Hunting Moon (Decorah Security Series, Book #11): A Paranormal Romantic Suspense Novel (13 page)

That was impossible—not when the only landline was in his office, and cell phone use was restricted. Which left the possibility—that the man had stumbled into a situation he didn’t like and had decided to rescue a woman in trouble.

The guy had somehow managed to get inside the compound and wrest Tory away. But now they were closing in, and he was out of luck.

That left out the part about the wolf. Raymond shook his head, unable to fit the animal into the picture.

When Harrison came running through the woods, Raymond pushed back his wet hair and tried not to look like he was winded from all the walking.

“How far behind are we?” he asked.

“About a quarter mile.”

He gritted his teeth as he and Norland hurried to join the others.

His security men looked up as he approached, guns drawn. When they saw the familiar trio, they lowered their weapons. They were standing in a circle near the top of the hill. He didn’t have to actually be here. After they’d freed him from his bonds, he’d been tempted to go back to the Refuge and medicate himself with a stiff drink.

But he’d pushed that thought out of his mind immediately. Slogging through the wet woods had no appeal, but it was the only way to be in on Tory’s capture. Besides, nobody was going to humiliate him in front of his employees like this and get away with it.

As he joined the circle of men, he could tell by their faces that they were excited.

Smith gave him a direct look. “I heard a scream a few minutes ago. Then I spotted a new trail broken through wet leaves down a steep slope. Up until now they’ve been careful. This is different.”

“A trail?” he asked, his voice sharp. “What if it’s a trap?”

“That’s possible, but it’s more like someone tripped and took a slide down that hill. They could be injured.”

“And the bastard who kidnapped Tory could be down there with a gun, waiting for us to follow.”

Costa, his chief of security, agreed. “We should spread out and approach with caution. You stay up here.”

“What if it really is a trick?” Chambers asked.

“Like how?” Raymond snapped.

“What if they slid a log down the hill to make it look like they tripped and fell?”

Raymond considered that, then turned to Smith. “Show me what you found.”

The tracker led him about fifty yards farther on and pointed to a streak on the ground running toward the edge of a ravine. The displaced leaves and long sweep of mud certainly looked like someone had taken a quick slide down the hill.

After several moments, he said, “Okay, send a couple of guys down. But be careful.”

Brand got as close as he could to the guards and Dr. Raymond, who had come huffing up to join the main party, looking like he wished he had a golf cart to take him through the woods.

One of the men was pointing down the hill where Tory had taken her slide. Others were following the direction of his outstretched arm. Obviously they were going with the most likely explanation, that she’d taken an unexpected ride down the hill—and maybe gone over the edge.

Brand thanked God that he’d left Tory fifty yards farther along the edge of the cliff.

The wolf counted the men in the party. He could see five, but there might be more. Could he take them all out? If that was the only way to save Tory, he would have to do it.

He’d brought men down as part of a rescue operation like the one at the Hamilton Labs a few months ago, but he’d never killed one while in wolf form. He knew his cousin Ross had done it once, and sworn never again—then been forced to take out the man who had kidnapped his mate.

Brand was in a similar position now, only it wasn’t just the guy he’d killed back at the Refuge. It was seven, and the only way to save Tory and himself was to eliminate them one by one—silently before they realized what was happening. Luckily a wolf didn’t need a gun. He only needed his teeth and claws, backed up by skill and cunning.

Two of the security guards went down the hill, following Tory’s rough slide, and Brand prayed that they wouldn’t figure out that she was fifty yards to the east. The other stalkers fanned out, guns drawn, searching the woods in case she had avoided sailing over the cliff and come back up.

Carefully planning his strategy, the wolf selected the man to his far right. Staying parallel with his quarry, he slipped from tree to tree as the man looked for signs of the fugitives.

Silently moving closer, Brand kept pace with him, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment. It came when the man stepped into a depression in the ground and was thrown slightly off balance. With his target at a disadvantage, the wolf sprang, knocking the guy into a bed of leaves, teeth slicing into the skin at the back of his neck. He made a low sound and tried to get the gun into firing position. Brand clamped down on his wrist, and he dropped the weapon. Brand flipped him over, and he sprawled on the ground, his eyes full of shock and fear as he stared up at the animal that had taken him down. Brand chomped again, severing bone and blood vessels. He kicked the gun away and waited until he was sure the man wasn’t getting up again. He didn’t allow himself to dwell on what he had done. He simply went off in search of his next target.

