At first I thought everyone had returned to their posts, but we were on a set schedule, and that wasn’t the plan.
Jericho’s wolf pushed his nose farther through the opening. He wasn’t showing any signs of aggression, but the rain would make it impossible to detect anything farther than ten or twenty feet away.
I brushed my hair out of my eyes and searched the room for my gun belt. Moving around with a large belly in such a confined space proved challenging, and I’d scraped my knees more than once on the hard floor. I lowered the hatch door and strapped on the harness, butterflies circling in my stomach. I felt more protected with Jericho at my side than with a gun.
I stretched my black shirt back over my stomach, but it didn’t do well at covering the gun.
Jesus. I looked like I was concealing a black bowling ball.
I lifted the door all the way and climbed out while Jericho’s wolf sprang ahead of me and circled the campsite.
An empty can of beans lay on its side to my right; Austin had a strict rule about cleaning up. In the center of the site, there were deep tracks all around.
“Deer?” I murmured aloud. “No, those are too big to be a deer. Maybe a horse.”
Jericho’s wolf followed the trail with his nose pressed to the wet earth. He quickly lifted his head and looked north, a piece of mud clinging to his nostril. He sneezed, and I followed him to the creek. His wolf was light brown with cream and orange markings, and I thought how interesting it was that all the men in the pack were unique—except for the twins.
Relief washed over me when I saw Wheeler sleeping on his stomach across a stretch of clothes. He was pale, naked, and dewy from all the mist. The tattoos on his arms and back gave the illusion of a shirt.
I glanced around, but Naya’s panther was nowhere in sight.
Jericho’s wolf nipped at Wheeler’s arms, rousing him from sleep.
“Hey!” Wheeler grumbled, lifting his head and blinking awake.
I anchored my hands on my lower back and rubbed at the tense muscles. “I don’t know if Austin filled you in, but Hendrix and my mom are at Lorenzo’s house.”
He yanked on his camouflage pants and rubbed a little sand off his face. “Where’s Naya?”
My nerves rattled with that question. “You mean she’s not hunting? Everyone at the camp is gone.”
Wheeler scanned the woods while strapping on his shoulder harness. “If that’s the case, then they’re luring the enemy away.”
“Why? Because I’m the prize hog?”
He knelt by the creek, cupping his right hand in the water and taking a drink. “What woke you?”
“The quiet.”
“Yeah, I’m not a fan myself.” He stood up and scraped his teeth across his bottom lip. “If Austin didn’t wake me, then he either had to move fast or he wanted me to stay behind with you and Jericho. Without knowing where the danger is, we need to stay put.”
“I saw some tracks at the campsite. Maybe a horse, but I didn’t see the shape of horseshoes, so I can’t be sure.”
He smirked. “What’s the matter? Skip the homework assignment on animal tracks?”
“Yeah. I decided to do the oral presentation on shut the fuck up.”
Wheeler laughed and lightly took my arm. “Now I know why we get along so famously. Show me those tracks.”
When we reached the campsite, he knelt down and touched the circle of prints, pressing his fingers along the outer edges. “That’s definitely from a horse, but I’m willing to bet my left nut it’s from a Shifter.”
I patted his back. “One of these days, you’re going to lose that bet. Why don’t you put on a shirt? You don’t exactly blend in with the scenery.”
He rose to his feet. “You should talk.”
“Are you kidding me? I could lie down and pretend to be a small hill.”
Wheeler grabbed a bottle of water and took a swig. “Get your pack in case we have to move,” he said quietly, eyeing the tree stand where Lennon was hiding out.
I grabbed my bag off the bench, and by the time I turned, Wheeler was halfway up the tree.
“He’s not here,” Wheeler said, sounding confused.
Which meant we had neither a lookout nor someone to cover us. “There must be a lot of them,” I said to myself.
Wheeler jumped down, a penetrating gaze in his eyes. “Let’s head back to the creek.”
“You don’t think I should hide in the bunker?”
He took my bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Mayhap I don’t believe women should hide from anything. Naya’s things are down there, and I want to see if she left any tracks.”
I rubbed the wet drizzle from my arms and followed behind him. Jericho’s wolf raced ahead, his nose in the air and his ears perking in different directions. Wolves were intelligent creatures who—unlike a domesticated dog—knew that barking would disclose the pack’s location to their enemy.
When we reached the bank, Jericho’s wolf growled, and his lips peeled back.