Predator Girl (A Paranormal Romance) (13 page)

What does this mean
? I observed Jared’s face. He had thick eyelashes, which I hadn’t noticed before. His bangs fell over one eye, down his cheek. One arm rested on his lean chest. He had good fingers, too, slim, no dirt under the nails. It drove me nuts when Rex touched me with his sausage fingers that reeked of old kill.

Jared’s nose twitched. He sniffed as he rolled over. I closed my eyes, just in case he woke up. I’d die of embarrassment if he saw me watching him while he slept. A yawn echoed in my ear. The mattress shifted. When I opened my eyes, I saw he had returned to the floor, sprawled over the dog beds.

I laid my head back down, feeling lonely for some reason. Why did I feel like this? Why did some tiny part of me wish he hadn’t moved to the floor?
This is bad, Ilume
. So he’d said a few nice things. So he looked at me now as an ally instead of an enemy. He’d adapted well to being a captive. He had an incredible amount of calm for a hostage, but maybe that’s what Hunters High had taught. No fear.

It didn’t matter. Crushes were no longer optional—especially on a human. My heart was in fragments, and Rex had them fenced in like barbed wire. I couldn’t even spare a piece. He would be my mate very soon. I would have to take him as mine or risk losing my pack, my home.

Jared was merely a tracker, a weapon, a pet. His stay was only temporary, and heaven only knew what would happen when Rex no longer had use for him. I couldn’t always protect him. As much as it hurt, I doubted he’d leave these woods alive.

There was no chance for such a ludicrous match as ours—Jared’s and mine.

Ever.

“Come on.” Ilume hopped down the steps. “Team one is already out hunting in the west. Let’s get going. We’re wasting time.” She turned her attention to the pack. “Just a reminder: everyone needs to be quiet as possible—no loud noises or growls or barks. This isn’t an average hunting day. Jared is the only one allowed to speak, and that’s only if he finds something.”

The pack moved in two sloppy lines, silent as we followed a path into the forest. Rex took the lead, Ilume and I trailing some feet behind him. Every now and then I’d look at her, but she would never spare me a glace. She was distant today, almost acting like I wasn’t there. It must’ve been because of Rex, or the weird moment we’d had last night. I was still trying to figure out why I had that bizarre, needy feeling when she wasn’t with me.

The woods were alive with bird calls, chattering squirrels, creaking branches, and flowing creeks. It felt like my senses had been flicked to
off
over the past couple days, for today everything was heightened. I heard the wings of a hawk as it landed overhead, ruffling its feathers. Mice and voles scurried in the underbrush, crunching leaves as they dived for their holes. The scent of wildflowers was more potent than an old lady’s perfume. Where had I been these last forty-eight hours?

The hunter in me took over. In minutes, I had latched onto the traces of a faerie—a dryad to be exact, seeing as she smelled of flesh and bark. Since it wasn’t what we were looking for, I crossed over her tiny footprints. None of the wolves bothered to glance at the evidence.

Several other traces of faerie appeared, along with a scent trail from an elf and some silver pixie dust from a northern sprite. Knowing my nose hadn’t betrayed me since my stay among Otherworlders thrilled me, happy to be back to doing what I was made for. Even though it was for someone who deserved a shovel up his you-know-where, it still made me smile.

We came up on the second hour when I found a dirty, urine and lake water scent. The pack came to a stop, ears perking. Rex sniffed and gave me a look. I read his expression: go find it. Leaving Ilume’s side, the odor took me off the trail. Debris crackled beneath my feet, sticky weeds snagging my jeans. I crushed them the best I could, trying to keep quiet.

It wasn’t long before I found the source of the smell. Imprints in the mud made their way around the trees, either covered with fallen leaves or misshapen from sliding. Bending down, I pulled back a prickly bush.

The hair on my neck spiked.

I stared at the long prints, thinking they were almost human-shaped—only with spindly ends. Their claws were twice as long as a dog’s, the impressions deep in the ground. These were not normal wolf feet. I stood up feeling itchy, unnerved, like I’d just crossed a ghost. It wasn’t what I expected, but I knew it was what we’d come for.

These had to be Jackal paw prints.

I felt a presence behind me. Ilume had followed, sniffing as she examined my find. “Good job, Jared,” she whispered, the first time she’d talked to me since we left the porch. “Can you follow them?”

I could, and I did. Unfortunately, after about twenty feet they disappeared into a shallow creek, and the scent became difficult to track. Rex ordered everyone across the water. We searched several different directions in a failed attempt. Everyone returned to the house for a break and lunch; when we came back we found no more signs of the Jackals. The smell never reappeared and the sun sank behind the trees.

We headed back to the trail.

The next day we tracked for several hours, finding new evidence and losing it to the creek every time. The remainder of the week continued much the same. Tracking the Jackals became my obsession. It was like a treasure hunt, their scent a map to hidden gold. There were pieces missing of course, mysteries that I needed to solve. I knew they used the creek as a walkway, for this explained their missing tracks. Every day we went a little farther, trying to see where the water led. The creek grew wider and wider, although never very deep. Every day I felt it: we were getting closer to a hide out, or maybe even to their headquarters.

