Tsunami Blue by Gayle Ann Williams

day.
    Somewhere down there, hidden among rocks and brush, was my kayak, handmade of deer hide and cedar. The little boat was sleek and fast, but only on seas made of glass. Today, with swells and wind, the boat would trudge and plow like molasses in winter. Capsizing was also a distinct possibility. And that was plan B. Great, Blue. Just great.
    I brought my hand up to shield my eyes, forgetting for a moment that my wrist was cuffed to Gabriel’s. His large hand blocked my view, and in frustration I socked him hard with my free fist in the shoulder. Gabriel raised a brow in question.
    “Don’t give me that look, tough guy. I’m cuffed to you, for fuck’s sake. Cuffed!”
    “That mouth, Blue.” Gabriel frowned as he looked over my head, listening to a series of barks and howls. I had the distinct impression that he’d just dismissed me, bad language and all. And I hated being ignored.
    “So what about my mouth, Gabriel? It’s gonna what, get me in trouble? Like being cuffed to a Runner and being hunted by an army of them and their hounds from hell isn’t trouble enough? What are you gonna do, tough guy? Wash my mouth out with soap?” My voice rose as a trace of hysteria joined my normal pissed-off tone. It wasn’t my fault. I was finding out that Gabriel Black just brought out the best in me.
    My world turned upside down.
    No, really. Upside down.
    Gabriel had swung me up and over his head like a proverbial sack of potatoes in a move that I wouldn’t have thought possible with cuffs on. Great. He was a contortionist too. I hung over his shoulder and he charged down the slope of the mountain with a speed and agility I’d not thought possible for a man his size. I had no choice but to hold on. It was a long drop from his six-foot-two frame, and I sure didn’t want him to go all caveman on me and drag me behind him.
    “I can run on my own,” I shouted at him. “Just do the right thing and take the cuffs off.” He ignored me, of course, and I guess I had to agree: It was damn hard to hold a conversation at this angle, much less make demands.
    The ground blurred and twisted beneath me, a blend of ferns and sand and rocks. I felt like an idiot, and Max obviously agreed, racing back and forth to check on me as if seeing me hanging upside down were a novelty of some kind.
    A siren blared. Closer. Longer. Max paused as the baying of dogs sliced through the air. Max might try to defend us, but he’d be way outnumbered, and the thought of those mutant mutts ripping and tearing into my dog scared me. I started to encourage Gabriel.
    “Run faster, you moron,” I yelled, beating my free fist on his back to get his attention. “They’re gaining on us.” Okay. So I wasn’t so good at encouragement. Call it tough love. Still, maybe it was my imagination, but he did seem to pick up the pace.
    Gabriel stumbled down the last stretch into pebbles and sand. The beach.
    He swung me down beside him, and we both turned to stare at the stream of men and dogs breaking through the clearing above us. Who knew evil could be so fast?
    “This way,” Gabriel said as he pulled me toward the water, where now I could see our destination clearly. A sleek black-hulled sailboat bobbed in the waves. With two masts, it was a ketch rig, narrow in the beam, about thirty-two feet long. The boat was as sexy and sleek as its owner.
    Sexy? Who thinks of sexy at a time like this? When had this man turned me into a pervert? Sexy, my ass. I kicked his shin.
    “Damn it, Blue.” He reached down and rubbed his leg. “Stop with the theatrics already. I’m trying to save your life.”
    “Don’t be a wuss. I just wanted to get your attention.”
    “Try asking.”
    “Next time, tough guy. Now, what’s the plan? How do we get to your little boat out there?”
    “Little?”
    What was it with guys? Call their toys little and all of a sudden you had an injured male ego. Like I was talking about his personal equipment or something. Which, by the way,