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and
scented the wind again. Ice scored down the back of her throat. The
frigid scream of the storm was getting closer, and she couldn’t see
more than a few feet ahead of them. Tracking would be easier on all
fours, but she didn’t dare shift. “We’re no good to him dead as
humans. But I guarantee you he’ll take a shot if one of us
shifts.”
    Hexe jerked his head in a nod. “Then stay
human.”
    He edged forward first and Steele followed.
They eased over the snow like moving shadows, the howl of the wind
masking any noise they made from the snow crunching under foot. It
also wiped away any footprints left behind. The only trail they had
left to follow was the scraps of scent tossed around on the wind,
and the knowledge that the poacher was probably heading straight
for Hexe’s home.
    Steele lost track of how long they walked,
one slow step after the other, stalking through the darkness side
by side. The cabin had to be close, but she couldn’t see it. “Any
idea how far we got?”
    The words came out a whisper, but Hexe heard
them, and said just as softly back, “No. But we’re close.”
     
    They inched on, the muscles in her thighs
starting to ache from her low, crouching walk, when a scream sliced
through the roar of the storm. Panicked, desperate. There was no
gunshot, no second cry. If Hexe hadn’t frozen too, she’d have
thought she’d heard nothing at all. A growl rumbled up through him
and Steele reached out to lay a hand against his back. Through the
thick coat she felt his muscles bunch, fighting the urge to
run.
    “If I have to stay calm, so do you,” she
whispered.
    They moved forward together just as the crack
of a gunshot split the air. It lifted the hair down her arms and
raised goose bumps over her flesh. Steele bit back a roar as the
sudden silence stretched through the forest. There was only one
reason he’d have pulled the trigger. One. And he’d get exactly what
he wanted now.
     
     

Chapter
Seven
    Hexe grabbed Steele’s coat and hauled her
flat into the snow again. She snarled up at him, but there was no
missing the pain in her eyes. The sudden flare of defeat. He shook
her coat, but Steele jerked free. “I wasn’t going to run, she’s
already dead.”
    He almost laughed. “No. We’re going to haul
ass here, Steele. We need to catch him before he finishes skinning
her, you got it?”
    She blinked at him, but Hexe waved off any
questions she might have had. “Stay low, stay quiet.”
    Hexe let her go and then leapt into a low
run. Blindly, he ran in the direction of the gunshot. Even his
inner leopard couldn’t see much in the whirlwind of snow as the
storm closed in around them. Frost chilled his lungs as he ran,
burning down his throat. He didn’t wait to see if she followed, he
knew she would. Steele would be at his side, every bit the warrior
he knew she was. He was sure of that much at least, long before
he’d gotten her to admit it.
    She’d played the cold bitch for so long he’d
wanted to hear it from her. That she didn’t want him dead.
    Hexe darted amongst the trees, his eyes
straining to see, but it was his nose that caught the coppery tang
of blood first. Then light from his house flashed into view and he
ran for it. The door lay open, revealing a splatter of blood in the
snow. Large cat prints just outside his door. Shit. Steele stumbled
up behind him and froze, pivoting in place as she too tried to find
where the poacher had disappeared. There wouldn’t have been time
for him to skin her...
    “He missed.” Her hand grabbed his arm and
squeezed. “He missed, Hexe.”
    The hope in her voice clawed at him.
    “Obviously he hit her.” He jerked a hand
towards the snow but she shook her head in the dim lighting, snow
buffeting around them. The wind howled, rattling through the
trees.
    “His shot clipped her and clipped her good,
but it didn’t kill her. She ran.” Steele grabbed his arm. “He has
to catch her. If the silver kills her and he’s not there,