Hawke had no idea which way Drew had gone, and the rain-laced wind had made a mess of the scent trail, so she was going to have to do this the hard way—using her tracking skills. Which would have been easier if the wind hadn’t decide to swirl up and merrily throw around the leaves, erasing any trace of Drew’s passage.
Something rustled to her left just as she bent down to check for more subtle evidence that might indicate a male of his height and weight had passed this way. Jerking up her head, she realized she’d been so deep in thought, she’d left her flank unprotected. Of course, this was SnowDancer land, and the man who walked out was a fellow lieutenant, but still . . . “What’re you doing lurking in the dark?”
Judd came to crouch beside her. “It’s a natural gift.” He was dressed all in black, the quintessential assassin. He’d given up his former career, but she knew he continued to be involved with the Psy—and more particularly, with the Ghost, the most dangerous Psy rebel of them all.
“Off to see your lethal buddy?”
Judd shook his head, dark brown hair gleaming black in the dark. “I’m not here to chat—I’ve got a meeting in an hour.” Unspoken was the fact that the people he met with would be unlikely to wait. “Drew went in that direction.” He pointed straight in front of him and up. “I tracked him for a while to make sure he wasn’t doing anything stupid. Last I saw, he was at the Serpent Pass.”
Indigo got to her feet as Judd rose. “Thanks.” She tugged a little uncomfortably on a strap. “Why?”
Judd faded back into the darkness. “Because I was you, once.”
As she shifted on her heel and began to trek to the Serpent Pass, Judd’s words reverberated in her skull. The other lieutenant was Psy, had been an ice-cold bastard when he first joined the pack, as emotionless, as harsh as the rock faces in the Sierra Nevada.
She was changeling. Touch was her lifeblood, and she was tied to the pack by countless threads. There were no similarities between them.
Except . . .
A flicker of memory, of holding back tears after a bad fall because she didn’t want to cry and give her parents something else to worry about. It had been instinct—she’d known they needed all their energy to care for Evie. Loving her sister as Indigo did, that choice, and the ones that came after, weren’t anything she regretted—her independence and strength were qualities she was proud of.
There was nothing wrong with being steel, nothing wrong with being strong. It was expected with men. Just because she was a woman . . . But right when she was working up a good head of steam, she remembered who’d said the words that had begun this tumble of memories and thoughts.
If anyone knew about being ice, about being steel, it was Judd.
Her foot caught on a twisted root and she almost went flying. “Shit.” Steadying herself, she wrenched her focus firmly back to the present. The past and how it had shaped her could all come later. Much later.
Four hours after she began, in a rugged area lightly sprinkled with patches of snow, she caught the first hint of Drew’s scent. Her instinct was to move at a faster clip, catch up to him as soon as possible, but she forced herself to slow down, consider what she was going to say when she reached him.
A blank.
“Great. Just great, Indigo,” she muttered under her breath, unscrewing the water bottle she’d refilled at a spring a couple of hours earlier and gulping down half of it without pause. Thirst quenched, but mind no more forthcoming, she slid it back into its spot along the side of her pack and began to climb the jagged pathway in front of her. In truth, it wasn’t really a path, more like a rock slide that had solidified over time and that the pack used as stairs when in wolf form.
It wasn’t as straightforward in a human body. Her hands got banged up a little on the sharp edges, and she whacked her knees a couple of times, but she hardly noticed the small hurts as she crested the rise. Because Drew had stopped—on a small plateau bare of snow that would catch direct sunlight when the sun rose, though the area beyond it was thick with trees, their arms reaching into the clouds.
He’d set up a portable laz-fire and unrolled his sleeping bag on top of a groundsheet that would keep the damp from soaking in. It would’ve still been too cold for most humans—probably a lot of changelings, too. But she’d felt Drew’s body against hers, knew he burned white-hot. Taking a deep breath, she made her way down to the campsite.