The guards had spread out to cover as much ground as possible. The next man Brand encountered was also by himself, edging cautiously down the hill, careful of his footing in the wet leaves. Again the wolf used the natural surroundings to good advantage. When the man was close to a rock outcropping, the wolf leaped on his back, slamming him into the jagged stone barrier and at the same time sinking sharp teeth into his gun arm, biting and shaking the limb until it went limp.

The man tried to fight for his life, but his struggles were of no use against a wolf determined to save the life of his mate. Brand finished him off and faded into the woods, considering his next move.

oOo

Tory was still shivering in her wet clothes, and coping with the aftereffects of the drugged soup the doctor had forced her to drink. She’d thought she was finally back to normal mentally. Then she’d realized she was acting dumb as a box of rocks.

Like now. Brand had given her a dry shirt from his pack and she was still wearing her wet one. She glanced up, making a wry sound. None of the guards was up there watching her, and if they were, she’d be in worse trouble than having them see her half naked.

Brand was another matter. She wanted him to see her that way. And not just half naked. A picture flashed into her mind—the two of them as God had made them, rocking in each other’s arms. It warmed her, and she let herself enjoy the sensation for a moment—until reality intruded.

A twig snapped. Then she heard the sound of stealthy footsteps approaching along the top of the cliff.

It could be an animal, but she didn’t think so. It sounded like a person treading cautiously. And it couldn’t be Brand. If he was coming back, he’d let her know it was him. Which meant it must be one of the guards trying to sneak quietly through the leaves as he searched for her.

While she listened to the man getting closer, she fought panic, struggling to keep her thoughts coherent. Brand had left the rope up there tied to a boulder because she might need to come up by herself. But was it hidden well enough so that it wouldn’t give her location away?

If the guy saw it, he could come down here and capture her—or tell the others where she was. Unless she acted first.

In her fogged mind, she knew that either option was a risk—but she decided she wasn’t going to huddle on this ledge praying for invisibility. Standing, she was relieved to find that her twisted ankle felt almost normal. Next she grasped the rope and tested her hold. When she felt secure, she used her hands and legs to pull herself up, taking Brand’s advice not to look down. Nearing the top, she moved cautiously, inching up until she could barely look over the edge. One of the goons—the guy who had taken her to breakfast this morning—was about twenty yards away, moving slowly along the cliff edge. She could tell by his deliberate pace that he hadn’t spotted her. She ducked down, grasping the rope tightly with her legs and hands, thankful that she had the muscles to hold herself in position.

Her heart pounded as she braced her feet against the rock wall below the cliff edge and waited for the guy to come closer. As he moved slowly and deliberately forward, she wanted to scream at him to hurry up before the muscles in her arms and legs gave out.

After an eternity, he was finally almost even with her.

She heard him pause, then mutter aloud, “What the hell is a rope doing out here?”

As he shuffled closer to the cliffs edge, bending to look down at the man-made intrusion into the landscape, she shot up one arm, grabbed his ankle and yanked with all her might.

She had the advantage of surprise. When he made a startled sound and tried to jerk out of her grasp, she held on with all her strength, shaking his leg and pulling him off balance.

Cursing, he wheeled his arms, desperately trying to keep himself from plummeting into the ravine, but there was nothing he could grab.

He toppled off the edge, his scream echoing through the forest as he fell toward the bottom of the chasm, then landed like a sack of oranges on the rocks below.

Tory was frozen in place for several moments. Rousing herself, she slid back down the rope, her hands burning as they scraped along the rough fibers. She was shaking now, totally shocked by the reality of what she had done. She had planned her moves and pulled a man off into space. Probably he was dead. Or if not, he was horribly battered. But he was one of the guards who had done Dr. Son of a Bitch’s bidding, like driving a woman crazy was just a normal job. He’d known what he was doing, and finally it had come down to one choice—his life or hers.

The others must have heard the scream, but they didn’t know his location. She prayed that they would think he had slipped and gone over the edge of his own accord.

Looking up, she saw the length of the rope dangling along the side of the cliff. Quickly she pulled as much of it as possible under the rock ledge, then huddled under the overhang, listening intently for signs that more guards were coming. When her teeth started to chatter, she remembered she was still wearing the wet shirt. Pulling it off, she quickly slipped into the dry one that Brand had given her.

