All Roarke had to do at this point was follow his nose. Why anyone would want to track down Bigfoot was beyond him. The creature might be sweet and exotic, but an open sewer couldn’t rival the stench.

When he was about two miles from the pair, he started looking for another cave. The one he and Abby had so thoroughly enjoyed wouldn’t have been big enough, so he was hoping for something a little larger. There…a shadow in the side of the hill. Bingo.

A family of coyotes had taken up residence, but he convinced them to vacate for the next couple of days. He didn’t tell them they’d have to fumigate when they returned, but if they were this close to the Sasquatch pair already, they couldn’t be all that particular.

A half-mile away from the Sasquatch, Roarke buried his nose in some wild mint for a few seconds, just so he could go on without barfing. He doubted any creatures had remained this close to the encampment. Roarke hated to move the Sasquatch somewhere else, because he’d only be transferring the noxious odor to another part of the pristine forest. But the creatures had to live somewhere, and they were part of biodiversity, so Roarke was committed to the relocation plan.

Finally he could see their camp, such as it was. Sasquatch weren’t known for their domestic skills. A pile of mangled roots and berries lay in the small clearing, and the mated pair lay sprawled against each other near the pile of what was essentially garbage.

Although the common wisdom pegged Sasquatch as omnivores, Roarke had never known them to eat meat. But he’d never figured out why, if they were herbivores, they smelled so bad. Maybe they simply had bad digestion, which might be an inherited trait. A creature that large could give off some serious gas.

Especially when they were asleep after a meal. Jesus. Roarke wondered if he’d be asphyxiated before he completed his mission. But he took a moment to recognize that cryptozoologists the world over would sacrifice their retirement account to be where he was right this minute, gazing at two mythical creatures seldom seen by the human eye.

They weren’t being seen by the human eye, now, either. They were being seen by the werewolf eye. But he hoped to lay this spectacle at Abby’s feet, and maybe at Earl’s as well. That possibility helped him deal with the fetid odor of a Sasquatch camp.

The light was dim, so he couldn’t make out the color of their shaggy coats. The scientist in him wondered where they fit along the known spectrum of dark brown to red, but clouds obscured the moonlight that might have revealed that.

Padding silently toward the sleeping pair, he lifted his head and howled, the werewolf version of an alarm clock. They woke up slowly, groggily, as if some of the berries they’d consumed had been fermented. Roarke hoped not, because that wouldn’t be good for the little one carried in the female’s rounded belly.

The male stood, all nine feet of him, and towered over Roarke. But he was flabby and Roarke was solid muscle. Besides, Sasquatch and Weres had never fought over anything. The huge creatures seemed to recognize a superior intelligence and deferred to it.

Roarke sent the telepathic message he’d mentally constructed as he traveled here. Through images he hoped they would understand, he told them they were not safe here and needed to find another place to have the baby.

There was no response at first. Roarke expected that. The Sasquatch were slow thinkers and needed time to assimilate new facts. The male’s protruding brow wrinkled as he struggled with the proposition.

At last the answer came, and it was as he’d expected. The female had been born near here, and she wanted her baby to be born here, too.

Roarke understood that urge. His kind were territorial in that way, too. But he projected the image of werewolves and let the pair know they’d invaded Were territory.

The female rose and shuffled over to join her mate. She stared at him stubbornly, defiantly. Obviously she didn’t want to go elsewhere, despite the Weres.

Roarke looked into her dark eyes and absorbed the rest of her message. She was too far along to go a great distance.

Roarke wondered if he’d be able to pull this off, after all. He’d never coaxed a mated pair into a helicopter before and he didn’t know if they’d understand the concept. He mentally projected climbing aboard a helicopter, lifting off, and then landing somewhere safe.

If he hadn’t been about to gag from the stench, he would have found the scene pretty funny. They turned to each other, their brows wrinkled in an obvious effort to figure out the whole flying concept. Then they literally put their heads together and muttered in a language Roarke hadn’t yet studied. Telepathy was much more efficient.

Finally the male turned and puffed out his chest. Then he shook his head and put a protective arm around his mate.

Roarke admired the male’s protective stance. If Roarke were in their shoes, he wouldn’t trust his mate to some unknown mechanical bird, either. But they had to go.

He decided to try a different approach. He projected an image of humans tracking them down. For good measure, he threw in a scene of them being captured and hauled away.

The male glanced around the clearing as if expecting hunters to rush out of the trees. When nothing happened, he turned back to the female and they muttered some more. Apparently she held equal power in the relationship, and Roarke took note of that so he could add it to the accumulated knowledge about the creatures.

He would have to remember to tell Abby about that. In fact, he needed to remember every detail of this interaction so that he could relate it to her. He imagined how her blue eyes would shine with wonder and all the questions she’d ask.

Once again the male faced Roarke, but he seemed more open, more willing. He wanted to know more about the helicopter.

