Hour of the Lion

picked Thorson’s place instead of somewhere else? That junk-yard dog wouldn’t sit quietly while thugs tried to follow her. She yanked the knife from her calf sheath and dashed back across the storeroom.

The knob was already turning, so she waited until the door opened a crack, and then gave it a hard kick. The heavy oak slammed into the guy’s face with a thud she felt in her bones.

He dropped like a rock, a tranq gun clattering to the floor. One down.

She whipped through, jumped over the body, then paused to map out the situation. One bastard just entering. One had closed on Thorson, and she grinned. Joe would take the poor sucker apart.

The third rushed her, saving her time. She sidestepped, then kicked him and took his knee out. As he fell, she used his greasy hair to whack his head against the counter and winced as his skull fractured. Two down. Nice of Thorson to use solid oak for his door and counters. She glanced at him.

His opponent had pulled a knife. Thorson knocked aside his arm, plucked the blade from his hand, and jammed it into his chest. The man crumbled into a heap. A gleeful grin appeared on the old man’s face, then the sharp retort of a pistol split the air, and Thorson staggered backward against his desk. The splattering blood turned his paperwork a garish red.

No! Vic spun around. The gunman stood just inside the door. With a snarl, she flung her knife.

With a choking sound, he dropped his weapon to grab frantically at the blade in his throat. Blood sprayed across the wooden floor as he went down to his knees. Spasming, he fell forward.

“You play rough, little female.” Thorson was standing, one hand pressed to his shoulder. Blood streamed between his fingers.

“Jesus, I thought he’d killed you!” Giddy relief soared through Vic, and she grabbed his grizzled head to plant a kiss. One second of joy, then she dropped her jacket on the floor to strip off her T-shirt.

Wadding it up, she shoved the makeshift bandage against the bullet hole. “Does nine-one-one work here? Are you allowed to go to the hospital?”

“Yes and I am.” Thorson’s knees buckled, and he dropped into his chair.

“Stay,” she ordered like he was a dog, which was just wrong. She pulled her jacket on over her bra before grabbing the desk phone. As she punched buttons, she watched the door. If she’d have planned this, she’d have someone designated as a backup. More bad guys might be coming.

“What is the nature of your emergency?” came the voice.

“A robbery at the bookstore in Cold Creek. The owner got shot.”

The operator gasped-were they allowed to do that?-and then returned to her monotone, “I’m sending the police and ambulance. Please stay on the line until they arrive.”

Near the storeroom, the man she’d hit with the door groaned and tried to roll over. She dropped the phone long enough to walk over and slam his head against the floor.

A grin appeared on Joe’s face, pushing aside the lines of pain. “You were pulling your punches during our bar fight. I knew it.”

How could a guy remind her of her father, a drill sergeant, and her teammates all in one? Ignoring the ache in her chest, she scowled and snapped, “Just shut up and keep pressure on that wound.”

When a siren wailed its approach, she almost cheered. The cavalry had arrived.

A second later, the young deputy burst into the store and stopped dead at the carnage.

With adrenaline still pumping in her veins, and relief threatening to choke her up, she took it out on him. “You fucking idiot! I told nine-one-one the owner was shot. Have you ever heard of checking things out first?”

In the corner of her eye, she saw Alec doing just that, standing to one side, looking through the window. He entered silently and gently pushed his deputy aside before kicking the pistol away from the dead guy. His dark green eyes flickered over Vic and the downed men. When he looked at Thorson, his mouth tightened. “You’re getting’ slow, Joe. Is it bad?”

“Nah, missed the good stuff.” Thorson moved his shoulder and grimaced. “Hurts less than a clawing.”

“Oh, sure it does.” Alec looked around again, his face impassive, so coldly competent that Vic wanted to fling herself into his arms, and how wrong was that?

His gaze returned to Thorson. “What’re they after? They don’t have the scent of druggies.”

Thorson tilted his head. “Her.”

She’d already begun edging toward the storeroom door when Alec’s eyes pinned her to the spot. “Talk to me, Vixen.”

Looking out the window past him, she saw a dark car crawl down the street. One man. The backup. She retreated another step. “I need to get out of here.”

Alec turned, spotted the car.

An ambulance passed it and screeched to a stop with two wheels on the sidewalk. Joe would be okay. Thank you, God.

Frowning at her, Thorson jerked his head at the back. “Git.”

“Jenkins, take Thorson outside. I’ll lock the store behind you,” Alec ordered and elaborated, “If they ask, say a guy attacked Thorson, trying to get money, and escaped as you arrived.” He flashed a grin. “No need to mention the dead bodies or the short, skinny female.”

“Got it.” The deputy nodded, raised his eyebrows at Vic. “Thanks for the advice on reconnoitering. Now get out of here, short, skinny female.”

They seemed awfully blase about dead people.

With a sigh, she pulled the body blocking the storeroom away, then opened the door.

Alec stepped up behind her, tucking his fingers under her belt to halt her. “I’ll bring the car around to the park. Wait for me by the big oak.” He handed over her knife, then strolled out the front.

Indecision gnawed at her as she hurried through the back door. Make for the trees or let him help? Everything in her said go it alone. Teammates only got in the way or got hurt. If anything should happen to Alec… The thought stole her breath.

But as she crossed the park, the tall, wet grass flattened beneath her feet, leaving an indelible trail. They’d know exactly where she went. But she could manage. She’d almost reached the tree line when she spotted the big oak.

Guilt tightened her jaw. However Swane had found her, she’d targeted this town for him. Even worse, if she left a trail to the forest, his men would comb the mountain and might run into unprepared shifters.

Dammit. She’d have to do this the hard way-and accept help. Forcing herself to turn, she walked over to the oak and watched Alec’s car slide around the corner and up to her.

* * *

Less than an hour later, Alec stood in the tunnel entrance with his brother and Vicki. He frowned. The rain had turned to sleet. Up higher, it would be snowing heavily, and there wasn’t much daylight left.

Vicki shook her head. “I still think I should just let them trail me out of town.”

“No,” Calum said flatly. He turned to Alec, “I’ll join you in a couple of days. Will you be all right?”

In other words, could he manage hiking with a human up the mountain rather than running in cat form? Alec grinned and patted Vicki on the head. “We’ll be fine. She’s a tad on the short side, but she’s got heart.”

Her golden-brown eyes shot sparks, and he choked on a laugh. If she’d been a werecat, he’d be drawing back a mangled hand about now. After buttoning his heavy coat, he shouldered the pack of emergency supplies and clapped Calum on the shoulder. “Check on Thorson before you come up, would you? He was pretty hard hit.”

“Aye.” Calum ran a finger down Vicki’s cheek and murmured, “Little human, you’ve shortened my life by several years.” He gave Alec a brief smile. “Be safe, you two,” he said and headed up the steps.

As if mesmerized, Vicki stared after him, and Alec grinned. His brother had that effect on females. “Let’s go, Vixen. This isn’t an easy climb.”

She turned and looked at the mountain, her big eyes filling with misery. “I brought this mess on you all.”

“True. Of course, Lachlan shouldn’t have let himself be caught. Or he shouldn’t have run away in the first place. And Joe should have been more understanding so he wouldn’t have run away, and-”

“Okay, okay, I get the point.” She hefted her pack and followed him as he took the most direct path upward. “Where is this cabin anyway?”