Page 25

Deep in the Mountains of Olympic National Park

T wo weeks and nearly a hundred miles later, Jayden pressed her body back as far as she could into the crevice where a section of soil had eroded away. The only thing holding the tree—and her—in place was where the tree had grown into the rock.

“I could’ve sworn I saw something,” a grumpy voice muttered.

“You’ve been saying that for the last two days,” the second man snapped.

“Aw, come on, Bishop. It’s not my fault the boss is mad.”

“Shut up, Carter.”

“What’re we going to do about those wolf shifters looking for her?” Carter asked.

“I said shut up. I’m trying to think.”

Carter snorted and spat a wad of slimy spit out. Jayden turned her face into her arm when the wad struck inches from her head. The smell made her want to vomit.

“I think we should kill them,” Carter muttered.

Small rocks rained down when someone twisted above her. Jayden bit her lip. Her arms and legs were trembling with fatigue. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold herself in the tight spot.

“We can’t kill them—yet,” Bishop responded after a brief pause.

“Why not?”

“Think, you idiot! If we kill them before we find the missing human, what do you think will happen?” Bishop demanded.

“Duh, they’ll be dead?”

“Jeez, why do I even try to explain things to you? If we kill them now, then there will be a huge investigation with swarms of Observatory and SBSI agents out here. If we can find her before they do, we take her and they can look all they want—they won’t find anything,” Bishop explained.

“But… what if they find her first?” Carter asked.

Bishop released a long sigh. “Then, I’ll let you kill them.”

Carter grunted with approval. “I like that idea better. I think we should just let ‘em find her. I don’t like all this living in the wild stuff. I think I’ve got a rash from shitting in the woods,” he complained.

“I don’t care about your?—”

Jayden strained to hear as their voices faded into the distance.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she let go of her foothold.

Slowly, her body eased out of its hiding spot, blending seamlessly with the shadows.

With every ounce of strength, she held onto the roots, desperately trying to maintain her balance on the steep incline.

As she forced her feet into the rocky section, the sharp edges dug into her skin, but she refused to let her protesting limbs deter her.

Gripping the root tightly, she descended the edge of the rock face with slow and deliberate movements.

By the time she reached the bottom, her clothes clung to her body, drenched in sweat.

Looking back up, she assessed that she had descended about two hundred feet, giving her a sense of relief that she had put some much-needed space between herself and the two shifters who were hunting her.

Not wanting to cross paths with the two shifters, she decided to descend the cliff rather than going back up. Luck had favored her when she spotted them. If she hadn’t positioned herself downwind and at a lower elevation, the chances of them discovering her would have been much higher.

Her eyes darted around the area, filled with hesitation, as the man’s haunting words reverberated in her mind. I think we should kill them. I think we should kill them. I think we should kill them.

A sinking feeling settled in her stomach as she realized they were discussing Van and Peterson.

She turned to the north, her eyes scanning the vast expanse of towering mountains.

The cave was only a few days’ hike away, as long as she stayed on track and didn’t take any detours.

Her fingers clenched tightly around the straps of her backpack, feeling the rough texture against her skin.

I can’t go there—not as long as those two men are hunting me.

Turning slightly, she looked down the wooded slope to the southwest. The direction that the men were coming from indicated that Van and Peterson were there. She urgently needed to warn them about the imminent danger they were facing.

Frustration and the fear of being cornered waged a fierce battle within her.

How did she warn the guys and stay one step ahead of the shifters hunting her?

The distinct sound of wings flapping caught her attention, causing her to glance upwards.

Above her, the barred owl, which had been following her like a ghostly shadow, sat quietly on a rock, twenty feet away.

“You wouldn’t be interested in delivering a message for me, would you?” she asked.

The idea was completely absurd and outlandish.

She realized the futility of her attempts to convey her needs to the owl, as it remained completely oblivious to her words.

With a shake of her head, her frustration was growing along with her feelings of indecision.

The realization hit her that relying on an owl as her sole friend in solitude may not have been the best choice.

