Hunter's Heart

emotion overcome good judgment and escalated the danger they were already in.

Working quickly by flashlight, Ryon broke camp and tidied the area, making sure that he’d left behind no trace of their stay. A fleeting worry that she’d come back here to find him gone niggled at his brain. What if she’d only stepped away to take care of personal needs? He reached out through their bond.

Daria? No answer.

He tried again, waited ten more minutes, then dismissed the possibility of her absence being temporary. She’d left with no intention of coming back until she’d returned to August’s estate and taken care of unfinished business. He had to give her points for having the temerity to see their op through. Unfortunately, he had to deduct them for lack of good sense.

Grinning now, he dug in his pack. His mate wouldn’t get far, even armed with her own flashlight. Because of his secret weapon, she’d lose ground fast. He dug some more and the grin began to fade. No. She couldn’t have —

“Dammit!”

The night vision goggles were gone. They would make traveling much easier for her. If she had a big head start, they were in deep trouble. Glancing at the compass on his watch, he got his bearings.

Ryon gambled that she’d circle around to the north, then west to stay on the left of August’s goons and keep the river on her right. Hundreds of miles of untouched forest spread to the south, so it seemed reasonable that she wouldn’t take that route.

Unless she’d figured he would see it that way. He muttered another curse. Christ, what a mess. In the end, he settled on the northwest route. His gut told him that she would choose the quickest, safest way to reach her goal. She wasn’t stubborn enough to risk getting lost just to throw him off. He hoped.

The trek was slow going. His flashlight, though powerful, could illuminate only a few feet in front of him due to the dense tangle of plants that served as a barrier between him and what might be waiting beyond them. The world ended in darkness five feet in front of his body and slid at his back. It was a creepy sensation he could’ve done without. Even his wolf whined.

Ryon pushed on until daybreak. By then he worried that the security force had found her, or he’d missed her altogether. If August hurt her, Ryon would take the man to hell with him. His sharpened eyesight and smell had picked up a faint trail , but what if he was too late? Three hours past sunrise, fear had replaced worry. Without the cloak of night to hamper his tracking, he should’ve run her down by now.

What if thrummed in his brain. His nighttime jaunt had left him tired and desperate. Stopping for a drink and to decide where to go next, he was reaching into his pack when he saw it.

There, hardly visible through the trees. A sliver of black T-shirt and long black hair.

Daria sat on a rotten log not twenty yards from where he stood, his night vision goggles resting beside her. She was so perfectly still on her perch, she had to have heard him approaching. The woman had planned on letting him march right by! His rare temper exploded. He stomped through the trees toward her, thinking it odd that she didn’t turn around.

“That’s right, it won’t do you any good to run!” he yelled. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t handcuff us together, mate.”

Daria didn’t react. Ryon stepped over the log, continuing his tirade and reaching out to grab her arm at the same time.

“Jesus Christ, do you have any idea how stupid—”

“Snake,” she whispered.

Ryon’s hand—and his blood—froze. Her brown eyes were wide with terror, her face ashen. He didn’t move and for a few seconds, didn’t breathe. Calm, stay calm.

“Where?” He had to strain to hear her answer.

“In my shirt.”

Son of a bitch.

“Front or back?”

“Front. I think it’s asleep.”

He studied the front of her shirt and noted the barely perceptible bulge at her stomach. The snake must be small, but in nature, a creature’s size didn’t matter at all. In fact, the smaller the animal the more venomous nature seemed to have made it in compensation. Even her wolf might not be able to recover from the poison.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, keeping his tone soft and even.

Ryon straightened and backed away, making as little noise as possible. Her eyes locked with his, frightened and beseeching. God, he might’ve startled the thing into biting her if he’d jerked her arm. He berated himself for an idiot. He should have known better when he’d seen her frozen like a statue.

He retrieved his pack and returned to stand behind her, agonizing over what to do. They couldn’t wait out the serpent, that much was obvious. It had found a nice, comfy nest to sleep away the day and most likely wouldn’t move again until nightfall. Daria would pass out first, either from exhaustion or fright.

“I’m going to cut your shirt off. It’s the only way.”

“Okay. Ryon, I—”

“Shh. Stop talking.”

“Hurry.”

Slipping a hunting knife from his boot, Ryon fought to quiet his racing heart. Hands trembling, he pushed her ponytail aside, grasped her T-shirt at the collar with one hand, and positioned the blade of the knife pointing downward. Slowly he began to cut, splitting the shirt open at her back. Her lacy white bra peeked at him from beneath, hugging perfect bronze skin. His gut knotted and he forced himself not to think of what would happen to that perfection if he failed.

Next he made a cut from each armhole in order to let the garment fall away from her skin without jostling the snake. Last, he tugged the shirt from her waistband, inch by torturous inch, until all that remained to be done was lift it away—hitchhiker and all.

Moving around to her front, Ryon knelt between her splayed legs. Sweat trickled into his eyes. He swiped an arm across his brow, then began to pull the shirt off, gathering it at her stomach. He looked into her white face and nodded.

“I’m going to put my hand underneath the snake to support it as I lift it away. Here goes.”

Ryon carefully slid one hand under the bundle, the other on top. He had to resist the strong urge to lurch to his feet and sling the creature. A sudden move, however, would result in one of them getting bitten. Legs shaking, he stood with agonizing slowness. As he did, part of the mutilated material slid off the creature to reveal its head and color pattern.

Red and yellow kills a fellow, red and black, friend of Jack. His heart slammed painfully against his ribs. Death rested in his hands. Awake now, the coral snake raised its head to stare at him with cold, beady eyes, tongue flicking. Never taking his attention from the serpent, Ryon continued to back away from Daria until he was positive she was out of danger.

With all his strength, he flung it far out into the forest.

“Oh God!” Daria’s voice broke and she buried her face in her hands, elbows on her knees. “I sat down to rest and that thing crawled up my arm and into my shirt. I couldn’t move.”

Ryon reached her in two long strides and sat on the log beside her. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her and gathered her against his chest. His body leapt to painful awareness of hers pressed close, trembling, her skin smooth as silk under his roughened palms. Her dark head was tucked under his chin, one hand clutching the front of his shirt as though she’d never let go. Fierce protectiveness swelled around his heart, making his chest ache.

“It’s all right,” he crooned. “You’re okay. I’m here, baby.” He murmured other things too, lilting words he knew she didn’t catch—but she didn’t have to know their meaning to allow them to soothe her. She began to relax.

“Never run from me again,” he rasped. “Never. Swear it to me.”

“I swear.”

For a while she was content to let him hold her, accepting the comfort he offered. At last, she drew away and wiped at her face. He felt the loss of her warmth, immediate and disconcerting.