Chapter Eight
When Ethan caught a familiar scent, he was sniffing through the rotting pile of old straw dumped on the far side of the barn. Baby powder. He nosed around a bit more and found a footprint. A child-sized footprint. Hope surged, and he felt like howling in joy. She'd stood here, and not all that long ago.
The baby fresh smell led away from the barn, toward the dark trees ringing the farm's boundary. He took several steps in that direction, then hesitated, glancing over his shoulder.
Something felt wrong. He couldn't pinpoint what it was — just a feeling in the air, a vibration of power that somehow tasted foul.
And whatever it was, it was headed for the house. Kat was inside. He had to warn her.
He took a step, but in that moment, the house literally blew apart. It wasn't an explosion — there was no heat, no noise. One minute the house was there, the next it was in a million deadly splinters.
Ethan froze, and for one horrible moment it felt as if something had grabbed his gut and his throat and his heart and twisted hard.
Then he ran, past the scrambling deputies, out into a yard suddenly filled with smoke and dust and deadly wooden missiles. He sniffed the air, caught Kat's scent, and ran as quickly as four legs could carry him to what was left of the rear of the house.
And saw her. Bloodied, not moving, but definitely breathing. A weight lifted off his chest, and suddenly he could breathe again.
She lay on the ground in a ball. Her arms were scratched, her skirt rucked up and torn, her calf cut and bleeding.
But she was alive, she was relatively unhurt, and that was surely a miracle.
He pulled down her skirt with his teeth, protecting her modesty even though he wasn't really sure if she'd care, then nudged her with his nose several times. When that got little response, he licked the side of her face, his tongue rasping against the sooty silk of her skin. She finally stirred, muttering a curse under her breath before she pushed him away.
"Yuck, Ethan." Though her voice was a little husky, it was strong. She uncurled, wincing a little as she stretched out her cut leg. "Now I smell like dog breath."
He couldn't reply, as much as he wanted to. Couldn't ask if she was okay. So he licked her again, this time across her lips.
She spluttered and finally opened her eyes. "I'm okay.
Will you quit it?"
He sat back on his haunches and eyed the overeager deputy who came rushing over.
"You okay, Miss?"
The jerk knelt beside her, all but pawing her in his eagerness to help her into a sitting position. A growl rumbled up Ethan's throat, and the deputy jumped back.
"Bad dog," she said, green eyes twinkling as she looked at him. "He's only trying to help."
Yeah, and his hands just happened to brush her breasts in the process. Likely story. He continued to glare at the offending deputy, and the kid swallowed. Hard.
"Emergency services have been called. They won't be long, Miss."
The deputy half rose, but she put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. "How's the sheriff?"
"He's conscious, like yourself, Miss." The deputy gave Ethan another look then pulled away from Kat's hand and stood. "But I'll just go double check."
"That was uncalled for," she said softly, glancing at Ethan as the deputy walked away. "Especially since you're the one who said there's nothing between us but sex."
There was nothing between them but sex. But while he was with her, he was going to make damn sure no one else was. The thought stopped him. That sounded territorial. Perhaps wolf instincts were stronger in this form. He couldn't honestly say, because he hadn't worn this form for close to fourteen years.
But by the same token, he didn't want to share her. Not with anyone. Not even the slightest caress. But he couldn't tell her that. Couldn't tell her anything in this guise. And he couldn't risk shifting shape just yet. Benton had apparently asked the sheriff if he could send a team down to see if there were any similarities to their kidnapping case. They were due any minute, and he just couldn't afford to be seen.
Kat rose stiffly, dusted off her hands, then limped over to the sheriff. Ethan followed close on her heels, and the men hovering near the sheriff seemed to sidle away, giving them space. The sheriff was up on his feet, and other than a bloody cut on his cheek and a ripped shirt, looked none the worse for his ordeal.
"You okay?" His voice, like Kat's, was still a little croaky.
She nodded. "I'm going to head back to the cabins and clean up, if you don't mind."
"You don't want those cuts checked first?"
She waved a hand. "They're only minor. You know where I'm staying if you want to talk to me."
The sheriff nodded, and she walked away. The car was parked halfway down the long driveway. Ethan shifted shape as they neared it, flowing from wolf to human form in several smooth steps that belied his lack of practice. He touched her arm and stopped her.
"What the hell are you doing?" Her gaze went past him, studying the farm behind them.
"There's no one near to see us. Are you okay?"
"I told you that already." Irritation touched her voice.
"And how do you know they can't see you? You got eyes in the back of your head now?"
"I can smell them." As he could smell her. Taste her. On his skin. In his mouth. His gaze dropped to her lips. "Can you drive okay?"
"I've only cut my leg. Shift shape before someone sees you. If you want to talk, wait 'till we get back to the cabins."
"I'm not going back just yet."
And neither was she — not until he'd tasted her more fully. His lips claimed hers, his kiss hard, demanding.
Though she made a small sound of protest at the back of her throat, her lips yielded to his. His tongue savoured the sweetness of her mouth as he pressed her back against the car. Her body trembled against him, her nipples hard against his chest. He slid his hand under her soft sweater, caressing their peaks as he pressed his groin against her.
Wanting, needing, to get inside.
She felt so good, so right, that he wanted to keep on tasting and touching her forever. But now was not the time, because there were scents that would not wait. He pulled back. Her breathing was as harsh as his, her pupils wide and dilated. He touched her cheek, thumbing the thin trickle of blood away.
"Sorry."
She took a shuddering breath. "You should be. It's not like you can finish anything right now."
"No." But he certainly wanted to, and that in itself was somewhat surprising, given the number of condoms he'd thrown out this morning. The fever should have been well sated until this evening. "Perhaps tonight."
"Perhaps." Her tone suggested he shouldn't count on it.
Though he certainly did. He took off the ridiculous pink scarf she'd forced him to wear and handed it to her. "I have to go. I found a spoor I have to follow." He shifted shape before she could argue and leapt away.
For two seconds, Kat thought about following him. But if she didn't drive the car away, the deputies would wonder why it was still there and perhaps begin a search. They couldn't afford that, not right now, and not when the zombies and God knows what else might still be in the area.
She took a deep breath that did little to ease the ache of desire, and climbed into the car. Her grandmother was asleep when she entered the cabin. Kat headed into the bathroom and cleaned up the cuts on her face and leg, then made two cups of coffee and carried them into the bedroom. Gwen stirred as she sat down on the edge of the bed.
"You're back," she said, yawning as she sat up. "Did you find anything?"
"A necklace belonging to Janie, and another soul sucker victim." She handed her grandmother the coffee, then leaned against the wall. "This one was an old man, though."