Wolfen (27 page)

 
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It was impossible once her shock finally wore off for Danika to dismiss the doubts that nagged at her. Dakota's brusque dismissal might have been because of any number of things, some she was sure must be legitimate, but she couldn't convince herself of that when he didn't come back. If he had, she would've been inclined to accept almost any excuse he wanted to make up, but he didn't.

 
It occurred to her that something might have happened to him. She tried to convince herself that it wasn't likely, but her certainty that she'd seen him just before the two wolves had torn into each other prevented any sort of comfort. It also hyped her imagination until she began to envision him lying wounded and bleeding in the woods. Without horrible visions driving her, she wasn't certain she could've nerved herself to go into the woods alone, even though it was still daylight.

 
Wolves weren't generally very active during the day, which was why she usually went out to watch at night, but she'd just seen two fighting right in the camp not an hour earlier. She didn't know which unnerved her most, the fact that the wolves were active and prowling during the day, or the fact that it hadn't bothered them to enter a fishing camp in broad daylight.

 
One wolf bold enough to do something like that was unnerving enough, but could be put down to a number of factors. Two was just one too many. It pointed to a dangerous disregard for the possibility of encountering humans—which meant they might not go out of their way to avoid her as wild animals generally did.

 
Did it also point to an escalation in the pack in general toward a dangerous shift in their hunting? She was afraid it might, but she certainly couldn't sound an alarm based on the one incident.

 
After checking to make sure the tranq pistol was fully loaded, she shoved it into her waistband, took another handful of darts and pushed them into her pocket and left her bag. If she encountered the wolves, she didn't want to be loaded down with anything that might slow her down even a little.

 
She searched for Dakota for over an hour before it occurred to her that if he actually was hurt and unable to get back to the camp on his own steam, she needed help. It was getting late. It would be dark in a few hours and that would make it harder to rescue him if he was hurt.

 
She received her second nasty shock of the day when she returned to camp to get Dakota's friends to help search for him. Jared, Xavier, Con, Balin—and Dakota!—were all lounged on the porch of their cabin, swilling beer while Con and Jared burned steaks on the rusted out grill they'd found somewhere.

 
The urge to kill swarmed over her. She came to a halt, plunking her hands on her hips. Dakota—the bastard!—noticed her first and had the unmitigated gall to grin lazily at her. She leveled a laser beam death ray at him through narrowed eyes and stalked to her cabin, slamming the door behind her.

 
Dakota's jaw went slack at the pointed snub. Con chuckled. “Problems?"

 
"Shut the fuck up, Con!” Dakota snarled.

 
Balin examined his fingernails. “Something you did, I wonder?"

 
Dakota glared at him. Setting his beer down, he strode purposefully toward Danika's cabin.

 
"He's got balls. I'll give him that,” Jared muttered. “I wouldn't be tangling with that she cat if I'd pissed her off like that."

 
Xavier nodded. “Better to let them cool off."

 
"Just shows you don't know women,” Con drawled. “She wants to get it off her chest. Otherwise, she'll brood, and that's never a good thing. Next thing you know your clothes are on the sidewalk, covered with gasoline, and she's holding a match."

 
Balin sent him an amused glance. “Many of your relationships end that way?"

 
Con glared at him, but grinned after a moment and shrugged. “Only one. I took my clothes with me after that—or abandoned them as a lost cause."

 
Balin nodded. “Actually, it works better not to leave anything to start with. Then you don't have to go back
or
collect your belongings from the sidewalk."

 
"What works best,” Xavier countered, “is to only take things you don't care about and then act like you're all tore up when they break them, or pissed off. Then they get to thinking it over and feel guilty and you get a pity fuck before you have to run for it."

 
Balin and Con both eyed him in fascination.

 
Dakota made it all the way up the stairs to Danika's cabin and across the porch to her door before it hit him and he came to a screeching halt. He'd dumped Danika off his lap, literally, when he'd torn off after the rogue. He'd worked up a convincing tale about hearing someone tinkering with his bike, but he hadn't actually gotten around to delivering it. The others had returned by the time he'd finished bathing the blood off and he'd gotten so wrapped up in the argument he'd clean forgotten.

 
He wavered for several moments with his fist in the air, trying to decide if it would be better to try to explain now or give her a little time to cool down. She might still go for the tale about the thief and his bike, but he was excruciatingly aware that that tale didn't cover the time lapse.

 
She snatched the door open before he could retreat.

 
He tried using the dimples since that generally worked pretty well, ignoring the scowl on her face and her folded arms. “Hey, baby—Sorry about what happened earlier...."

 
She unfolded her arms and stabbed him in the chest with her index finger. “I just spent over an hour searching for your body in the woods!” she snarled.

 
A jolt went through him. “What?"

 
"I saw...."

 
Dakota clamped a hand over her mouth and hustled her inside the cabin, slamming the door behind them. She shoved his hand away. “I saw you. I saw the wolves fighting. I thought something horrible had happened to you!"