The weekend arrived in no time, and suddenly my focus altered. On Friday night, we came home to find a group of other wolves at the house—well-groomed canines with brief cases in their jaws, purses around their necks or on their backs.

My heart stopped. I’d forgotten about the plan.

The hunt for the pack’s enemy had wiped out my idea to disappear. I’d completely forgotten that tonight was the night I meant to sneak out, escape and head home. I knew what way to go now, too, since I’d been introduced to the woods. I could smell fast-food, gasoline, the city lingering in the workers’ tracks.

The hunters raced out of the trees to greet them. Ilume and I stayed behind. She still acted strange, not saying much to me or looking me in the eye when I addressed her. For some reason, it annoyed me.

Why do you care?
I thought.
You’ll be gone tonight anyway. In a couple months, she and this whole experience with her will be a flicker in your mind.

Plus, once I returned I would have to turn them all in. They were untagged, and a pack this big that PIU didn’t know about—people would flip their lids.

The wolves wagged their tails, licked each other’s faces. They looked so happy. Free.

You could get in severe trouble if you don’t tell.

It was true. I would be withholding information should I decide to not say anything to the government. It was a legal violation. They could expel me from Hunters High, fine me or put me in jail.

Inside, the mansion’s main floor was crowded and loud as families reunited. I managed to slip through them, sneaking upstairs with minimal stares. I went into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

Moving to the window, I lifted the glass to the roof. Only one question remained: where was the lowest part of the house? I would need a drop point that wouldn’t break my legs.
Crap.
Well, even without a drop point, there were always the trees. Two leaned in, their branches kissing the mansion’s side. I could climb down.

But do I want to?
I ran my hands over my face, thinking about what to do. Tons of Finders had tried to hunt the Jackals, pinpoint their exact whereabouts. No one had done it. If I could find them, I’d have the locations for two untagged packs versus one—I could kill two birds with one stone. PIU would pay huge rewards to know such things about rare Otherworlders.

My heart sputtered. There was something else, too. Something outside of the Jackals that grounded me here. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but a tan face with green eyes kept coming to mind.

What is wrong with you?
I pulled on my hair, leaning against the sill. No. No way was Ilume part of my desire to stay. She’d kidnapped me! Sure, I felt bad that she was stuck here with that overbearing dumb ass, but it wasn’t my deal. Not my problem. I didn’t care.

But what if?
I left the bathroom, feeling like all my energy had drained out my feet. What if by some weird, twisted chance I did care about her just a tiny bit?

I flopped down on my bed, staring out the French doors. A few dark clouds had hid the sun earlier, but now they covered the entire sky. No orange and pink sunset decorated the balcony this evening—just dull, grey light.

I need a sign.
I closed my eyes.
Some kind of sign to tell me what I should do.

The bedroom door opened. Ilume glided in, cocking an eyebrow as she spotted me on the floor. “Oh. I wondered where you disappeared to. What are you doing?”

Contemplating escape.
“I’m just tired. Not really in the mood for a crowd.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.” She crawled onto her bed, flicking the lamp switch on. Plucking her memoir off the nightstand, she nestled into her pillows, adding, “I’ll grab you some food shortly. They’re having a party down there. It gets kind of crazy Friday nights, but you’ll get used to it.”

I’ll get used to it.
Was that my sign?

A loud rumble echoed outside, causing us to snap up our heads. The sound of splattering echoed off the windows. A flash streaked the sky, lighting up the woods right before the downpour.

A thunderstorm. Rain would wash out the workers’ scents in no time. It would be hard to follow them now, and I didn’t exactly have clothes for this kind of weather.

Ilume smiled for the first time in days. “I love thunderstorms,” she said.

Water cascaded down the iron rails of the balcony, promising not to let up any time soon.
It would be impossible to get out of here tonight,
I realized. Oddly enough I found that I wasn’t all that disappointed. The opposite, actually—it was like a weight lifted off my chest and I could breathe again.

It might be crazy, but I was staying. Just until I found the Jackals.

“Yeah. Me too,” I said.

I walked maybe fifty feet when the trees grew dense. Weaving tighter together, they muffled the sounds of the water. The birds had been singing, but were now quiet overhead. Even the breeze had deserted me. Everything went from lively to still.

I started to feel claustrophobic, when the trees opened up. I stepped into a clearing, keeping an eye out for any movement along the ground. If the Jackals were here, I would go back to the pack. If they gave into chase . . . well, luckily I was the top runner in Training.

A crosswire fence spread out before me, three rows of barbed wire strung tight across its top. Rusty, wrought iron gates divided the fence in half. Chains had been twisted through the bars so many times and in so many directions, they looked impossible to unwrap. This gate was designed to be closed. Forever.

My insides felt prickly; the sensation started in my stomach and moved outward. Kind of an odd place to put a fence, wasn’t it? Who would’ve put this up so far out, and in the middle of the forest? The wolves?

“Whoa,” I muttered, picking up on some noise. Strange. It came from under my feet. Odd scuttling sounds reverberated below the earth, but as quick as they came they were gone again.

Okay,
really
bad feeling coming on.

The breeze returned. The trees creaked and whistled. A clacking sound made me glance to the side. Yellow signs clipped along the fence swayed with the wind. Taking a cautious step forward, I honed in on the nearest one.