SLAVE TO SENSATION

Fifteen minutes later, they gathered downstairs. He told Nate and Mercy to remain behind to guard the safe house.

Tamsyn frowned. “It’s only me left here now. Why don’t you let me come along and then you don’t have to leave two sentinels behind.”

“You’re our healer.” Lucas touched her cheek. He’d been harsh with her the night before. “We need you safe so you can patch us up if anything goes wrong.”

Her jaw set but she didn’t argue, hugging him tight instead. “Be safe.”





Hawke’s den was located deep in the Sierra Nevada, almost at subalpine level. Lucas drove up the nearly invisible track in his four-wheel drive, cursing as branches scraped along the sides.

“If it was only you and your pack, you could’ve run with them,” Sascha said, her eyes staring out at the gray early-morning light. Darkness had fled in the time it had taken them to drive this far.

“If it was only me and my pack, we’d never have had a chance to save the girl at all.”

Her organizer chimed unexpectedly into the small silence. She checked the message. “It’s Mother. I’ll ignore it. If she asks, I’ll tell her I forgot to take it with me.”

“Enrique?”

“I have a feeling he’s too busy with keeping track of the NetMind’s search for the killer.” She leaned forward and squinted. “I can’t see them.”

“Of course not. That’s their job.” Vaughn and Clay were racing beside them as they drove into Hawke’s territory, having left their vehicle a couple of miles back. They were fully capable of infiltrating the SnowDancer den and had done it before with Lucas by their side. Dorian had driven in ahead of them, dumped his vehicle, and taken to the trees. He’d already called in on a secure line to tell them he was situated above the den.

“Is that the house?” Sascha pointed to the barely visible walls of a large lodge, half-hidden by the trunks of the firs that lined the slope leading up to the clearing.

“No.” He grinned at the wolves’ cunning. “But it’s sure fooled a lot of would-be attackers.”

“It’s a front? It looks so real.”

“It is real. It’s just not their hideout.” Circling around the house, he stopped the car. “Stay inside until I’m beside you.”

For once, she didn’t argue. “This is your world, Lucas. I’m a novice.”

He cupped her cheek in a fleeting caress before exiting the car and walking around to her door. No wolf would take him in the back. In the same way, Dorian would never shoot at an unarmed wolf from his position in the canopy. They were animals but both packs had a kind of honor most of the Psy would never understand. If it came to a fight, it would be face-to-face, hands against hands, claws against claws, not a sniper’s bullet.

Still, he wasn’t going to take chances with his mate’s life. He scented the air to ensure Vaughn and Clay were with him. As he’d expected, their scents had been joined by those of several wolves. None were venturing too close. Good. He pulled open Sascha’s door and she stepped out.

He shut the door. “Stay behind me.” Already, he was placing his body in front of hers.

“I can feel five emotional signatures I don’t know,” she whispered, real soft.

His brows raised. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I’ve been practicing.” She sounded almost proud of herself, as though she was getting past the fear that she was “flawed.” “Vaughn and Clay are circling us, one in front, one behind.”

“Let’s go.” He started to walk into the forest, which appeared to go on endlessly, the dark green firs so close together they blotted out the sun. They walked for five minutes before he found the rutted path half-hidden by carefully strewn forest debris.

“Usually,” he told Sascha, “if you got this far, there’d be a welcoming committee awaiting you. Nobody’s ever found a single bone of the missing.” The predator in him appreciated the efficiency.

“Do you think they eat them?”

He grinned at her gory attempt at a joke. “Nah. Even wolves have higher standards than to feed on human carrion.”

Her hand rose to his shoulder. Something taut in him relaxed. His mate was starting to trust him on a level so deep she was completely unaware of it.

Thirty minutes later, they finally reached the end of the winding path, only to find themselves up against the craggy stone face of a mountain that seemed to reach for the sky. It looked like the path simply stopped, an illusion that had protected the SnowDancers for years.

“Open up, Hawke.” He allowed his voice to carry. Leopards and wolves were their solitary audience.