The Awakening: Britton (Entangled Covet) (17 page)

henley hugged his chest and his flat stomach. She silenced a groan. Jeez. Didn’t the man have anything to

sleep in that wasn’t so damn tight?

When his phone gave a chirp, he walked toward it. She shoved another forkful of sauce-covered

noodles into her mouth, trying not to watch for his reaction to the missed call and failing miserably. After

he grabbed it and flicked his finger across the screen, his gaze shot to her. Her stomach somersaulted when

their eyes connected. Emotions she couldn’t identify swept across his magnetic blue irises. Then he blinked,

pressed a button, and put the phone to his ear.

“Hello, lovely lady. I see you called.”

Jealousy sparked to an all-out inferno in Val’s gut. Swallowing her food was almost impossible, but

somehow she got it down.

This was a reminder of what a man-whore Britton was. She’d needed this. If this wake-up call hadn’t

happened, there was a good chance she would’ve jumped his bones tonight. Now she was back in control.

Silver linings.
Thank you, Olivia.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just took a spill off a ladder while trying to replace some rotting wood at my place.

Pulled some muscles in my back.” There was a pause then, “Friday?”

Val zeroed in on that one word, her muscles tensing as she waited for his response.

He walked a couple of steps away and hung his head. “Of course I’m looking forward to it. The only

problem is I’m still not very mobile yet. My back is giving me fits.” There was another long pause. “You

don’t say. That sounds very interesting.”

Val clenched her teeth. Hard. She could just imagine what Olivia was saying…offering. Most likely she

wanted to play housemaid to poor, hurt Britton in some skimpy-ass outfit.

He cleared his throat. “My place at seven sounds fantastic.” Pause. “‘Til then.”

After he ended the call, he stood with his back to Val for a few moments before he took a deep breath

and joined her at the table.

“Hot date?” She tried her damnedest to keep the bite out of her tone, but if his lifted brows were any

indication, she’d failed again. Flipping great. It perturbed her enough that she was jealous; she didn’t want

him catching on to it.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat again. “Friday. Olivia Johnson. You know her, right?”

“Yep.”

“She offered to play nurse if I wasn’t feeling up to going out. I’m not one to pass up an opportunity to

be coddled by a beautiful woman.” He winked.

Suddenly losing her appetite, she dropped her fork in her bowl and strode to the kitchen to put it in the

sink. “You do realize that tomorrow is Thursday and we’re planning an overnight. So we’ll most likely still

be up in these mountains somewhere on Friday, right?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. We could have this all wrapped up tomorrow. Never hurts to have a backup plan

just in case. Know what I mean?”

Did she ever.

Why did that comment have an ouch factor? But the pain socked her right in the chest, which irked the

crap out of her. “Whatever. We should go to bed. I have a feeling sleep won’t come easy for the next

couple of days.”

As if that was any different from the other nights she’d been cooped up with Britton in this microscopic

cabin, but it sounded like a plausible excuse to bail to the bedroom. The truth was she didn’t want to look at

him, afraid that he might see the blasted hurt his thoughtless attention to another woman had caused.

Face it. Somewhere along the line Britton Townsend had wormed his way under her skin.

And she was not at all happy about it.

…

Calling Olivia back last night and making plans with her in front of Val had been one of the hardest

things Britton had ever done. His beast had thrashed around, enraged at his insensitive actions. And guilt

had erupted inside him until he could no longer look at Val, but had to turn his back to finish the phone

conversation.

Not that she’d seemed too put out by his date. Although she’d gone off to bed last night right after the

phone call, this morning she was acting totally normal.

He studied the red backpack in front of him as he followed her up a steep hill, a little aggravated.

If anything, she’d come into the living room this morning chipper as hell. All smiles and isn’t-it-a-

glorious-day attitude. What the hell?

Using Olivia to push her away
had
been the point, but Val’s lack of response was irritating. Making his

beast edgy—making
him
edgy. He wanted to grab her and demand to know why she wasn’t jealous. Then

kiss her to prove she wasn’t immune to him, that she did have feelings for him, and that she
did
care he

was going out with another woman.

But that was just the
Drall
speaking. So he clenched his hands and fought it, knowing in a few short

days he’d be human again and all of this would be over.

And it couldn’t come soon enough. Being around her was pure fucking torture. And the torment was

increasing as the instinct to mate became fiercer, more dominant, pushing him to do something he wanted

no part of.

For the first time since he started feeling his beast again, he couldn’t wait to be human. And how fucked

up was
that
?

He dragged his gaze away from her, refocusing on what they were in these woods to do.

Last night after Val had gone to bed, he’d called Harwood and asked for scent samples from the

founders of MASK. It was somewhere to start, although the group had seen substantial growth in the last

few months. Harwood said he’d send them over once they got them…but Britton and Val wouldn’t be back

at the cabin to retrieve them for a couple of days.

His gut said MASK wasn’t behind this, anyway.

However, someone could be using MASK as a decoy, knowing it would take time for SPAC to get

concrete evidence because of the size of the group.

He halted. “Val. I just thought of something.”

When she turned around, she put her hands on her hips as she caught her breath. As she gasped in air,

her breasts heaved forward, and his gaze dropped before he remembered and yanked it away. That

insidious need to close the distance between them roared through him. He shoved his hands in his cargo

pants pockets, clenching his jaw with the effort not to act on it.

“What?” she asked.

He took a second to collect himself, then said, “What if the people behind this aren’t connected to

Samantha Mills personally, but instead to the
reason
she was convicted?”