Roarke did his best. He projected images of safety, but added that there would be noise and wind from the whirling blades. He didn’t want them to be unprepared and turn tail at the last minute. They seemed to be concentrating very hard as they tried to understand.

So much depended on that moment when the Sasquatch were expected to climb into a machine that would take them up in the air, something they’d never experienced. They would be terrified. Roarke became so involved in his task that he almost forgot that he was in sensory hell. These creatures might not be particularly intelligent, but they were kind and respectful to each other, and that counted for a lot with Roarke.

Finally he realized what had to happen. He’d meet them at the cave in wolf form, escort them to the waiting helicopter, and ride with them on the way to their new home. He’d show them with his calm demeanor that there was nothing to be afraid of. That meant Earl wouldn’t be able to watch the departure, but Abby still could.

Facing the Sasquatch pair, Roarke communicated the plan, and they both brightened considerably. They conferred once more in their muttered language before facing Roarke again.

Interestingly, the female was the one who transmitted their thoughts. Apparently because she was the one having the baby, she had the final say. They would go on the helicopter.

Abby would love hearing that the female had the authority. He could hardly wait to tell her. In the back of his mind lurked the thought that soon he wouldn’t have the luxury of being able to tell Abby things, unless he wanted to keep in touch on the Internet.

Yeah, right. They could be Facebook buddies. Not. There was no way in hell he’d be willing to maintain some anemic online contact with a woman with whom he’d shared copious orgasms. It was all or nothing.

But he couldn’t think about that now. He had to focus on finishing this task. Coaxing the pair to follow him to the cave he’d picked out was much easier than convincing them to fly in a helicopter.

He suggested they gather food along the way, enough to get them through a couple of days, until he could come for them. They left quite a trail of destruction on the way to the cave, ripping up entire bushes until both of them had more than they could carry.

After multiple relays, they seemed to think they had enough food to last for the duration. After extracting their promise that they would not leave the cave until Roarke showed up, he started back. He moved quickly, eager to tell Abby that he’d set up the relocation plan.

* * *

Abby had seen Cameron Gentry twice in her life, both times in downtown Portland. The first time she’d been about six and had gone into town with her brother Pete and her grandparents for an ice cream sundae. Cameron, a teenager, had been in the same ice cream parlor with his parents. Abby distinctly remembered he’d treated the waitress like dirt.

The second time she’d encountered Cameron had been about fifteen years later on a crowded sidewalk when he’d hurried past with some business associates. In his complete self-absorption, he’d nearly knocked her grandmother down and then hadn’t bothered to apologize. Grandpa Earl had wanted to challenge him, but Grandma Olive had talked him out of it.

Abby doubted Cameron would remember her from either incident. As she studied him now, she decided he hadn’t aged well. The touches of gray at his temples should have made him look distinguished, but the lines of cruelty around his mouth eliminated any attractiveness he might have.

As for his attitude of entitlement, that hadn’t improved one damned bit. He obviously still thought the world was his oyster. But he didn’t have the brawn to back up that belief, so he’d brought along three burly guys on this mission. Abby was willing to bet all four men could shift into wolves at a moment’s notice.

Good thing Donald didn’t know that. The poor man acted pathetically grateful to discover their visitors seemed normal and weren’t carrying weapons. What Donald didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. What Abby knew could hurt her, though, so she’d play dumb for as long as she could get away with it.

Once Donald had verified that he wasn’t in danger of being shot, he’d started to babble. “You guys gave us quite a scare. I bet you’re with the forest service or something, huh? Want some coffee? I could make some on the camp stove in no time flat. I have cookies, too. Oreos. They pack better than—”

“Where’s Wallace?” Cameron looked directly at Abby.

She shouldn’t have been surprised that they’d immediately know Roarke had been here. They were werewolves, so they could probably stick their sensitive noses in Roarke’s vacant tent and smell that he’d left a few hours ago.

Still, she did her best imitation of a clueless female. “Wallace who?”

“He means Roarke, Abby,” Donald said helpfully. “You should probably go back in the tent and let me handle this.” He glanced at Cameron. “She’s not herself, which is understandable considering that this is her honeymoon and her groom is off getting antibiotics for her infection.”

Cameron stared at Donald as if trying to decide whether he was crazy or just stupid. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Donald laughed nervously. “I know it seems weird, that Roarke and Abby would invite me to team up with them on their honeymoon hike, but we found out we have a lot of things in common, so we—”

“Shut up, whoever you are.” Cameron turned back to Abby. “I sincerely doubt that Wallace got married in the last two days, let alone to Earl Dooley’s granddaughter.”

Donald gasped. “You’re his granddaughter? What a coincidence! He’s the one who sighted the mated Bigfoot pair!”

Abby felt sick to her stomach as she looked at Cameron. Dear God, if Cameron had done anything to Grandpa Earl…but Roarke had said he was safe because he didn’t know about the Weres. She’d hang onto that thought.

