“No women.” Darien said, his voice harsh, annoyed she’d offer to join them.
“Why? Think I might want to kill her, too? Or maybe you’re a tad worried about little ol’ me? But I can handle myself.” Silva smirked. “The woman’s got spunk and she deserves our help.”
Considering his options, another body that would fill the gap couldn’t hurt. “Stay with one of the men at all times.”
“Jeez. Darien, I would almost think you have a thing for me.” She blew him a kiss and sidled up to Sam. “Want to be my team mate?”
“Okay, those who want to continue the search, do so. The rest get some sleep. Let’s get moving.” Darien took off with a lengthened stride, determined to find her before the night was over.
“What do you think is going on?” Jake ducked under the branch of a spruce.
“Gunman’s human.”
“Why go after our brother? Why go after the red?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Darien stopped to sample the breeze. The scent of other grays, a deer, a rabbit. pinesap, fall, nothing else. “He wasn’t after Tom. I suspect. Just the red. Except Tom was following her and would have protected her.”
“You still think your mate committed suicide?”
Yeah, and it was his damned fault. Whirlwind romance, although she’d seemed uncertain about becoming his mate, worried his people would revolt over her being a red, but anxious about something deeper that he could never get her to reveal. Maybe if he hadn’t pushed her to be his mate. But hell, she was his soul mate, the one he’d dreamed about for months. And she’d finally revealed she’d had the dreams about him, too. How could he let her go?
He shook his head. “I don’t know what to think.” Darien still harbored the same deep-seated feelings— that she’d committed suicide. He finally admitted. “She’d tried before.”
Jake’s mouth dropped. “When? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“She was sorry. Told me she wouldn’t try again and begged me not to tell the others.”
“A pack leader has to have a strong mate, Darien, pack rules. You should have at least told me.”
“I promised her.”
And it got her killed. Maybe if he’d deep down listened to what was bothering her. Sleepless nights, medicine to aid her sleep, but still she kept waking, fearful, exhausted, out-of-sorts. Hell, when she managed to kill herself this Ume, he never doubted it was for real.
‘Why did she try before?”
“She wouldn’t say. She was a private person. She was overly tired, distraught—”
“Pregnant.”
Darien’s face heated, anger and regret warring with his emotions. Yeah, pregnant with their triplets. Which made the whole damned thing even more of a travesty.
But if she couldn’t deal with life before the triplets were born, how would she have been able to handle the stress afterward?
“I understand why you think she might have committed suicide then, but don’t you think this business with her sister sheds a different light on it?”
“Maybe.”
Although he couldn’t see that it did. Unless someone coerced Lelandi to write the suicide note. She hadn’t been enthusiastic about having the babies, in fact seemed even more depressed about it. If anyone had coerced her, he didn’t think it took much convincing, yet if anyone had, they’d die at his hand.
Shots rang out a mile away, and Darien cursed under his breath. He charged in the direction, but Jake quickly caught up to him and grabbed his arm. Darien whirled around in fury, but saw Jake’s concerned expression. ‘What?” he whispered.
“Listen.”
He stood as silent as a frozen lake in winter and listened with his wolf’s hearing.
A heart beating farther away, slow, too slow, and then a groan.
“Lelandi!”
Jake glanced at him.
Darien gave him a feral look and yelled. “Larissa!”
They searched the area again, Darien and his brother in closer proximity to each other this time, trying not to miss her. He paused. “Larissa!”
Chapter 4
THROUGH A FOG-FILLED HAZE, LELANDI FELT PRESSURE ON her throat as If a snake encircled her neck, squeezing tight. She struggled for breath, her mind blackening. She tried to smell the snake, but all she sensed was the strong odor of decaying leaves.
Then a gruff, impatient male voice shouted for Larissa, nearer now.
A low, threatening growl sounded.
Ural?
The pressure on her throat ceased, and she gasped for air, unable to catch her breath. She couldn’t focus on anything, where she was, who he was, what had happened to Larissa. The snake moved quickly away, slithering through the brush, hiding from imminent danger. The pungent odor of humus departed with it. But a new scent drifted in the air. Her cousin’s.
“Ural,” she tried to say, but his name stuck in her throat.
He slunk close to her, licked her cheek—warm, wet, welcome. She wanted to hug his neck, but she couldn’t move.
“Larissa!” the male voice shouted, growing closer, his footsteps sending a sliver of a tremor through the ground, and another, not far away.
Lelandi, she corrected him silently. Even her parents, her brother, and the pack members constantly mixed up their names, to her utter annoyance. She swallowed hard, her throat sore, the pain in her chest radiating throughout her body, agonizing, punishing. Where was she?
Ural nudged her face, then backed away.
Was he behind her? Protecting her?
Cold numbed her Joints, her skin, her bones. She couldn’t sit or lift her head. But the darkness was beginning to grow light.
“Larissa!”
She opened her mouth to speak, but the snake had stolen her voice. She squeaked out something inaudible. Taking a deep breath, she shut her gaping mouth, and stared in the direction of the footsteps.
Small rocks, twigs, and leaves slid down the hill In advance of the marauders, hurrying down the steep incline toward her, nearer and nearer. They’d found her! But the elation was overshadowed by what they’d want to do with her next.
“Over here!” Darien’s rich baritone voice sent shivers of expectation through her torn-up body.
His hair was tangled by the wind, his brown eyes nearly black, his mouth grim and set.
Then she remembered. Larissa—she was... was dead. And Tom—shot. Was he all right? And Ural! If the grays catch him...
“Over here!” Darien shouted again, and soon another man crashed through the thick brush. Darien Jerked his leather coat off and wrapped her in it.
Jake appeared, yanked a phone off his belt, shouted coordinates into the phone, and gave orders to keep searching for the gunman. “Shit.” Jake paused as whoever he spoke to must have finally got a word in edgewise. Sam was shot.”
Darien stopped unbuttoning his shirt. “Is he...”
“Hit In the arm. He’ll live.”
“What about Silva?” Darien removed his shirt and started to unbutton Lelandi’s jacket.
“She’s shook up, but fine. The gunman’s dead.”
Darien looked up at Jake. “Anyone question him?”
“He’s dead.”
“Hell, Jake. I know that. But did anyone question him before he died?”
Jake shook his head and hung up the phone, then he lifted his nose and sniffed. “Do you smell a hint of a red?”
“Can’t as much perfume as she’s wearing.” Darien pulled up her turtleneck.
The cold air chilled her already frozen skin. He muttered an ancient wolf curse, then tucked his body- warmed flannel shirt against her wounds—smelling of him—all hot and spicy male.
Her mind drifted until he spoke again. “Who killed him?”
She stared at his bare chest, lightly haired, muscled, bronzed, beautiful. Who said men’s bodies couldn’t be beautiful? Every inch of him looked incredibly lickable, kissable, real.