The Bodyguard (Guardsmen Security Book 2) by Theresa Beachman

Author:Theresa Beachman [Beachman, Theresa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-09-22T04:00:00+00:00

They set up camp in a small courtyard they found behind the main entrance, hidden but also somewhat protected from the weather. Neither of them wanted to spend any more time than absolutely necessary in the silent buildings, and they had agreed without discussion that camping out as long as it didn’t rain was their preferred option. Inside, the small corridor they had traipsed through to find the courtyard stank of cleaning fluid and stale sweat.

The building rose around them in a sharp hexagon, windows reflecting the light of the fading sun.

Soon it would be dark.

Bea left Eli unpacking kit and erecting a tarp to provide protection from the weather. As well as MREs they had brought from Norway, the hotel owner had insisted on supplying them with additional food before they left. A loaf dark with rye in white paper, orange cheese, butter, and wedges of apple cake. Bea’s stomach rumbled with anticipation.

But her bladder was protesting. She needed to pee and badly.

She made her way out of the courtyard, back out the main entrance. Eli had tied the horse up in the shade, where it dozed, its tail flicking.

Following the line of the buildings took her round the side and to the rear where stunted forest provided a ramshackle boundary.

The wire fence was damaged here, and a gap ripped in the flexible grid allowed Bea to scramble under the razor-topped boundary. She brushed loose dirt from her stomach and headed into the green coolness on the other side, into the trees, pushing at spindly branches poking from trunks patterned with ochre-frilled lichens. Scant light filtered from above, and many of the lower branches were wizened versions of their former selves.

She glanced around. The space was secluded. Although it didn’t matter, there was no one here. She snorted softly at her own self-consciousness and popped the top button on her cargoes.

A low growl reverberated behind her.

What the?

Her fingers froze as the growl didn’t retreat, but increased in volume.

Neck muscles protesting, Bea craned to her left. Amber eyes set in a shaggy gray pelt met hers.

Wolf.

The animal growled again, gray lips pulling back from elongated canines as it advanced a pace.

Shit.

Her heart set up a fierce beat, adrenalin flooding her tingling limbs. It was less than eight feet away—one jump and it could take her down.

She widened her hands, firmly palming the trees on each side, not wanting to risk looking unsure. If she did, the animal would jump and that would be the end of her. Her hand closed around a branch and traveled along its length to where it met the trunk. The wood was rotten. A hard yank would free it. Probably.

The wolf snarled and took another step. Was it alone? Were there others just waiting to see if she was truly vulnerable?

She flexed her fingers around the damaged branch. There would be no second chance. She had to make this work first time.

A long breath out. She bent her knees, spreading her feet wide in a slow slide to increase the width of her base.

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