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“Seems like it.”
“Thatwasa wolf, right? Not a husky? Not a sled dog?”
“That was pure gray wolf.”
I ease back onto my heels as I holster my gun. “I thought this place was going to be less weird than Rockton.”
“It’s the Yukon. It’s always going to be weird.”
“All right. Well—” I stop short, seeing the wrapped body and then wheeling in the direction the wolf ran. “Shit! We heard those bells over here earlier. That cannot be a coincidence.”
“Whoever left the wolf also left the body.”
I stare into the forest. The bells have faded into silence.
“We should go after whoever that was then,” Dalton says. “While the trail’s fresh.”
I glance down at the body. “I hate to leave him here but—”
I blink. Then I scramble over to crouch beside the body. I stare at him a moment, unsure of what I saw. When I see it again, I lay my fingers on the side of his neck.
“He’s breathing,” I say. I look up at Dalton. “He’s still alive.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
We aren’t about to chase a person through the forest when our “dead body” is alive—barely alive. His breathing is shallow, and when I try to unwrap the tightly wound deerskin, I see blood. I quickly refasten it. As I do, Dalton crouches and fingers braided strips of leather wrapped around the person that we presume is Bruno. Then he walks a few steps into the forest, bends, and examines the ground.
“Whoever left him here dragged him,” he says. “That’s what the straps are for.”
“So the question is whether we drag him into town or examine him on-site,” I say. “At least Pierre was an EMT. He should be able to tell us whether we can move him or not.”
“Any preliminary assessment?” Dalton says.
“Besides the fact that I’m trying to stay calm while inwardly freaking out that if we wait for Pierre, Bruno might not live that long?” I glance up at Dalton. “I need you to leave me here, with Storm, while you run to town.”
Dalton’s gaze travels over the dark woods, and I’m about to say something, but then he nods.
“I don’t like it, but I’ll be quick,” he says. “Just…”
“Be careful because it could be someone trying to separate us again?”
He nods and then bends to lay the flashlight at my side and kiss the top of my head. Two seconds later, he’s loping through the shadows.
I turn to Storm. “Watch,” I say, motioning around us. She walks over to me, turns, and—with her back to me—keeps an eye on the forest.
I check Bruno’s breathing. Still shallow, but steady. I press my fingers to his neck. Heat throbs from him. The heat of feverish skin against my night-cold fingers. My touch doesn’t make him flinch, though. I lay a cold hand on his forehead. He still doesn’t move.
Definitely fevered. His skin is clammy, his hair plastered down by dried sweat.
“Bruno?” I say. Then I try a little louder, but if he didn’t react to my cold touch, he’s too deeply unconscious to react to a voice.
I sit back on my haunches to look at him. My fingers itch to undo those bindings, but I can’t until Dalton and Pierre arrive.
When Storm growls, I glance over sharply, but she’s only standing there, and while her body is held alert, it’s not in danger pose, as it had been with the wolf. She growls and snaps, and brush crackles as some smaller predator slips away into the night.
I stare out into the forest. It’s pitch-black now under a tree canopy thick enough to block out the moonlight. Another sound, a scampering rustle. Storm tracks it, but doesn’t growl. I keep looking and listening. Minutes pass in silence. Then comes a sound I’m waiting for—a sharp birdcall from my left. Dalton telling me he’s on his way and not to be alarmed by the sound of their approach.
I move back to Bruno. After one last, uneasy look around, I trust Storm to detect trouble long before I do, and I start unfastening the hides. As I do, I make a mental note of the quality. That’s not a distraction—it will be important in figuring out where they might have come from. The work is professional-quality tanning. Dalton is good; this is better. There are no embellishments. No embroidery or beads or anything remotely fancy. Just solid workmanship. And yet the owner had no concern about getting these bloodied and abandoning them.
