Leap of the Lion (The Wild Hunt Legacy #4)(83)

“Nope. I just want you here.” Sounded reasonable to him. Her ass was a soft weight on his thighs, her breasts pressed against his chest, and every breath was filled with her feminine fragrance. Want was a poor word for what he needed from her, but it would do.

When she finally looked up, he smiled at her…and took her lips. There was no full moon heat driving them tonight, and yet, when her lips yielded under his, when she softened and opened to his tongue, the flames were hot enough to sear.

Maybe he couldn’t say the words, but as he held her and kissed her, he tried to let his actions convey what he felt. That this was where she belonged. That he cared.

When he finally lifted his head, she was clinging to him.

“So, brawd.” Gawain stretched his legs out, amusement and approval in his gaze. “While we search, are we working on anything with Darcy tomorrow?”

Before Owen could answer, Darcy sat up straighter. “I need to learn how to work around the wind.” She patted Owen’s arm. “The same way you did with those humans in Seward Park. You hid your scent until the time you wanted the dogs to notice you.”

Interesting. Most new shifters wanted to practice running down prey. But working the wind was a valuable skill—and necessary for hunting, as well. “All right. Anything else?”

“Everything else?” Her smile disappeared. “Mostly, I want to be able to get up into trees and be able to leap from rock to rock without messing up. And I can’t. Cats are supposed to be all graceful, but I swear, I have four left paws.”

“Four…what?”

“Human saying, brawd.” Gawain handed him the skin of scotch. “Having two left feet is a way to say someone is clumsy.”

Owen eyed his moccasin-clad feet, trying to envision having two left ones. “Humans are weird sometimes.”

*

“Whatcha working on, O’Connolly?” The question came from an aging detective in the Seattle police station. “It’s quitting time, you know.”

Tynan looked up from the computer on his desk. “I know. Remember that woman’s body they pulled out of the Sound at Lincoln Park? I’m wondering if anything similar happened in the past few years in West Seattle.”

“Like murders and shit?” The pot-bellied human was getting close to retirement—and his indifferent expression said his mind was already there.

“Just curious.”

“Good luck with that.”

The bullpen was never silent, but at least, the nosy detective was gone. Tynan frowned at the map on the computer monitor. Darcy had identified the body pulled from the Sound as one of her fellow captives. Poor lass. She’d not only suffered years of captivity, but also the loss of friends. It was a wonder she was sane.

But she was a strong female.

Now, it was up to him to find her villagers.

When Darcy escaped, she’d run wildly, darting various directions, even doubling back a time or two. She hadn’t any notion of the distance she’d covered. However, she’d given him a few tidbits. Sometime during her escape, she crossed over a big river first and then a multilane freeway, which had to be I-5. Also, she knew her general direction had been east, and she’d ended up in Seward Park. West of Seward Park, the river had to be the Duwamish Waterway, which meant that bloody wall-enclosed prison had to be somewhere in West Seattle.

Now, if he were an asshole with a dead body to dump in the Sound, he’d pick a nearby location—a familiar area. Since the dead body had washed up around Lincoln Park, he’d search in the surrounding Gatewood and Delridge neighborhoods first.

He pushed away from his desk and grabbed his jacket.

By the God, he’d find that fecking Scythe prison and get the people—his people—out.





Chapter Twenty-One





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As Gawain walked down the conifer-shaded forest trail, he sniffed. The damp, cool air helped to preserve odors, but he caught no scent of other shifters. There was also no hint of Darcy—which meant she was doing quite well.

Earlier, he’d taught her how to prevent the wind from revealing her presence. Her assignment this afternoon was to circle him as if he were a deer—and not spook her prey.

She’d done better than he’d anticipated.

Back near the rise, he’d caught her scent. He’d have to warn her about unexpected updrafts in the mountains. He’d also spotted a flash of her dark fur twice. Really, she’d improved immensely and was more prudent than others he’d trained. Smarter, too.

Fun, generous, and sweet. She had a beautiful spirit, one that resonated with his.

Now, he wanted more… He’d been patient, waiting for her to work past her fears. Waiting for Owen to see past his prejudices.

The last two nights, they’d all slept together in a panther pile. Tonight, he’d see if Darcy wanted to spend the night in human form. With him.

Owen could join them—or not. Gawain sighed. He really hoped his brother would. Sharing a female was one of the most rewarding, wonderful joys of being littermates.

But tonight was hours away. To keep Darcy on her paws, he audibly sniffed—and caught the wild scent of a different shifter.

Stopping, he cast about for the source, wishing he could shift to panther form where his senses would be more acute. The breeze brought him news of several deer in the distance. A badger had a hole just off the trail. No sounds of anyone or anything else. He said quietly, “Come in.”