Biting her lip, she considered the possibility that Van and Peterson might stumble upon the path she left behind. Balancing the need to avoid leaving any clues for the bad guys and the urgency to warn Van and Peterson, she pondered how to accomplish both without jeopardizing her mission.

If she backtracked, she could leave something without jeopardizing her mission.

She just needed to get between Van and Peterson and the bad guys.

Except … that still left that she didn’t know where they were.

The forest comprised hundreds of square miles and she didn’t have the super sniffers that Van and Peterson did.

“Maybe they will smell the bad guys!”

That thought made the most sense. While she had been super careful, traveling along the rocky ridges or using the streams and river as much as possible, she highly doubted that the two shifters from above had done the same. The daily rains would have helped to conceal her tracks and scent, as well.

Sending a silent prayer that Van and Peterson already were onto the two men, she decided the best plan for her was to reach the cave, find her grandfather’s box, and head to one of the clan’s old camping spots along the Elwah River.

She could rest, fish, and see if she could decipher that code her ancestor had left.

Her attention flickered to the owl, and she gave the creature a rueful smile. “Warn me if you see anything suspicious, okay? I could use all the help I can get,” she requested before reluctantly setting off.

Four hours earlier:

Van clenched his fist and looked up from where he was crouching as Peterson approached. Rising to his feet, he studied the remains of the campsite. It was obvious from both the amount of evidence and the smell that the campsite hadn’t belonged to Jayden.

They had been about to give up and call for re-enforcements six days ago when they had their first break in their search for Jayden.

Their first clue had been a hairband with fine strands of silver-blonde hair tangled in it.

It was the strangest thing. They had stopped to take a brief rest and the hairband had been hanging from a branch.

A brief search had revealed an opening beneath a fallen log. They had discovered evidence of a fire, moss piled to form a bed, and the remains of a rabbit and fish. He had been both impressed and relieved. Jayden had spent some time there, most likely through the storm.

Over the last five days, there had been other unexpected clues. It was too much of a coincidence to think the clues were random. The only thing he and Peterson could conclude was that Jayden was giving them bread crumbs to follow her.

They had picked up on the unusual scent of two shifters two days ago. Peterson pursed his lips and gave him a curt nod. He waited until his friend was closer before he spoke.

“What did you find?” he asked.

“Tracks leading north-northwest,” Peterson replied.

“Anything from Jayden?” he asked.

Peterson shook his head. “No, she is too good for that. I checked in with Grayson and Beau to give them an update and see if they have heard anything.”

Van continued to study the campsite. While there was only the imprint of one shifter, his wolf had picked up a second scent. There had also still been a little heat under the ash. The fire was less than a half-day old. They were slowly catching up with whoever was searching for Jayden.

“Did they give you any clue about who might have leaked Jayden’s disappearance?”

Peterson shook his head again. “They haven’t found anything yet.

Hell, it could have been anyone. It might not have even been intentional.

Word spreads that a human is missing, someone mentions it over a beer, it gets heard, and every Tom-Buck-and-Beaver gets the bright idea to go looking for her.

There are a lot of workers who might not even realize they screwed up. ”

His expression tightened. “They need to be aware.” He looked down at the fire pit again. “Thank the Goddess it didn’t rain last night. The soil under the ash was still warm. We’re catching up to whoever it is.”

“Do you want to shift? We could cover more ground if we do,” Peterson suggested.

He was about to agree when a heavy thud in the bushes ten feet from him had him twisting. The hair on the back of his neck rose and a low snarl of warning slipped from both himself and Peterson. He motioned for Peterson to take the left while he took the right.

They moved in unison toward the noise. Peterson lifted his chin and sniffed the air before giving him a negative. Scanning the ground, he paused when he noticed a candy wrapper. He lifted it to his nose and sniffed. His head jerked back when he caught the unpleasant scent of a warthog.

“Damn it.”

Peterson came up to stand beside him. “What is it?”

He held the candy wrapper out to Peterson. Peterson took a tentative sniff. Peterson’s powerful reaction mirrored his own.

“Damn.”