 
He frowned at her, trying to sort through the rapid fire accusations. One thing seemed clear, though, she hadn't seen what he'd been afraid she had. Hooking a hand behind her neck, he dragged her close. She tensed, tried to pull away, but he trapped her with his arms. “I'm sorry."

 
She didn't look particularly mollified, but, thankfully, it occurred to him before he opened his mouth that she'd said she had seen him near the wolves. The lie he'd come up with wasn't going to work. He felt a little lightheaded when he realized how close he'd come to disaster. “I heard something and went to investigate. Turned out it was that wolf you told us about and I chased him off."

 
He knew from the look in her eyes that she'd seen more than she'd admitted.

 
"It scared me,” she admitted finally. “The wolves ... they're acting strange, Dakota."

 
He tightened his arms around her, but he couldn't think of anything to tell her that was likely to allay her fears. “Nothing is going to happen to you,” he said after a moment. “I'm not going to let it."

 
"I wasn't worried about me,” she said, her voice muffled by his shirt, her warm breath making his skin prickle. “Well—not until I went to look for you and got worried about the wolves. I thought something had happened to you when you didn't come back."

 
"I'm an ass. I admit it. I got tied up and.... “
No! Don't tell her you forgot, you fucking dumbass! That'll just piss her off all over again.

 
"And it didn't occur to you that I'd scare myself by thinking something terrible had happened when it was nothing?"

 
He pushed her chin up and studied her face a little doubtfully. “Will it make you feel better if I let you kick my ass?” he asked, mock serious.

 
Her lips quivered faintly, though she repressed the urge to smile. “Maybe."

 
He stroked a thumb along her lower lip, but resisted the urge to kiss her. If he got started he was going to be in the middle something he didn't want to be interrupted at when the others decided to break up his party. “We're grilling steak for supper. There's plenty to go around—and plenty of beer. Would you like to join us?"

 
She smiled faintly but shook her head. “I'm sure you guys would be more comfortable without me underfoot."

 
"If things start getting wild, you can always dash back to your cabin, but we don't usually get drunk.” In fact never. They metabolized the alcohol too fast to get more than a buzz, whatever they drank. It occurred to him, forcefully, that that wouldn't be the case with Danika, and it would probably be the best way to ensure that she stayed put once she went back to her cabin. In fact, if they knew it wasn't likely she'd be up wandering through the woods, they needn't go far at all. They could stay close enough to ensure that none of the rogues tried anything while they were otherwise occupied.

 
He coaxed her out despite her protests, settling an arm around her waist as much for the enjoyment of holding her close as to give her a sense of protection since he could tell she was uneasy about being with the group. Con and Balin both scowled at him. He grinned back at them provokingly, walked Danika over to oversee the cooking and headed for a beer.

 
"Feeling pretty smug, aren't you?” Con muttered when he stopped near them to pull a beer out of the cooler.

 
Dakota grinned at him, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. “Not particularly. On the other hand, it occurred to me that I'd feel better about going if I knew Danika was in her bed asleep and not creeping through the woods with that fucking pistol of hers."

 
Con slid an assessing look in her direction. “There is that. Think we can ply her with enough to sedate her for the night?"

 
Dakota shrugged. “It's worth a try."

 
She wrinkled her nose when he handed her the bottle. “I don't really like beer."

 
"It's not so bad when it's ice cold,” Xavier said. “Still tastes like panther piss, but ice cold panther piss."

 
Danika chuckled. “Now I'm really tempted!"

 
"It's ain't so bad after you've downed half the bottle,” Jared agreed.

 
Danika smiled at him, but wrinkled her brow thoughtfully. “You're southern. I can't quite place the accent, though."

 
He held his bottle out in a salute. She obligingly bumped her bottle against his, took a deep breath, and turned it up for a large swallow. She made a face when it went down, shuddering. Jared, Dakota, and Xavier were all grinning at her when she unscrewed her face and blinked at them.

 
"Good huh?"

 
Danika shuddered again. “Awful!"

 
"Naw'lins,” Jared drawled. “Originally, anyway."

 
"Ah! I knew I detected a southern drawl! It's always nice to hear one—especially when I'm so far from home."

 
"Where are you from?"

 
She batted her eyelashes at him and deliberately thickened her own accent. “Why, Georgia, sugar! Cain't you tell?"

 
Dakota's gaze wandered over her appreciatively. “A peach. Are all the peaches as sweet as you?"

 
She chuckled at his attempt at flirting. “Hopefully sweeter,” she said wryly. “Or we'll have a hell of a time selling the next crop. Where are you from?"

 
His eyes crinkled with amusement. “I think I'm going to let you guess."

 
She took another sip of the beer, shuddering all over again. “How much did you say I had to drink before it started tasting good?” she asked, eyeing the level of liquid in the bottle doubtfully.