Shadow Wolf. Jenna Kernan
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“Where are we going?”
“My place.”
She lifted her head and stared, eyes narrowing as if trying to decipher his intentions. Funny, to think of that sort of danger after all the other threats she had faced today.
“I’m not comfortable with that.”
“You don’t need to be comfortable. You need to be safe. I can make sure he doesn’t get to you.”
When she spoke, her voice seemed almost sedated, as out of focus as her gaze. “Maybe I could stay with a friend.”
“That would just put the friend in the crosshairs.”
She rubbed her arms and rocked back and forth.
“I can’t stay with you all night.”
“Lea, think for a minute. You need protection.
Nowhere else is safe.”
“I could go home.”
“To Salt River? He’ll follow.”
She slapped her hands on her thighs in frustration.
“You make him sound like an unstoppable robot or something.”
“Yeah. Exactly, but with one important difference.
I can kill him.”
Shadow Wolf
Jenna Kernan
JENNA KERNAN writes fast-paced romantic suspense, Western and paranormal romantic adventures. She has penned over two dozen novels, has received two RITA® Award nominations, and in 2010 won the Book Buyers Best Award for her debut paranormal romance. Jenna loves an adventure. Her hobbies include recreational gold-prospecting, scuba diving and gem-hunting. Follow Jenna on Twitter, @jennakernan, on Facebook or at www.jennakernan.com.
For Jim, always.
Contents
Kino Cosen wondered if this trail might be the one that would finally lead him to his father’s killer. Ten years he’d waited but he’d never been this close. Smugglers were dying, killed by the Viper. If he just had a little luck, he might finally be at the right place and at the right time.
He pulled the truck to the shoulder of the road on the lands of the Tohono O’odham Nation, which were just two miles from the Mexico border. Waves of heat undulated across the asphalt road as the June sun blazed down on the Sonoran Desert from a clear blue sky. His brother Clay opened the door of the SUV and the heat hit Kino like a furnace blast, eliminating all traces of AC in the time it took to take one single breath. He started sweating as he grabbed his rifle from the rack behind the seat. Clay took his from the opposite side.
Kino left the vehicle to investigate the solitary footprint where someone had stepped from the asphalt before returning to the impenetrable surface. This was the only visible sign of the smuggler’s passing. But farther up, he saw more tracks.
His brother slammed the passenger door shut and swore. “And this isn’t even the hot part of the year.”
“They crossed here,” said Kino, pointing to the narrow gap of open ground between two thorny bushes. His brother fingered a bent branch.
Clay, the better tracker, saw things that even Kino missed. He squatted to study the imprints upon the sandy ground.
“Carpet shoes,” he said and stood, returning his attention to the unrelenting sun. “If we were home I’d be tracking elk right now instead of men.”
“Not men. Man. Just one and these guys can lead me right to him. Then we can