I watched the water tease the legs of Rourke’s well-worn jeans as he waded deeper into the stream. I tore my gaze from his completely defined stomach as he hoisted his clothes higher in the air. As his arms went above his head, I noticed two tattoos flowing along the inside of each forearm. They were geometric, and beautifully drawn in a deep black ink. My wolf licked her lips. I did love tattoos. Damn.
He stalked, he didn’t walk. And honestly, if I hadn’t been raised around supernaturals, and hadn’t just become one myself, his presence would’ve been almost too intense.
“Up ahead about ten miles”—Rourke gestured—“is a sulfur stream, and about a mile beyond is a small cabin. The only way to get there is to climb straight up. It’ll take the wolves some time to pick up our scent again after the stream, but by the time they arrive, we’ll be long gone.”
We were currently somewhere in the foothills of the Ozarks, according to Rourke. Nothing looked familiar. Day had broken around us and the morning light seeped between the trees. My guess was it was around seven-thirty or eight in the morning. Rourke had taken a series of back roads, trying to throw any pursuers off our scent, but we both knew it was only a matter of time before the big bad wolves caught up to us.
“Did you just say ten actual miles?”
Rourke chuckled. “Yes, and the last one is straight uphill.” He sloshed over to me. “Here, hand me your jacket.”
I unrolled my shoes, gun, and dirk, and handed the jacket to him without question. He took it and passed me, continuing up the bank on the other side. “And don’t worry, I have a feeling you can handle the climb just fine. I’ll be right back. I’m going to lay a scent trail on the other side to buy us more time.”
I watched his powerful body run up the short grassy hill, my jacket dangling from his right hand as he disappeared into the dense forest along the edge of the embankment.
The cold water lapped at my ruined clothing as I stood in the stream for another few minutes waiting for him to return. At this point, what else was I going to do? His bike was stashed a few miles behind us in a shallow cave, and for the last half hour we’d trudged through thick forest to this riverbank. There was no going back now.
It was way too late for that.
I shifted in the water, wading a little closer to the shoreline. I glanced up and down the river. There was dense tree growth running along both sides as far as I could see. Some large rocks dotted the creek bed, but otherwise the river looked fairly tranquil, running no more than a few feet deep.
“Miss me?” Rourke rejoined me by leaping from the embankment to the edge of the stream. He strode forward, splashing though the water with little care, extending my jacket out to me. I took it from him and rewrapped my things.
“In your dreams,” I said. “Where to now?”
“We head upstream until we hit sulfur, and then take a hard right straight up into those mountains.” He pointed over the tops of some of the trees. The peaks were barely visible.
He dropped his arm and took off.
I sloshed after him. “You couldn’t have picked an easier hidey-hole to get to?”
“Easier means company.”
“The wolves will catch up to us eventually,” I grumbled right as I slipped on a medium-sized rock, catching myself before I tumbled all the way in. My reflexes were much better now as a wolf. Thank goodness, or my ass would’ve been soaked. “Wolves are tenacious, you know.”
“By the time they find us, we’ll have come and gone.”
“Rourke,” I called to his quickly retreating back. “You know I’m not staying with you for more than a day, right? Once I get confirmation from my Pack, I’m heading back the way I came. I’m not jumping from hidey-hole to hidey-hole with you.”
He grunted a response.
After long miles with not a lot of rest, we came to a natural pool framed by a number of large boulders, a strong eddy swirling at its center. It was fed by a steady trickle of extremely stinky water erupting out of a crack in a giant rock. The smell of rotten eggs permeated the air. I took another whiff. “Wow, that’s awful,” I said. “Does it smell this bad to humans?”
Rourke climbed onto one of the rocks bordering the pool. A lock of his sand-colored hair fell over his forehead as the sun reflected on his still bare chest, illuminating the tiny droplets of water stuck to him from walking in the stream.
That man should be arrested, I grumbled at my wolf. It was a grumble kind of day.
My wolf let off a low growl, her eyes tracking Rourke’s every move, but they were sounding less like growls and more like purrs. The hair on my arms began to stand on end without my permission. I hugged my jacket-wrapped weapons tighter to my chest. I hoped like hell he didn’t notice the effect he was having on me. It was embarrassing.