Wheeler knelt beside him and hooked his arm around the wolf’s neck. “What is it?”
Without warning, his wolf lunged, knocking Wheeler onto his back. Wheeler caught Jericho by the hind legs and flipped him over, but the wolf clawed and fought to run. He sank his teeth into Wheeler’s hand, and I sucked in a sharp breath.
Wheeler retracted his hand and grimaced. “Dammit! Just go!”
Jericho took off to the right like a streak of lightning.
“What’s gotten into him?” I asked, looking around at the empty woods. “Why would he bite you?”
Wheeler crawled to where his T-shirt and Naya’s things were and used a knife to tear away a strip of fabric. He wrapped it around his hand to stanch the bleeding. “Izzy’s in trouble. That’s the only explanation—the only reason he’d take off and leave us.”
“That means they must be up the creek.”
He lifted the bags. “Yeah. Shit creek.”
I marched in the direction Jericho had gone, leaving Wheeler behind.
“Hold up!” He ran to my side. “We don’t walk alone, and let’s move into the woods. We’re target practice out here.”
Jericho would have only reacted that way if Izzy was in danger, and staying behind would have been the cowardly thing to do. Aside from that, the camp was littered with trash, and the tracks were like breadcrumbs leading up to the bunker.
After a fifteen-minute hike, Wheeler forced me to rest. When I protested, his eyes flashed with irritation, and he threatened to rope me to a tree if I didn’t take it easy.
How could I take it easy? Austin was out there somewhere, and what if he needed me? What about my mom? My sister? My packmates?
We’d kept to the right side of the creek, periodically stopping to look for tracks and listen for any sounds.
Wheeler tossed a stick into the middle of the creek. “We need to cross to the other side.”
“Why didn’t you suggest this when we started? The water’s deeper and wider here.”
He stroked his beard. “Our territory is running out on this side of the creek. We’re not walking a straight line. If you remember the map, the creek moves to the right-hand corner of the territory, so we’re boxing ourselves in.”
I slicked my hands across my damp hair. “Maybe you should build a canoe.”
His smile withered, and he spun around. “There it is again. Did you hear that?”
“Squirrel?”
“A squirrel that’s been following us for the past ten minutes,” he said quietly. “Maybe they’re using them as scouts.”
The thought made me want to laugh hysterically.
My heart took off like a rocket when something long and black slithered through the trees. “Snake!”
Wheeler blocked my view and hustled toward the fallen tree. He bent over, and my mind raced with visions of black mambas and king cobras—neither of which were indigenous to the backwoods of Texas.
“That’s no snake,” he yelled in a flat voice. Wheeler turned, holding something under his arm.
“Spartacus?”
Wheeler stepped over thorny bushes, careful not to drop the cat. Sparty’s eyes were like golden rings around black holes. He was one of those animals who gave me the creeps, with no redeeming qualities that I could list. He lost out in the cuddly looks department, and he didn’t contribute to the house in any way unless you counted washing the floor by tipping over all the glasses. He also slept in unusual and inappropriate places. I once had the nightmare scared out of me when I opened up a kitchen cabinet and found him sleeping in a casserole dish.
“What are we going to do with him?” I asked.
Wheeler gave me an impassive look. “Toss him in the river?”
“Naya would skin you alive.”
He set the cat down. “I don’t think he’ll blow our cover. He’s been pretty stealthy up until now, and nobody’s going to pay attention to a cat.”
I touched my stomach and smiled.
Wheeler approached. “What is it?”
I took his hand and placed it on the left side. The baby was kicking hard enough that you could visibly see my skin moving.
His eyes widened. “Doesn’t that hurt?”
“Not unless I get kicked in the bladder.”
He shook his head and backed up a step. “Out of all the magic that exists in the Breed world, that’s the truest magic there is.”
“I’ve never heard you so profound.”
Wheeler had his moments sometimes, and this was one of them. He tried to hide his sensitive nature beneath all those tattoos and the tough attitude, but I got glimpses of it now and again.
A dove call interrupted us, and we looked toward the creek. Reno stood on the other side, waving at us.
Then I heard a sound coming from behind us that sent terror up my spine.
Wolves.
By their baying, I could tell they were fast approaching, and we had only seconds to make a decision.
Wheeler held my hand, and we treaded through the water.
“Wait!” I jerked his hand. “We can’t leave Spartacus.”
“Come on! Get your asses moving!” Reno bellowed.