thought he was dead, he’d always suspected the authorities had doubts. For all he knew, the entire National Guard could be hot on his trail, along with an army of mercenaries and bounty hunters from the lower forty-eight.
What was it Daisy had said on the phone?On her way to get you. Right. Well,get youcould mean any number of things. No way could he trust this woman. But no way could he leave her to die, either.
Bo growled again. Time to go. His cabin would come under fire any minute now and in here, they had a stalemate. He needed to make a move.
“You don’t want to talk to me? Fine. Talk to them.” He stalked to the door, reached for the bar he’d installed as a barricade, and started to slide it up in what he hoped wasn’t an obvious bluff.
“Wait!”
He let out a long, silent exhale. When he turned back, he caught her eyes racing around the room. Looking for something to say? Trying to buy time until that team of hers showed up? Searching the corners for a weapon or a way out?
“Listen, lady. I don’t know who you are and I don’t know who you’re looking for, but I’m not it. I don’t have time for this bullsh—”
“Leo.”
“What?”
Something thumped outside and Elias dropped the barricade back in its slots.
