“Damn,” Kenzie said softly. “That really stinks.”
The smell triggered Bowman’s memory of fighting the creature. Pain and rage mixed with fear flooded back to him, along with the adrenaline high that had gotten him into Cade’s truck to ram the solid wall of flesh.
He shuddered, his fight-or-flight reaction too close to the surface. Kenzie put her hand on his arm, but he could feel that her fighting need was as wound up as his.
Gil stood beside them, his human scent making only a small dent in the monster’s. “Stinks, yeah, but the truck is empty.”
“I know,” Bowman said. “The scent is strong, but it’s not sharp. It hasn’t been in there for hours.”
Gil flashed his light around the growing darkness. “The question is, where did it go? I didn’t feel like hunting for it by myself.”
Smart of him. Bowman had no wish to encounter the thing again, but it was a danger, and he needed to deal with it. “I’ll have to go wolf,” he said.
“No, let me,” Kenzie said quickly.
“No.” Bowman turned to face her, catching her golden eyes in the dark. “I need you as backup.”
Kenzie glared at him, and Bowman gazed steadily back at her, willing her not to argue. Kenzie’s chest, under a tight sweatshirt and fleece-lined jacket, rose with her breath. Her eyes held wicked sparks that he loved, flashing in fear and anger. She was trying to protect him.
He wanted to kiss her right now. More than kiss her—he wanted to lean her back on the hood of the car and take her mouth, tasting her strength. He wanted this woman with his entire body, and with every thought he had, every day.
“All right,” Kenzie said, still angry. “But if you break your leg again, don’t come crying to me.”
“I never cry.”
Kenzie shrugged, but her body was stiff. “I know. You’re the big, bad alpha. You just bitch and moan until we want to gag you.”
Bowman let the fantasy of Kenzie tying him down and working a gag between his lips flit through his mind. Then he shoved it aside. He’d never get this problem solved if he didn’t calm down.
Without another word, Bowman slid off his leather jacket and laid it on the hood of Gil’s car. He didn’t bother to find a place to hide or ask Gil to turn his back; he simply started shedding clothes.
Kenzie caught the shirt and T-shirt he threw off, making sure they got folded up all nice. She was like that, going domestic in the most incongruous places and making snide remarks about the messiness of males.
She also looked her fill as Bowman toed off his boots and slid out of his jeans and underwear, the cold air biting his ass. It was getting colder by the minute, but Kenzie’s gaze dropping to his cock made his body roasting hot.
Gil was pretending to fix something on his flashlight, not looking at the stark-naked male next to him. Kenzie, on the other hand, didn’t have a problem watching, a satisfied gleam in her eyes.
But enough. Time to finish this.
Bowman shifted as quickly as he could to wolf and dropped to all fours. The world took on the curves he saw in wolf form—at the same time, outlines were sharp, colors muted. His sense of smell nearly overwhelmed him, especially with leftover monster stink, and his pricked ears heard plenty in the darkness.
Kenzie’s scent came to him even over the stronger smell, pure female goodness. Gil Ramirez contained the too-salty scent of human, overlaid with a subtler scent Bowman couldn’t place.
Hmm. He didn’t have time at the moment to find out what was up with that, but he realized that Gil was more than he seemed.
Scents of the night—air, cold, coming snow, small sleeping animals—were hideously tainted by whatever had been in that truck. Bowman’s nose wrinkled, and he couldn’t stop his growl.
“I know.” Kenzie’s voice, though she spoke softly, was loud to his sensitive ears. “It’s awful.”
Everything inside Bowman didn’t want to approach the truck, but he knew he had to hunt this threat. Noiselessly, he padded toward the eighteen-wheeler, leaving the light and Kenzie behind.
The truck waited, inert, its polished black glinting where Gil’s flashlight brushed it. The truck was an inanimate object, Bowman knew, but it seemed to crouch in the shadows as though lying in wait.
Bowman heard Kenzie coming behind him, ignoring Gil’s admonition to be careful. Kenzie knew what she was doing. He padded into the arena, pausing at the edge to listen, sniff, assess.
No one was in or around the truck. His nose told him that. Whoever the human driver or drivers had been, they were long gone. The beast wasn’t in it either. So why was Bowman so reluctant to go any closer?