She regarded him. “You mean, like maybe they are hiding another mutated baby?”

“Exactly.”

Sliding off her backpack, she sat down on the ground. “So they’re trying to spook the High Council into

law reform before they’re caught like Samantha was. Damn, Britton. That makes perfect sense.”

The more he thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. “It would also explain why they didn’t take

this public, to the media.” He hiked over to her, removed his own backpack, and took a seat beside her.

“It’s the perfect scenario. They would’ve seen that MASK was getting nowhere with its protests, and knew

the group would have to up the ante. Taking the issue to the public would’ve been a stupid move. By

keeping it all quiet, they are giving the High Council an opportunity to show it has evolved past its archaic

laws, and to change them.”

“Which would make a lot of people happy, not just whoever’s doing this.” She fiddled with the leaves

by her hip. “But it also means anyone could be behind the kidnapping, with no way of narrowing down the

suspect list.”

Britton dug through his pack and held out a bag of trail mix. “Eat.”

She didn’t argue as he pulled out a topo map, his portable GPS locator, and some pens.

Yesterday, he’d drawn a circle around the second cabin and its surroundings. Now he checked the

latitude and longitude on his GPS, and drew a line from the cabin to their current location. He knew they

had taken an extreme left somewhere along the path, but mapping it out showed a possible pattern.

He shifted closer to Val. “Look at this.”

Pointing to the cabin where Val had found Charlie’s blanket, he said, “This is where the first cabin is.”

He traced the line to the second cabin, then another one to where they were now. “See something?”

“It’s a corner.”

“Correct. My instinct says we’ll wind up somewhere here.” He pointed to an area. “Then they’ll lead us

here.” He used his fingers to trace the expected path.

Val jerked back. “You think they are going in a square?”

“I won’t know until we find the shift in scents. But if they go to the extreme left again, I can assume that

is exactly what they are doing, and are headed right back to the original cabin.”

“Should we just make our way back there and wait?”

“Not yet. I’m rusty with this stuff, and I could be wrong. We need to keep following the trail until we

know if they switch directions again.”

“You’re scared.”

His head shot up. “Excuse me?”

“You knew we should have followed the propane trail the first day, but you made the call to split up.

You wanted to be sure then, too. Damn, Britton. I’ve heard the stories about your abilities. And your

arrogant confidence. You would never have second-guessed your judgment four years ago. But now…

you’re scared.”

He forced a smile. “Not scared. Cautious. You’ve seen how edgy the High Council is. If I screw up, they

may decide the best place for me is Kerker. And there’s not just me to think about this time. There’s you,

too. I need to be sure the decisions I make won’t somehow come back to bite you.”

She flicked a hand. “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

He grimaced before turning back to the map and muttering, “That’s easier said than done.”

The heat of her reaction to his obvious concern practically seared his skin, and the
Drall
bubbled up

inside him. He pushed to his feet and moved a few yards away, keeping his back to her. “Finish eating and

we’ll get moving. No telling how much farther we have to walk, and we need to find the shift in direction

before nightfall.”

Nightfall
. Her in a tent…alone with him. Fuck. He raked a hand through his hair, taking deep, calming

breaths until he heard her move behind him. Under control again, he faced her. “Ready?”

She motioned for him to walk. “Lead the way.”

They spent the next two hours in silence trudging up inclines, climbing over rocks, fording streams. All

the while he was aware of her behind him. Heard every deep sigh as she caught her breath, her muttered

curses when she tripped over something, every little sound she made. They beckoned him to spin her

around. Take her in his arms. Kiss her.

Fucking
Drall
.

By the time they came across a dilapidated cabin worse off than any of the others so far, his body was

literally shaking from fighting the instinct. He approached the rickety structure, determined to keep his

focus on the job.

Trees and vines grew up around the outside of the tumbledown cabin. The door hung off its hinges.

Most of the roof was completely gone, and the walls looked as if they’d collapse if a bird dared to land on

them.

Val stopped beside him.

“Anyone around?” she asked, putting her hand on her gun.

“No. The place is clear.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a letter waiting inside.”

But there wasn’t. Nothing had been disturbed to indicate anyone had gone inside, and when they

carefully peeked in through the door, he couldn’t pick up any scent at all.

“What do you think it means?” she asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

His cell phone rang. Tugging it off his belt, he glanced at the caller ID and frowned. “It’s Councilman

Seeder.” He lifted the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Townsend? Can…hear me?”

“Barely. There’s a lot of static.” He put his finger to his other ear and walked around to check if he

could get a better signal. “I might lose you.”

“…make…quick then. The search…hold…further notice. Return to the cabin…wait for instructions.”

What the hell? “We’re hours from the cabin. Nightfall is only an hour out, it’s too dangerous to hike

back tonight.”

“Return…in the morning…do not pursue until given the go-ahead…couple of days before anything…

resolved.”

“The
deadline
is in a couple of days,” he protested.

“Imperative…you return to the cabin…received package…no longer track suspects. Do you copy?”

He sighed. “Ten-four.”

Seeder hung up.

“What was that all about?”

“
Dea
. I think the High Council is waving the white flag.”

…

Forty-five minutes later, they had set up camp. Britton had filled Val in on the phone call with Seeder,

and she’d gotten an uneasy feeling. Britton had agreed, so to be on the safe side, he had put in a call to

Harwood to make sure everything was legit. Turned out it was. The search
was
on hold for now. But the