lolling. Every so often, its nose dropped to the ground as it caught another scent, and changed direction, darting in a way that made Chogan almost lose control of the bike. He trusted his wolf’s instincts; it would lead him back to the exact place he’d left Blake. Though he knew he’d be able to find the cabin again easily enough, he’d run from the soldiers for so long, exhausted and in fear and pain, he could easily mistake one clump of bushes or gathering of trees for another, so missing the place where he’d abandoned Blake’s body.
Besides, he wanted to stay as far away from the cabin as possible. He had no idea if the soldiers were still there, if they’d continued to use the cabin—now fully fenced, he guessed—to house more shifters, or if they’d moved on to a different area. But either way, he didn’t want the attention of more armed men.
They were getting close now, having to negotiate muddy trails, sometimes heading off the trail to get around fallen tree trunks. His ears met the sound of water trickling, and the bike broke through some trees. Chogan found himself at the edge of the gorge he’d run through when he was being chased. Moonlight lit the water, casting shimmering reflections from the ripples.
They were close.
His heart picked up its pace, his breath growing shallower. He gripped his hands into fists. He didn’t want to be here. When he’d been running before, with everyone chasing him and his cousin dying on his back, he’d sworn to himself that he’d never return to this part of the forest. And yet here he was, back again.
He wouldn’t let the panic overtake him. He tried not to imagine the sound of shots, of numerous feet pounding through the undergrowth, chasing him down like a pack of dogs hunting a fox.
His heart beat harder in his chest, and he bit down on his lower lip, tasting blood. He didn’t want to see Blake’s body; the guilt was overwhelming. What if animals had gotten to him? He hoped Blake’s wolf had hung around long enough to scare any scavengers off.
They reached the spot. Even in the dark, Chogan recognized it. How could he not? The indent in the bottom of the tree trunk where some animal had hollowed it out. The clump of bushes. The small clearing with the rocks. But there was no sign of Blake’s body.
He stopped the bike, and both he and Nadie climbed off. They left the headlights of the bike on, lighting the area, though with their shifter eyesight they were able to see in the dark better than any human.
Chogan walked around, his hand knotted in his hair. “What the hell?”
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” asked Peter. “This is a big area.”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
He dropped to his knees in the spot where he’d last seen his cousin’s body. He touched the ground. “Look. The grass and weeds are crushed here, flattened where his body was.” He lifted his head to look at Peter. “Someone has already moved his body.”
Peter frowned. “Why would someone do that?”
“I don’t know.” Thoughts of autopsies ran through his head, but he couldn’t even bring himself to give voice to the terrible images. Quickly, he checked the ground to see if any of the surrounding area had drag marks or other areas of crushed undergrowth where an animal, or pack of animals, may have dragged Blake’s body. But there was none. Blake had been a big man. Nothing could have dragged him off without making at least a bit of a mess of the foliage.
Unless he’d been carried.
He thought back to the soldiers. Would they really have bothered carrying Blake’s body all that way back? What reason would they have for doing so? Maybe they’d thought they could learn more about shifter biology from his body, but it wasn’t as if they didn’t have access to hundreds of shifters now. Shifters were out in force. He doubted Blake was the only one they had access too. It didn’t make sense.
“Why would anyone
Besides, he wanted to stay as far away from the cabin as possible. He had no idea if the soldiers were still there, if they’d continued to use the cabin—now fully fenced, he guessed—to house more shifters, or if they’d moved on to a different area. But either way, he didn’t want the attention of more armed men.
They were getting close now, having to negotiate muddy trails, sometimes heading off the trail to get around fallen tree trunks. His ears met the sound of water trickling, and the bike broke through some trees. Chogan found himself at the edge of the gorge he’d run through when he was being chased. Moonlight lit the water, casting shimmering reflections from the ripples.
They were close.
His heart picked up its pace, his breath growing shallower. He gripped his hands into fists. He didn’t want to be here. When he’d been running before, with everyone chasing him and his cousin dying on his back, he’d sworn to himself that he’d never return to this part of the forest. And yet here he was, back again.
He wouldn’t let the panic overtake him. He tried not to imagine the sound of shots, of numerous feet pounding through the undergrowth, chasing him down like a pack of dogs hunting a fox.
His heart beat harder in his chest, and he bit down on his lower lip, tasting blood. He didn’t want to see Blake’s body; the guilt was overwhelming. What if animals had gotten to him? He hoped Blake’s wolf had hung around long enough to scare any scavengers off.
They reached the spot. Even in the dark, Chogan recognized it. How could he not? The indent in the bottom of the tree trunk where some animal had hollowed it out. The clump of bushes. The small clearing with the rocks. But there was no sign of Blake’s body.
He stopped the bike, and both he and Nadie climbed off. They left the headlights of the bike on, lighting the area, though with their shifter eyesight they were able to see in the dark better than any human.
Chogan walked around, his hand knotted in his hair. “What the hell?”
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” asked Peter. “This is a big area.”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
He dropped to his knees in the spot where he’d last seen his cousin’s body. He touched the ground. “Look. The grass and weeds are crushed here, flattened where his body was.” He lifted his head to look at Peter. “Someone has already moved his body.”
Peter frowned. “Why would someone do that?”
“I don’t know.” Thoughts of autopsies ran through his head, but he couldn’t even bring himself to give voice to the terrible images. Quickly, he checked the ground to see if any of the surrounding area had drag marks or other areas of crushed undergrowth where an animal, or pack of animals, may have dragged Blake’s body. But there was none. Blake had been a big man. Nothing could have dragged him off without making at least a bit of a mess of the foliage.
Unless he’d been carried.
He thought back to the soldiers. Would they really have bothered carrying Blake’s body all that way back? What reason would they have for doing so? Maybe they’d thought they could learn more about shifter biology from his body, but it wasn’t as if they didn’t have access to hundreds of shifters now. Shifters were out in force. He doubted Blake was the only one they had access too. It didn’t make sense.
“Why would anyone
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