Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
“This isn’t random,” I say, meeting Jensen’s gaze over the carcass. “And it’s not the work of a sick bastard.”
“No,” he agrees quietly. “It’s a message.”
“A message for who?” Red asks, keeping his distance from the grisly display.
“For us,” Eli says, his voice unnaturally calm.
“Someone’s been watching us,” Jensen says. “Following our trail.”
“Or they’ve been here all along,” I counter, scanning the tree line with renewed wariness. “Waiting for us somehow.”
Everyone else follows my gaze.
“The blood’s still liquid,” I go on, noting the way it pools rather than freezes in the snow. “This is recent. Hours, not days.”
“Well, well, well. Since when did you become Meredith Grey?” Red comments with a hoarse chuckle.
I would have laughed at the fact that Red watches Grey’s Anatomy if only his eyes weren’t narrowed at me in suspicion.
“Could have happened during the night,” Cole suggests. “While we were at the cabin. Maybe it wasn’t as cold.”
“No,” Jensen says with a certainty that draws my attention. “This was done this morning. After we set out for here.”
Suddenly, Duke throws his head back, yanking his reins free from the sapling with enough force to break it. A shrill whinny cuts through the cold air as he bolts, heading toward the tree line at the basin’s edge.
Oh fuck, my ride.
“Duke!” I call, already starting after him.
Jensen’s hand closes around my arm, stopping me. “Let him go.”
“Are you crazy? We can’t just—”
“Something spooked him,” Jensen cuts me off, his grip tightening. “Something that might still be out there. We stay together. He’ll be back. He’s not dumb. He’ll find his way to us.”
I wrench my arm free, anger flaring hot and quick. “That’s my horse! I’m not leaving him.”
“Jensen is right,” Eli says, his calm voice a counterpoint to the tension crackling between Jensen and me. “If Duke ran, there was a reason. Probably ran back to Angus at the cabin.”
“You don’t know that and it’s all the more reason then to find him before something else does,” I argue. “I’m going and you can’t stop me.”
A standoff ensues—me against Jensen and Eli, with the others watching from the sidelines.
Jensen moves closer, lowering his voice so only I can hear. “Aubrey, listen to me. We’re not abandoning Duke. I love that horse to death. But something out here is playing games with us, and I’m not letting you walk into a trap.”
The intensity in his eyes gives me pause. There’s genuine fear there, not for himself but for me. After what happened between us last night, I can’t dismiss it as merely professional concern.
“Fine,” I relent, though it costs me. “But what do we do? We can’t just leave him out here.”
“We’ll circle back toward the tree line together,” Jensen says, motioning to the others. “Everyone stays close, weapons ready.”
Red and Cole draw their rifles, while Hank produces a revolver from inside his coat. Eli stays close to the horses, keeping them calm with low murmurs and gentle touches. Once again I wish I had my weapon on me. Maybe I could ask them for a spare when we get back.
As we move toward the trees, I notice Jensen studying the snow intently, eyes tracking something invisible to me.
“What do you see?” I ask quietly.
“Tracks,” he replies. “But not Duke’s.”
I follow his gaze, squinting against the snow’s glare. At first I see nothing, then subtle indentations in the otherwise pristine snow, leading toward the same stand of pines Duke had bolted for.
“Human?” I ask, though something tells me it’s not.
Jensen shakes his head slightly. “Not exactly.”
Before I can press for clarification, a sound echoes from the trees—a horse’s distressed whinny, unmistakably Duke’s.
“There!” I point toward a flash of movement among the pines, Duke’s reddish coat visible for just a moment before disappearing deeper into the forest.
Jensen raises his hand, signaling the others to halt while he studies the terrain ahead. The forest here is dense, shadows pooling beneath the pines. Perfect cover for an ambush.
“We’re exposed out here,” Cole mutters, nervously scanning the tree line. “Fish in a fucking barrel if somebody’s got a rifle.”
“Nobody’s got a rifle,” Jensen says with a certainty I don’t understand. “They don’t work that way.”
“Work what way?” I demand, tired of the vague warnings and half-explanations. “What the hell do you think is out there, Jensen?”
He meets my gaze, and for a moment I think he might finally tell me the truth. Then his expression hardens.
“Stay here,” he orders. “All of you.” Before anyone can object, he’s striding toward the forest, rifle at the ready.
“Jensen!” I call after him. “For Christ’s sake!”
But he doesn’t look back, disappearing into the shadows between the trees.
“Your boyfriend’s more stubborn than you, city girl,” Red drawls, stepping up beside me.
I ignore the jab, focusing instead on the point where Jensen vanished. Minutes stretch into an eternity as we wait, the only sound the whisper of wind across snow and the occasional snort from the remaining horses.