As soon as it touched her skin, Brand’s unique woodsy scent filled her nose, then drifted to the back of her throat and from there into her brain. Her eyes fluttered shut to better appreciate the sensation. It felt almost like he was holding her in his arms, protecting her. But she couldn’t keep up the illusion. He wasn’t holding her. He was out there—in danger because of her. At least she’d evened the odds a little by eliminating one of the bad guys.

oOo

Brand heard a long, desperate scream ringing out in the night.

Oh Lord, was it Tory?

He told himself that was impossible. It must be one of the guards—going over the edge. As he ducked behind a rock outcropping he heard two men moving toward the drop-off. His wolf’s ears pricked as he listened to their frantic talk.

“Chambers must have taken a nosedive over the cliff edge.”

“Where was he exactly?”

“Don’t know.”

“Chambers,” someone called.

There was no answer.

After several more shouts with no reply, one of the men said, “He must have gone over.”

“Slipped the same way the woman did.”

“She’s probably at the bottom of the cliff, too.”

“Any chance he’s still alive? Somebody should have a look.”

The men stayed huddled together. Neither made a move toward the ravine. Probably they were afraid to risk it now that one of their number had gone over. And it bolstered the theory that Tory had also taken a header into space before they’d arrived on the scene.

Another voice rang out from above.

“I heard a scream. What happened?” It was Raymond who was apparently not willing to chance his footing on the slope.

“Chambers went over.”

“How?”

“We figure it was an accident.” One of the men started up the hill toward the doctor. “Probably that’s what happened to the woman. They both slipped on the wet leaves.

“Don’t make that assumption,” Raymond snapped, his tone giving away his exasperation. “Keep looking.”

The order was followed by a couple of weary sighs from the men.

“What about the guy who was with her?” one of them asked.

“You’d know it if he was still around. He’s long gone,” the doctor answered, probably assuming Brand would cut his losses and run.

One of the guards looked around the area. “What about Smith and Gerard? Where are they at?”

Probably the two men Brand had killed. He saw the remaining searchers exchanging uneasy glances as they thought about why two of their companions hadn’t come running at the sound of the scream.

“They must be too far away to hear what’s going on,” the doctor answered, giving his men more wishful thinking instead of leadership.

“I don’t know,” one of the remaining guards muttered. “What if something’s happened to them?”

“Like what?”

“Like the guy got them.”

“How could he?” Raymond asked. We haven’t heard any shots fired.

Neither man answered, but Brand would bet the two remaining men wanted to cut their losses and get out of the woods. Too bad for them that they couldn’t simply refuse to continue the fatal exercise.

Raymond spoke in a low voice, issuing orders, and the men separated again, resuming the search pattern.

Brand kept to his original plan, which had worked pretty well the first two times. Silently he stalked the man who was farthest to the right, waiting until he was out of sight before springing from behind a tree, going for the killing bite again. This time the man’s gun discharged. The shot missed Brand, but it brought the other guy running. Brand left the man on the ground and weaved into the trees, heading uphill.

He heard Raymond call out as footsteps pounded toward the fallen guard.

“What happened?”

Seconds later, the man answered, “It’s Gerard. His neck is . . . all cut up,”

“By a knife?”

“By an animal.”

“Jesus.”

“Suppose that’s what happened to Smith? Remember we saw a wolf at the compound. Maybe the guy is working with it.”

The doctor didn’t contradict the speculation, but apparently he wasn’t willing to give up yet. “Give it another half hour.”

“Okay,” the guard with the doctor answered, but when Brand followed him, he saw that the guy was leaving the area—heading back the way the search party had come.

oOo

Raymond tried to hurry up the hill, slipping on leaves as he went, wishing there were some hiding place that he knew was safe. Things weren’t going the way he’d planned. He felt vulnerable in the middle of the woods. In the rain. He knew he should have stayed back at the Refuge—for safety’s sake. But if he hadn’t accompanied the search party, he knew the men would have given up by now and come back with their tails between their legs. Or maybe they wouldn’t have come back. Maybe they would have been afraid to admit their failure and would have put distance between themselves and the facility.

He cursed under his breath, wishing that was an option for him. What the hell was he going to do if the men didn’t find the girl? How could he report to Freemont that a stranger had come into the compound and spirited her away?

As he tried to imagine the mobster’s reaction, he shuddered. He’d accepted a job from a very dangerous man. At the time he’d been buoyed by past successes and sure he could deliver the information he’d promised. Now he was considering his exit strategy in earnest.

He didn’t even know how many of his men were left. What if he called off the hunt, went back to the Refuge, and took the money he’d already been paid.