I took cover behind a pickup truck and scanned the parking garage for movement.
“Is that another wolf I smell?” The tracker had a Texan accent, but that fact wouldn’t help me find him. “Bad kitty.”
I spun around, trying to locate the source of the voice. The sound echoed off the cement walls in every direction.
“You want me asshole?” My finger caressed the trigger. “What are you waiting for?”
“Whatcha doin’ with some other wolf, pussycat? Tryin’ to make me jealous?”
“Why don’t you be a man and show yourself?” My senses were on high alert as I tried to bait the bastard into the open.
“You brought your little gun.” He made a slow tsk sound. “Think that’ll protect you?”
His voice wavered like he was on the move. With my back pressed against the side of the pickup, I made my way around to the front of the truck and squatted to check the view.
“I know my gun will protect me.” I scanned every shadow. “Want to test my theory?”
“Oh, I want to test all sorts of things.” His voice was thick with perverted innuendo.
I smirked and jogged down the center of the row of cars, my pistol at the ready and my animal eyesight working overtime to locate the bastard. “Come on out, and we’ll see who passes.”
When I swung to the right the wolf yelled, “Sasha, get down!”
I dropped to the ground and glass rained over my head as the silent bullet exploded the car’s headlight. I heard a struggle, blows, curses, and finally the sound of a gun hitting the concrete. Knowing the perp was momentarily unarmed, I ran toward the noise. I would’ve been faster if I hadn’t been wearing heels for the trip to the mall.
They were sexy to look at, idiotic to chase stalkers in.
He ran for the exit. I took my stance, aiming my shot, but he was out of my Glock’s range. I wanted to shoot at the bastard anyway, but I didn’t have a silencer and nothing would get me arrested faster than firing a gun at a shopping mall. I stashed my gun back into the shoulder holster when I suddenly remembered I had a partner.
I ran down the aisles until I found the wolf in a heap. “Oh, Jesus.”
Racing to his side, I sent up a silent prayer he wasn’t shot. I knelt beside him and carefully rolled him over. He had some blood on his lower lip and a painful-looking bump on his forehead, but I couldn’t find any bullet holes.
Thank God. I rested his head on my lap and tapped his cheek to wake him.
He didn’t move. I leaned down to listen for any sign of breathing and closed my eyes in relief when I felt air brush over my skin. His chest rose and fell while I stroked his hair back from his forehead.
“Aren?” I waited and held my breath, but still no movement. “Come on, Aren. Wake up.”
His eyelids fluttered and finally opened, followed by a crooked smile that melted my heart before I could get a grip on myself.
“You’re all right,” he whispered, reaching up to cup my cheek.
I nodded, fighting the urge to nuzzle into his touch. “Only because you warned me to duck.”
“I knocked his gun free and got a good punch in before he swept my ankle. I hit the ground, and everything went black.”
I glanced down at his swollen ankle—his one weak spot. I had done that to him. My stomach clenched. “By the time I saw him, he was out of range for me to get a shot off. He got away.”
“Not that it helps much,” he said, “but I saw his sad excuse for a face before he took me out. I’ll recognize him if I see him again.”
“That’s something.” I lowered his hand and helped him up to a sitting position. “You saved my life tonight.”
He shot me a playful smile in spite of his swelling lower lip. “And you said my name.”
My jaw dropped slightly. “You heard that?”
“’Course I did.” He raised a brow. “I liked it so much I waited for you to say it again.”
I nudged him and shook my head. “You’re lucky I don’t just leave you here.”
“I’m safe.” He patted his pants pocket. “I have the car keys.”
I got up and offered him a hand. He winced, losing all traces of his playful smile.
“Fucking ankle,” he growled. “Dammit.” He steadied himself against the car bumper and grimaced.
“I could bring the car over.”
He shot me a glare in return. “I’ll make it. Just give me a second.”
“Can I at least offer you a shoulder to lean on?”
He grudgingly draped his arm over my shoulder and together we hobbled back to his car, stopping only once so I could grab the stalker’s gun and silencer. I tucked it into the waistband of my slacks, and we continued our slow journey back to the Lotus.
Chapter Eleven
Aren
I couldn’t even drive my own fucking car back to the hotel. The next time I saw the bastard tracking Sasha, I was going to kill him. And I wouldn’t need a goddamn gun to do it.
When we got back to the room, the pain in my ankle had downgraded from sharp and stabbing to throbbing and aching. Sasha helped me to the chair at the desk and then disappeared with the ice bucket. She came back with a plastic bag of ice and propped my leg up on the other chair.
“Keep it elevated and iced.” She managed to make it sound like an order.
I glanced up at her. “I’m a werewolf. We heal pretty quickly.”
She kept her eyes on my swollen ankle. “Doesn’t look like you’ve healed very well to me.”
Before I could respond, she shook her head and vanished into the bathroom. She came out wearing loose gray sweatpants and a tank top that fit in all the right places. Her hair was up in a ponytail, what little make-up she’d worn to the mall was gone, and I wanted her so bad that part of my body forgot I was injured.
I shifted in my chair.
She walked past me and laid out a towel. “I’ll never be able to sleep tonight if I don’t regain some focus.”
She knelt on the towel and started stretching.
“Yoga?”
She nodded, glancing my way. “I usually crank up the heat when I stretch, but I don’t want to melt that ice on your ankle.”
“My ankle’s fine.”
She raised a brow. “I doubt it.” She leaned to the side with her palms pressed together. After a long slow breath, she asked, “do you know how to do yoga, wolf?”
“It’s Aren. You’ve already said it twice tonight, so I know you can.”
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you know how to do yoga, Aren?”
My name sounded so good coming off her lips. I shifted in my chair again. I wasn’t even sure a cold shower could tame the lust building up in my pants.
Did she have to be limber too?
I shook my head. “No. I’m a weightlifter now. I used to be a runner—” I cut myself off, but not before her eyes darkened. I started to rub my forehead. The painful bump stopped me. “The simple answer is no. I don’t know how to do yoga.”
She shrugged and moved into another pose. “Weightlifting can make you tight. Yoga will keep everything loose and supple. When your ankle is better you should try it.” I could see the sweat glisten on her neck, down her chest, and then disappear along the curve of her breast. Screw my ankle.
I set the ice aside and got up, patting myself on the back for hiding the twinge of pain. “I told you, my ankle is fine.”
She frowned. “That guy could show up again at anytime. You should keep icing it.”
I quickly unbuttoned my shirt and tossed it aside before grabbing my bag. I dug around for a pair of shorts. “It’s fine, and if that ass shows his face again, I’ll be ready.”