Alone in the Wild by Kelley Armstrong

Author:Kelley Armstrong
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

TWENTY-SIX

I twist as a figure emerges from the trees. She’s wrapped tight in a parka, hood pulled up, bulky boots on her feet. In her hands, she holds another rifle. When she turns to me, I see a face even harder than the man’s.

She pulls down her hood to get a better look at me. She’s younger than me, maybe mid-twenties. Blond hair. Wide-set blue eyes. High cheekbones. A mouth that looks like it should be pouting in some sultry ad for fifty-dollar lipstick. Pretty, in a chilly Nordic way.

I glance at the man, having not paid close attention to what he looks like until now. He’s closer to my age, dark-haired, sporting a solid build with a scar cutting across his nose.

As she approaches, he gestures at me, grinning like a child showing off newfound treasure.

“Huh,” the woman says. Her gaze is as coldly assessing as his. “Where’d she come from?”

“She says she’s with trappers, but I ain’t seen no trappers. I think she’s all by her lonesome. Just her and that thing.” He motions to Storm. “She claims it’s a dog.”

“Huh,” the woman says again. She turns that assessing look on Storm and then back to me.

“You think she’ll fetch much?” the man says.

I shrug. “Not really. She expects you to fetch with her.”

The man snorts a laugh.

“I don’t get it,” the woman says, in a low tone that warns me she doesn’t appreciate being excluded. She doesn’t know what playing fetch is, meaning she’s from these woods, like Dalton. The man is not.

“You’re asking how much you can get for me,” I say. “Thank you for your interest, but I’m not for sale. Now, I’m going to take my dog—”

The woman swings behind me, lightning fast. My hand clenches, itching to feel the gun in my hand, but I’ve missed my chance to do that easily. As my heart picks up speed, Storm growls. I pet her and murmur that it’s all right, even if I’m no longer sure it is.

“How do you feel about getting yourself a husband, girl?” the man says.

“I’ve got one. Also, I’m not a girl. I’m older than either of you.”

“She’s got a smart mouth, doesn’t she?” the man says. “That’ll bring the value down.”

The woman snorts. “Did it bring my value down, Owen?”

He grins at her. “That’s a different story.”

“It’s just a matter of finding the right buyer. Like with any goods, you turn the flaws into assets. You’re not going to sell that mound of fur to someone who wants a hunting dog. And you’re not going to sell this girl to a man who wants a quiet little mouse. Well, unless you cut out her tongue. Which is always an option.”

I want to say they’re trying to spook me. That’s what Dalton and I would do, the sort of repartee that, afterward, we’d laugh about and say “Can you believe they actually took us seriously?” That could be what’s happening here. They’ll talk about selling me like a side

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