“This is fucking madness,” the man mutters, jaw tight, scarcely believing Lisa is about to ignore an order to return to base and wander off into the woods with a man he doesn’t trust.
“It’s okay, Sheridan. Beau knows these woods, and I trust him. We’ll be fine.”
When I'm two strides into the trees again, he hisses. “Beau fucking Lennox. Are you insane?”
She cuts him off with a flat, “I'm fine. We'll be fine.”
Then Sheridan again, lower this time, "Take this then."
I glance back as he unclips the radio from his belt and presses it into her hand. His eyes flick to me and stay there a beat longer than they need to, with a warning I'm meant to receive.Don’t let her get hurt.
He makes her promise to check in within the hour, and then he turns and starts back down the trail without looking at either of us again.
My senses are sharper at night, not duller, and the ground reads as easily to me as a page of text.
Lisa’s footsteps follow mine. Her breathing is rough and her steps are getting heavier, but every time I pause and pretend to check a sightline through the trees, she comes around the bend behind me without complaint.
When I come to a stop, pretending to need a break myself, her boot finds a patch of wet leaves over loose rock and skids out from under her.
I hear the gasp before I see her fall, and I'm already turning, one stride covering the distance between us, her jacket fisted in my hand before she goes down. With ease, I haul her upright and set her back on her feet while she stares.
She weighs nothing to me, even with a wet pack and boots, but I doubt anyone’s lifted her one handed before.
"Christ, Red." I snap, stunned by how much the idea of her slipping and falling has affected me. My heart is pounding now, and my bear is angry that she’s here, stumbling through the dangerous terrain, even though it was his possessiveness that got us into this mess to begin with. "Pay attention."
"I am paying attention," she barks back. “You’re the one who stopped dead on the path.”
I let my hand stay curled into the front of her coat, feeling her warmth through the jacket, before reluctantly letting go.
“Thank you,” she whispers, and my shoulders drop as the jolt of adrenaline and concern at seeing her slip starts to fade.
I give her a small smile and a nod.
For a moment, with her face turned up to mine and her breath fogging between us, the search recedes. Then she takes a small step back, and the moment passes. I’m about to start moving again when the scent of fresh blood reaches me.
I stop and look at her face that’s partly illuminated by her lamp, with a thin line of blood across her cheekbone. The cut is shallow and already clotting, so it shouldn't make my handstwitch with the urge to drag her back down the mountain and sit her in front of a fire until I'm sure she's warm, fed and safe.
Tilting her chin up with one knuckle, I examine the scratch. Humans are so easily damaged. Why would any of them join law enforcement when they’re so easily hurt? “When did this happen?”
She shrugs. "I'm fine," she whispers. "It's just a scratch."
I brush my thumb across it anyway, then tuck a loose strand of hair back from her cheek.
Her eyes fall closed and she sighs, leaning into my touch.
Fuck, I want to stay here like this forever, but we’ve got a job to do. "Let’s keep moving."
I jerk my head, focusing up the trail where it steepens further and then thins out entirely as we cut off into unmarked terrain. Lisa's pace slows, she's having to use her hands now to climb sections that I'm taking in a stride, but she doesn't ask me to wait.
Just like I don’t tell her when I get the faint scent of humans far from where they should be.
Unsettled by the mixture of recent male smells, I find what I'm looking for as we search. First by ear, the faint creak of warped wood in the wind. A few minutes later, the practically dilapidated cabin is visible through the trees, lower than I expected and tucked into a fold of ground.
I stop abruptly and hold up a hand without turning around, then listen. Lisa freezes and doesn’t speak a word as we creep closer.
Nothing moves inside. The smells coming off the place are of old smoke, old beer, and the particularly sour note of male body odour, but it’s at least a week old. Nobody has been here tonight as far as I can tell.
I nod toward the cabin. "Stay behind me."