6
Tehya had never known fear like this. Not even the day she was attacked by a vampire could compare with the sheer terror of knowing that a clan of vampires hell-bent on revenge was only moments away from breaking down the door and possibly slaughtering them.
Lobo shoved his hatchet into a loop on his belt, and the hackles on the back of her neck rose. He never left the cabin without being armed with a few blades, but he didn’t take his favorite hatchet unless he was going to practice with it . . . or kill with it. The muscles in his arms and back rippled as he tore weapons from the walls and from the wooden chest near the fireplace. Every movement was brisk and economical, and within moments she swore every inch of his incredible body was armed.
She watched him, fascinated despite the danger they were facing. As a wolf, she’d loved him, but she’d never felt any kind of sexual feelings toward him. Which was a good thing, she supposed. But now . . . now she was a woman again, a female vampire with his blood coursing through her veins and a body that was still liquid from the climax she’d had with him.
She should probably be embarrassed by that, but she’d never been very self-conscious—and he’d seen her using the forest like a big litter box, so she was pretty much over being sensitive about bodily functions.
He swung around to her, his luxurious midnight hair fanning across broad shoulders that blocked the single stream of light coming through a crack in the drawn curtains. His dark gaze raked her from head to toe, and she sucked in an appreciative breath. She’d seen him in warrior mode before, but this was hard-core. He was cool. Detached. And why wouldn’t he be? She was a stranger to him.
“You need pants,” Lobo said gruffly, turning away to peek through the window.
She looked down at herself. The flannel shirt hung to mid-thigh, but her lower legs, already cut up from the run through the forest earlier, had no protection. Unfortunately, they’d have to stay that way.
“You don’t have anything that’ll fit me.”
“I have a pair of sweatpants—”
“With a broken string.” She knew that because she herself had chewed on the cord when she’d been bored one day. “I can’t cinch them around my waist.” She brushed past him on her way to the door. “Besides, I’ve spent the last, what—twelve years?—without pants or shoes. I’ll be fine.”
“You also spent the last twelve years without speaking,” he muttered, and she bit back a smile as they slipped outside, moving silently north, in the opposite direction from MoonBound.
Lobo set the pace at a slow run, finding a happy medium that allowed them to move swiftly while creating the least amount of noise. She followed, resisting the urge to overtake him. For years she’d ranged ahead or loped at his side, her wolf senses keeping track of him while remaining alert for signs of danger.
Now she was essentially a month-old vampire with no experience or understanding of her own strengths and weaknesses, and the only person she knew didn’t know her. He knew Tehya the wolf. He didn’t know Kristen Parker, the once-human dental assistant, or Kristen Parker, the screwup newbie vampire who had somehow turned into a wolf and couldn’t turn back.
For twelve years.
A dull crack echoed through the forest, and Lobo stopped so suddenly that she nearly bumped into him. “They’re at my cabin,” he growled. “We need to run.” He shoved her in front of him. “Go! Head toward the river.”
She took off, running as fast as she could on bare feet, but damn, the sticks and rocks were sharp. Her wolf paws had been so much tougher. Still, as painful as the bruises and punctures were, this would have been much worse if she’d still been human.
They ran for miles, slowing only occasionally to judge the distance between them and their pursuers. It seemed to her as if the MoonBound people were getting closer, but every time she asked Lobo to confirm her suspicions, he only told her to run faster. And once, when a rabbit dashed across their path, she’d automatically darted after it.
“Damn it, Tehya, get back here!” he yelled. “Come here! Heel!”
“Hilarious,” she muttered, swinging back to run with him. When he smirked, she wanted to both kiss him and bite him.
The rush of the river grew louder ahead, the most welcome sound she’d ever heard.
“Bear left,” Lobo called out as they raced along the edge of a meadow populated by wild turkeys that kept wary eyes on them as they passed. “Take the path down the canyon that lands us on the south side of the rapids.”
Smart. They could use the water to eliminate tracks, and the noise of the rapids would cover the sounds of their escape.
They leaped the remains of an old split-rail fence and charged up an embankment that ended abruptly on a rocky ledge. Far below, a wide, deep section of the river created a relatively calm spot where animals on the other side came to drink. Even from this distance, she could see deer and elk tracks interspersed with a few canine and big-cat paw prints.
“This way.” He started down the narrow, winding trail along the edge of the river ravine. “We’ll swim downstream to—” He broke off with a grunt. Stumbling, he wheeled around, and Tehya watched in horror as blood bloomed on his chest around the head of an arrow that had punched through his back.
“Lobo?”
His eyes glazed over as his knees buckled. Tehya caught him around the waist before he hit the ground, but his weight knocked her off balance. Her foot caught a root, and he pitched to the side, his momentum tearing him from her grip.
No—oh, God, no!
Her heart stopped, the blood congealing in her veins, as Lobo disappeared over the side of the cliff. A scream lodged in her throat as she scrambled to the edge in time to see his body splash into the river below and disappear beneath the surface.
“Who shot that fucking arrow!” The deep, masculine voice echoed off the surrounding mountains, seeming to come from everywhere at once, making it all the more terrifying. “I wanted him alive!”
They were coming closer, their feet booming like thunder on the forest floor.
Please, please, Lobo. Be alive. Tehya watched the river in desperation, her fingers digging into moss and damp earth as she clung to the edge of the cliff. Surface, damn you!
“You!” a male voice, different from the first, called out to her. “To your feet. Turn around slowly.”
Fury like she’d never felt before welled up, and she disobeyed both orders, spinning around on all fours with a snarl. She was going to rip out their throats for this. She’d almost certainly die, but not before taking out at least one of the bastards.
A blond male and a dark-skinned female emerged from the forest, both armed with bows, the arrows pointed at her head. Another male, sporting a crossbow, came at her from the side, while yet another male, this one empty-handed, strode toward her with the arrogant confidence of an alpha leader.
Although she didn’t know their names, she’d seen all of them from a distance, had once even spent a full day tracking the blond one out of boredom and curiosity. But the guy coming at her didn’t need an introduction. He must be MoonBound’s chief, Hunter. And she had no doubt that despite his lack of a weapon, he was just as deadly as the others.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
As if she was going to reply to people who had just shot Lobo. Hell, she was shaking so hard she doubted she could speak even if she’d wanted to.
Still growling, she inched backward, until her knees hit the edge of the cliff and her feet dangled over. Dislodged pebbles and crumbling earth bounced off the cliff face, the sound abnormally loud in the hushed, tense silence.
“Get away from the ledge,” the guy said, his voice dripping with warning.
Twisting, she peered into the pool below, and her heart stopped when she saw the body floating in the bubbling waters.
She didn’t waste another second. Figuring she had nothing left to lose, she shot her pursuers the finger and jumped.