Hunting Moon (Decorah Security Series, Book #11): A Paranormal Romantic Suspense Novel by REBECCA YORK Page B
Authors: REBECCA YORK
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was it better to stay as he was before he got there?
He stepped back into the room where he’d hidden and crossed to the window. When he looked out, he saw that it had the same view as Tory’s. From here there was no good way down, but to his right, he saw the roof of the back porch where the kitchen door was located. From there, he could lower himself to the ground.
He was cautious as he stepped into the hall, then proceeded in the direction of the next room. Once inside, he closed the door behind him and crossed to the balcony, then quietly opened the window and scanned the grounds for signs of movement. This would be when he most visible if a passing guard happened to look up. Brand waited to be sure nobody had spotted him before easing the window up and stepping over the sill, coming down on the flat roof but staying low.
Again he listened and swept his gaze over the grounds around the house before crossing the porch roof and climbing over the edge, stretching out his arms to lessen the distance he would have to drop.
He hit the ground, stayed on his feet, and dashed to the side of the house where there were no doors. Pressed against the wood siding between two windows, he looked and listened for several moments. When he was sure he was alone, he began to unbutton his borrowed shirt. Next he pulled off his pants and balled up the clothing. Naked in the cooling spring air, he began to say the chant that would turn him into his more primitive persona. It was painful to keep changing form so often, but he saw no other alternative. It was one thing for a wolf or a big dog to be seen inside the fence. It was quite another for a strange man to get caught in here.
And it was the right choice to have made. Almost as soon as Brand had transformed, one of the guards came around the side of the house and stopped short when he saw the animal.
“What the hell?”
In one smooth motion, the man reached for the gun he carried in a holster at his side, unsnapping the shield and drawing the weapon. But Brand was already leaping forward, knocking the gun out of his hand and slamming the guard to the ground. Trying not to cause too much damage, he chomped down on the guy’s gun hand. The man screamed, and Brand silently cursed. Knowing he had very little time now, he abandoned the pile of clothing he’d discarded and pelted for the fence.
He could hear loud voices behind him as he hightailed it toward safety.
“Patrick? What happened?” one of them asked.
“A wolf or a big dog attacked me.”
“Jesus. Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“How did it get in here?”
The man answered with an angry retort. “Who the hell knows?”
At the barrier, Brand scraped away the dirt he had kicked into place, then squeezed under the chain links, tearing the skin of his back as he forced himself through.
The guys must have stopped arguing about what had happened, because a shot hit the ground behind him as he sprinted for the woods. Behind him, lights snapped on, and a siren began to wail.
More shots followed him, but he was in the trees now, and he didn’t think the men were coming through the gate to chase an animal—unless it had killed someone, which he’d been careful not to do. Still, he was remaking his plans as he put distance between himself and the compound.
An animal had gotten in. The guards would plug up the hole, and they’d be on the alert for intruders, which meant he’d need a wire cutter. And he’d have to proceed with extra caution when he came back tomorrow night.
Would they move Tory? The question made his throat clench. He’d counted on knowing where she was.
For a split second, he thought about contacting Decorah Security and asking for help. Then he thought about Tory’s situation. He’d heard the men saying she was expendable. Would Dr. Son of a Bitch kill her if he thought she was going to be captured?
That danger meant stealth was Brand’s best bet now. After he got her out of there, he could
He stepped back into the room where he’d hidden and crossed to the window. When he looked out, he saw that it had the same view as Tory’s. From here there was no good way down, but to his right, he saw the roof of the back porch where the kitchen door was located. From there, he could lower himself to the ground.
He was cautious as he stepped into the hall, then proceeded in the direction of the next room. Once inside, he closed the door behind him and crossed to the balcony, then quietly opened the window and scanned the grounds for signs of movement. This would be when he most visible if a passing guard happened to look up. Brand waited to be sure nobody had spotted him before easing the window up and stepping over the sill, coming down on the flat roof but staying low.
Again he listened and swept his gaze over the grounds around the house before crossing the porch roof and climbing over the edge, stretching out his arms to lessen the distance he would have to drop.
He hit the ground, stayed on his feet, and dashed to the side of the house where there were no doors. Pressed against the wood siding between two windows, he looked and listened for several moments. When he was sure he was alone, he began to unbutton his borrowed shirt. Next he pulled off his pants and balled up the clothing. Naked in the cooling spring air, he began to say the chant that would turn him into his more primitive persona. It was painful to keep changing form so often, but he saw no other alternative. It was one thing for a wolf or a big dog to be seen inside the fence. It was quite another for a strange man to get caught in here.
And it was the right choice to have made. Almost as soon as Brand had transformed, one of the guards came around the side of the house and stopped short when he saw the animal.
“What the hell?”
In one smooth motion, the man reached for the gun he carried in a holster at his side, unsnapping the shield and drawing the weapon. But Brand was already leaping forward, knocking the gun out of his hand and slamming the guard to the ground. Trying not to cause too much damage, he chomped down on the guy’s gun hand. The man screamed, and Brand silently cursed. Knowing he had very little time now, he abandoned the pile of clothing he’d discarded and pelted for the fence.
He could hear loud voices behind him as he hightailed it toward safety.
“Patrick? What happened?” one of them asked.
“A wolf or a big dog attacked me.”
“Jesus. Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“How did it get in here?”
The man answered with an angry retort. “Who the hell knows?”
At the barrier, Brand scraped away the dirt he had kicked into place, then squeezed under the chain links, tearing the skin of his back as he forced himself through.
The guys must have stopped arguing about what had happened, because a shot hit the ground behind him as he sprinted for the woods. Behind him, lights snapped on, and a siren began to wail.
More shots followed him, but he was in the trees now, and he didn’t think the men were coming through the gate to chase an animal—unless it had killed someone, which he’d been careful not to do. Still, he was remaking his plans as he put distance between himself and the compound.
An animal had gotten in. The guards would plug up the hole, and they’d be on the alert for intruders, which meant he’d need a wire cutter. And he’d have to proceed with extra caution when he came back tomorrow night.
Would they move Tory? The question made his throat clench. He’d counted on knowing where she was.
For a split second, he thought about contacting Decorah Security and asking for help. Then he thought about Tory’s situation. He’d heard the men saying she was expendable. Would Dr. Son of a Bitch kill her if he thought she was going to be captured?
That danger meant stealth was Brand’s best bet now. After he got her out of there, he could
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