Hunting Human - Amanda E. Alvarez [56]
A tear burned down the side of her cheek as she shook her head against the question.
“Who did you meet in Europe?”
Beth violently pulled her hand from his. “I can’t do this. It doesn’t matter.” She was vaguely aware of Braden up and moving on the periphery of her vision, but quickly shut him out again. It was better when she forgot he was there at all.
“It matters.” Strong hands gripped her elbows and held her in place on the edge of the bed. “Markko tracked you here. He wants something from you. We need to know what. Was Markko the one you met in Europe? Did he kill Rachel?” He was quiet for a long time, then asked in a low voice, “Did he bite you?”
“No.” Beth pulled out of his grasp.
“He’s not going to go away.” Braden’s voice, rough with something she didn’t recognize, cut through her. “We can help you.”
Beth felt the bed dip next to her, but refused to look at Braden. She shifted toward the headboard, keeping as much distance between them as possible.
“Braden’s right. If Markko’s here for you, he won’t give up. And you can’t run forever. Let us help you.”
Hedged between a wall and two men she didn’t trust, Beth turned her options over in her head as fast as she could. A part of her desperately wanted to believe that, despite everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours Braden wanted to help her. Confusion pressed heavily against her mind. Nothing had gone as she’d anticipated since she’d been shoved in the trunk of his car. They hadn’t hurt her. And she wasn’t dead.
Small blessings, right?
But Braden, and she suspected much of his family, were werewolves. Every instinct she had told her not to trust them. To fear them.
Beth struggled with what to do. She couldn’t force herself to trust them. Not completely. But she wasn’t stupid, either. Markko had brought this nightmare to her doorstep, literally. She couldn’t handle this on her own. Not anymore.
“Markko didn’t bite me.” She sucked in a breath, bracing herself for the words to come. “But he was there.”
Chapter Fourteen
Two Years Ago…
“Alright. That’s it.” Rachel slumped to the ground on a heavy sigh. “My feet refuse to carry me another inch.”
Liz backtracked to Rachel’s side, scanning the horizon, trying to determine how much daylight remained.
“I swear to God, if I never see another forest again, it’ll be too soon.”
Liz smiled and sat next to Rachel. “And here I was thinking we could trek through Yosemite next year.”
“Not on your life.” Rachel pulled her shoes off and massaged the balls of her feet. “Can we rest a while?” Rachel asked, as though dreading Liz’s answer.
“Yeah. A breather sounds good.” As far as Liz could tell, they’d covered a lot of ground. They’d taken Allison’s advice and followed the water downstream, walking in the clear space between the tree line and the water’s edge. A few hours back, the stream had widened, picked up momentum and turned into a narrow river.
As the water had continued to widen, the embankment grew steeper and more slippery with every twist and turn, forcing them to slow down and pay attention to their footing. Rachel had been losing steam for nearly twenty minutes when she’d slipped and gone down hard, catching her weight on her wrist. Tears instead of cursing followed. Liz had carefully examined her wrist, lightly sprained at the most, then tried to haul her to her feet. Rachel had refused.
The shouting match that followed was the worst Liz could ever remember having with Rachel. She’d tried the tactic Allison had suggested and brutally detailed what was hunting them and what waited for them if they stopped moving. Resignation had settled heavily over the fear on Rachel’s face. When Liz threatened to leave her, Rachel had closed her eyes and called her a liar.
Walking away was one of the hardest things Liz had ever done. Second only to the words she’d spoken before she left.
“I love you. And I’d do just about anything for you. But I will not… I will NOT sit here and wait for them to catch up with us. It’s not in me, to sit here, waiting for death. I won’t die a sniveling