She took a deep breath. “How did you find out I’m Earl’s granddaughter?”

“Wallace had suddenly become very sympathetic to Earl’s situation, and he was acting odd before he left on this hike, so on a hunch I went over to Earl’s store this afternoon. He proudly, and somewhat defiantly, I might add, told me you and Wallace had set out together and you were going to bring back evidence that Bigfoot exists.”

Donald stared at her. “So are you two married or what?”

“I told you to shut up!” Cameron motioned angrily to one of the three guys standing behind him. “See that he doesn’t bother me again.”

Donald gasped as two of the men started toward him.

Abby stepped in front of him. “Don’t either of you dare lay a hand on this man! If you do, I’ll have you arrested for assault.”

One of the men picked her up by the waist as if she were a piece of furniture in his way and set her to one side. As she spun around with a cry of protest, they each grabbed one of Donald’s arms and propelled him backwards, out of the circle of light.

Donald’s mouth rounded in terror, but nothing came out.

Abby started toward him, but the third man closed his large hand around her bicep and held her in place. She considered kicking him in the crotch, but she wasn’t sure that would be wise, all things considered. If this incident turned physical, she and Donald wouldn’t stand a chance against a quartet of Weres.

“All right, Abby Winchell,” Cameron said, his voice deceptively soft. “We’re not going to play games. What are you to Roarke Wallace?”

Now there was a million-dollar question. “Nothing,” she said. “My grandfather wanted to go with him on his search for Bigfoot, but he’s not physically up to it, so I volunteered to go instead.”

Cameron sighed. “Wallace wasn’t on a sight-seeing trip and he would have had no logical reason to take you along.” He gave Abby the once-over. “Well, I can see one possible reason.”

She flushed. But if Cameron wanted to think that Roarke had brought her along to warm his sleeping bag at night, then she’d let him think that.

But Cameron shook his head. “Doesn’t make logical sense. He might want you, but not on this trip, where all you’d do is slow him down. He would have accomplished his mission first and had fun with you later.”

“That wasn’t possible. I’m leaving town. He had to take advantage of the time I’d be here.”

“Sorry, that won’t wash. Wallace is resourceful when it comes to the ladies. He would have followed you to Phoenix for some R and R if that’s what he was really after.”

She hated that Cameron obviously had checked up on her before coming out here to find her. He probably knew everything about her entire family. Maybe he’d always known everything, in case it would help him in his quest to get the Dooley property.

“I’m going to assume that Wallace is off doing the business I asked him to do, but that still doesn’t explain you.”

“Maybe Roarke isn’t as dedicated to efficiency as you think,” she said. “Maybe he wasn’t willing to wait until he could meet me in Phoenix.”

“Maybe, but I still can’t see him dragging you along on this trip, or hooking up with the geek over there, either. It doesn’t add up.”

Abby shrugged as if she didn’t care what Cameron thought, but her mind was going a mile a minute. If they’d talked to Grandpa Earl this afternoon, they’d arrived at this campsite damned fast. The reason for that chilled her. They’d made the trip as Weres, moving swiftly down the trail like bloodhounds. Yet what about clothes once they arrived?

Each of them wore a small backpack, and then she figured it out. They’d shifted before they’d left and then someone at the mansion had strapped the packs on their backs. In shifting back to human form, they’d simply slipped out of the packs and dressed in the clothes tucked inside.

Knowing how quickly they could traverse the forest as Weres, she understood just how much of a handicap she’d given Roarke by tagging along. No wonder Cameron couldn’t believe that Roarke had taken her willingly. She caught the Were studying her and looked away. She didn’t want anything in her expression to tip him off about what she knew.

Cameron tapped a finger against his chin. “Something’s missing from the equation, and I’ll bet you could tell me what it is, Abby Winchell.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do, but maybe we need to continue this discussion somewhere else.”

She couldn’t imagine what he had in mind, but then she heard the whomp, whomp, whomp of rotary blades. There was a helicopter in the area, and she didn’t have to guess who owned it. Roarke had said the Sasquatch pair would be airlifted out, so of course the Gentrys would be doing that via private helicopter.

“Kidnapping is a federal offense,” she said. “If you take me out of here against my will, that’s kidnapping. And I’ll press charges, too.”

Cameron ignored her as he pulled a walkie-talkie out of his jacket pocket and clicked it on. “You can pick us up, now.”

For one heady moment Abby tried to tell herself that by us he meant the four of them. They’d take the chopper out of here and leave her in the clearing with Donald.

“We’ll have two extra passengers.”

Her brief hope died. “What about Roarke? He’ll come back here and won’t know what happened to us.”

Cameron gave her an icy smile. “That wouldn’t be polite, would it? Thanks for reminding me. I’ll leave Wallace a nice note.”