One Growl [A Tigers of Twisted, Texas Novella] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Jane Jamison

Author:Jane Jamison
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Siren-BookStrand, Inc.
Published: 2015-08-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

“Kendra?” Rusk’s gut tightened as he surveyed her camp. Most of her equipment was packed and ready to go. The rest of it, however, was still in the same places he’d seen it before.

“Where’d she go? She should’ve been out of here by now.”

From Wash’s worried tone, Rusk knew his friend had the same awful feeling. “Something’s wrong.”

“Damn. I was hoping you wouldn’t say what I was thinking.”

Rusk picked up a partially filled backpack. “She wouldn’t have left with her things half-done like this.”

Wash, who was a good tracker, slowly walked around the outskirt of the campsite. “Shit.”

Rusk’s gut twisted. He was as good a tracker as his friend, but as a tiger, he was far better. Should he finally tell Wash what he was so he could shift? “What’d you find?”

“Footprints. Two sets of them.”

“Is one hers?” He started toward Wash, hating every second of the short journey.

“Three counting hers.” Wash squatted down and placed his fingertips to the ground. His gaze followed a line of prints headed out of camp.

“Fuck.” If ever Rusk wanted Wash to be wrong, it was now.

“See here?”

Rusk studied the ground at his friend’s feet. “Yeah?”

“See how the prints run together? Trampled so that it’s difficult to see where one leaves off and the other starts?”

“Which means she put up a struggle.” But not much of one. The disturbance around the footprints wasn’t a large area. “They came up behind her and caught her by surprise. She didn’t move around much afterward.”

“The assholes probably had a knife to her throat or a gun to her head.”

I’ll kill them. Once I find them, I’ll take them out of this earth for good.

Rusk’s inner tiger leapt to the surface. Any tiger would’ve done the same, ready to protect its mate. That or revenge her death. A growl rumbled out of him.

“There’s good news.”

Rusk’s growl grew louder as Wash stood up. “What good news?”

Wash’s gaze swept over the camp. “I don’t see her.”

He blinked, the tiger thrown into confusion. And then it hit him. They didn’t see her dead body. “Yeah, but they’ve taken her hostage.”

“Which means we can get her back.” Wash started following the tracks. “Whatever we have to do, she comes first. Fuck the money and fuck them. Agreed?”

Wash wasn’t a weretiger, but he was on the same page. They’d kill to keep her alive, even if they were forced to break protocol. Screw the FBI and its rules.

“Agreed. Lead on.”

“They’ve got to be at the only place we haven’t checked.”

“The washed-out gully.”

“Right.” Wash moved his rifle from his shoulder to his side, ready to use it.

They worked together, moving as quietly yet as quickly as they could through the brush. Without saying so, they went into clearings, hoping no one was watching. They were out in the open and easy targets, but there was no other way.

Wash lost the convicts’ tracks a couple of times but Rusk, shifting enough to use his more sensitive sense of smell without Wash noticing, managed to pick them up again a few yards farther down the trail.

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