Page 137 of Stolen (Otherworld 2)


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He gave a mock growl and nipped my hand, then prodded me to my feet. I stood and we headed for the oak tree.

By the time I emerged from the forest, Winsloe had climbed partway down, staying a dozen feet from the ground, obviously thinking Clay had run away but not willing to descend completely until help arrived. When he heard me coming, he called, "Over here!"--then saw who it was. Disappointment flitted across his face. Not fear, just disappointment. Seeing Clay at my side, he climbed to the next branch.

"How long you planning to stay up there?" I called.

"As long as it takes." His eyes flickered over my naked body, and he managed a humorless smile. "Hoping to entice me down?"

"If I could stomach the thought of seducing you, I'd have done it while I was trapped in that cell."

His mouth tightened. Amazing. Even treed by two werewolves, Winsloe was more concerned about his pride than his life. I walked to the base of the tree and grabbed the bottom branch. He only watched me. It was still a game to him.

I swung onto the first branch. He climbed higher. I went to the next branch. So did he. Beneath us, Clay circled the tree. Ten more feet up and Winsloe's stockinged foot slipped. The branch he held gave way and he grabbed the tree trunk for support. After steadying himself, he squinted at the remaining branches above.

"They won't hold your weight," I said. "But don't take my word for it."

He didn't. He grabbed a branch and tugged. It snapped in his hand. He hesitated, then lowered himself onto the branch under his feet until he was sitting on it. When I got close enough, he kicked at me. As if I wouldn't see that one coming. I ducked easily and seized his injured leg. He gasped and jerked back, nearly tumbling off the branch.

"You want to fight me, go ahead," I said as I climbed onto his branch. "But you'd better have a spare gun under that jacket if you hope to win."

He said nothing. I teetered on the branch, getting my balance. Winsloe sat still, as if resigned to this. Then his hand shot out and smacked my ankle. I grabbed the limb overhead and steadied myself. The branch beneath us swayed.

"Don't be doing that," I said. "If this branch breaks, I can jump to the ground. Even if you survive the fall, you won't survive what's waiting at the bottom."

Winsloe muttered something and made a move to settle, then slammed both hands into my calf. I grabbed his collar, hauled him to his feet, and smashed him backward into the tree trunk.

"You want to fight?" I said. "Okay, let's fight."

He didn't move. His gaze flicked down. I whacked his head against the tree.

"Thinking of knocking my legs out from under me? Don't bother. You do and we both fall. Now, in case you hadn't noticed, I'm not trying to kill you. In fact, I haven't laid an unprovoked hand on you, have I?"

A glimmer of cunning lit his eyes. "You want to negotiate."

"Maybe."

"Fifteen million."

"I thought we were up to twenty-five?"

"Twenty then."

"Oh, so that's how it works? Once I show some interest, the offer goes down. A true businessman."

His mouth tightened. "Fine. Twenty-five."

I pretended to consider it. "You know, Clay was right. We don't need money. We have enough. Wanting more would be greedy."

"Thirty million."

I grabbed him by the shirt collar and swung him over the side. His feet scrambled for purchase, finding only air. I shifted sideways and rested my back against the tree. When he clawed at me, I thrust him out to arm's length.

"Offer me more," I said.

His mouth tightened. I let him slip to my fingertips. He flailed, all four limbs jerking, convulsing, lashing out. I started to release my grip.

"Fifty million," he said.

"Not enough." I let him slip another half-inch. "Offer me every thing."

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