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“I’m sure I’ll be safe here. It’s pretty hidden and I don’t take up much room.” Her attempt at humor fell flat, and she hurried on. “Really, it’s fine. They can’t search every piece of land.”
She was trying to convince herself as much as him, but the swamp was a huge place thick with vegetation. As long as Harold hadn’t brought Bobby Murphy and his hunting dogs along, she should be safe enough concealed in this hidden spot. The baying of an excited dog crushed that hope. Oh God, she was out of time. Despair crashed over her, but even if she couldn’t save herself, at least she could save Marsh.
“I… I’ll show myself.” And pray Harold was more interested in punishing her than killing her. “As long as you stay here and keep out of sight, I don’t think anyone will find you.”
“You wish to protect me?”
Green fire sparked in his eyes, fastened so intently on her face.
“Of course. You’ve only tried to help me. It wouldn’t be fair for you to be punished for that.”
“I stopped believing in fair a long time ago.” Something flickered in his eyes that she couldn’t read. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” She wasn’t entirely sure why, but she did. He nodded, then bent down and lifted her easily into his arms. “What are you doing? They have dogs - they can track me. And if you pick up my scent, they can track you too.”
“No, my little bird, they can’t.”
He took off at a run.
CHAPTER 4
Marsh moved rapidly through the swamp, using his extended senses to identify the intruders. One boat, no, two - the shallow, flat-bottomed skiffs used by fishermen - with two men and a dog in the first boat, four more men in the second boat.
“What are you doing?” Aurora whispered frantically. “You’re going towards them.”
“I know. You said you trusted me,” he added, partly as a reminder and partly because he liked the sound of it so much.
His fragile little human trusted him to protect her. He would not fail her.
When they reached the end of the long section of elevated land, he slipped quietly into the water. It came up to his waist and he lifted her higher against his chest to keep her as dry as possible. The once-white tank top she was wearing was ripped and torn from her flight into the swamp and as he moved her, it rode up, revealing the soft pale skin of her stomach. His fingers itched to trace the narrow line of exposed flesh, to explore the silky texture pressed against his chest, but he pushed the urge away and focused on the task at hand.
He climbed out of the water and onto a small hummock, barely large enough for a few overgrown bushes. He placed her carefully on the ground behind the largest of the bushes, making sure she could use one of the branches to help support her, then pressed a warning finger to her soft little lips. She nodded and he forced himself to remove his hand before working his way into the bushes at the edge of the hummock. He automatically coaxed the branches higher and thickened the leaves to conceal his position, and heard her give the slightest gasp.
He winced, but there was nothing he could do about it now and he peered out at the wider channel as the first boat came into sight. Good. Now to separate them. Whispering the words his mother had taught him, he called on the humidity so prevalent in the air, bringing it together and sending it swirling across the water as an ever increasing mist.
The men in the boats swore as their visibility decreased and they lost sight of each other. Even the spotlights that had been sweeping the banks barely penetrated the mist.
“I think we’re gonna have to go back, Harold. Go after that girl of yours in the morning.”
“Goddammit, Bobby. Since when are you scared of a little mist? I thought that damned dog of yours caught the scent.”
“I did too, but he’s gone quiet now. Musta been a false alarm.”
Marsh smiled as he added a few more herbs to the mist. The dog wouldn’t be able to track them now. Unfortunately, it also obscured some of his ability to pick up scents as well and he had to rely more on his other senses.
The second boat caught up with the first, knocking against it hard enough for the clash of metal to echo across the water, accompanied by more swearing.
“I don’t like this,” a man said nervously, a young man from the sound of his voice. “You know nothing good ever comes from being out in the swamp at night.”
“Shut up, Dougie. You know those rumors only make it easier for us. Monster, my ass. There’s nothing out here but gators and snakes.”
“I don’t like them either,” Dougie protested, and there was the distinct sound of a slap.
“Your pa told you to shut up, boy.” This man was older, harder. “But I reckon Bobby’s right, Harold. She could be two feet away and we wouldn’t see her in this fog. You shoulda let me have her. She wouldn’t make the mistake of running from me.”
A cold little hand clutched his arm. Aurora had hobbled over to him and was listening, her face even paler than before.
“It’s your damn fault she ran, Elmer. She saw the mess you made of that dealer.”
