Lost and Found (A Werewolf Wars Novel Book 4) (3 page)

“If Preston and Rick were still alive, maybe I’d think that way, too. But they’re not. The Gulf packs abducted me, Vincent. You didn’t hear the things your father’s men were saying about Em and me. If Daniel hadn’t been there—” her voice broke and she looked away.

Emmett McKinley’s men had been horrendous towards them. She shivered as she remembered their predatory eyes and lewd comments.

Vincent turned the rabbit over the fire and then got up, coming to sit next to her. He placed his hand over hers. “I’m sorry that happened to you. There are no excuses for what my dad or his men did or said. My father’s men could be pretty ruthless and I’m truly sorry that you had to experience that.”

Sarah shook her head as she stared into the tiny flames. A part of her wondered how a man so evil could have such compassionate and good children. It had to have been Claire’s doing. Devon, Daniel, Emily, and Vincent were so different than the man who raised them.

“So, how do you like your rabbit? Medium? Well-done? Rare?” Vincent turned the meat again, keeping it close to the fire. “I’d make you a fine pot of rabbit stew, but I didn’t have time to get to the store. Sorry. I’d be happy to throw in some leaves. I hear they taste like spinach,” he grinned.

Sarah’s lip quirked up before she could stop it. “Medium sounds good.”

“Good! I can’t stand char-broiled food.”

“Me either.” She scrunched her face up in disgust. She couldn’t stand burnt food.

Sarah scooted closer to the tiny fire, keeping an eye on the food and letting the flames warm her. “Do you think Lark and Devon followed through with the ceremony?” she wondered aloud.

Vincent shrugged. “I was supposed to be the best man.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, not really in the mood for his antics. “There aren’t best men in mating ceremonies.”

“Well, regardless, I hope they followed through. They love each other and I want them to be happy.”

Sarah swallowed hard, “Me too.”

“I’m sure we’ll get to see pictures when we get back. They’ll all be dull of course since the life of the party wasn’t there, but...” Vincent trailed off his emerald eyes lighting with laughter.

“Must you turn everything into a joke?” she grumbled.

“Lighten up, Sarah. We’re in a tight spot, but it’s going to be okay,” he assured her, all the playfulness absent from his voice.

Sarah sighed, keeping her gaze on the fire. She imagined how the mating ceremony would have been from what she remembered of Emily and Marcus’. Lark would have been stunning in her dress and, with Natalia working on the floral arrangements, she bet the outside décor was just as beautiful.

“I think dinner’s done,” Vincent said, interrupting her thoughts.

Her stomach rumbled loudly as she accepted the hot, wet piece of meat from Vincent’s hand with a small nod.

Eat, sleep, and remember tomorrow is a new day
, she thought.

V
incent twitched his nose as if something was tickling it. He lifted his hand, but it froze; he couldn’t move with his arm pinned to the ground. His eyes flew open and he inhaled sharply, noticing pressure on his chest. Fear encompassed him and he moved to sit up quickly when he heard a sigh.

He blinked looking down at his chest and seeing a full head of blonde hair.
Sarah!
The weight was Sarah—she was lying on him. And his arm was tucked tightly around her torso, holding her lithe body to his.

Vincent laid his head back down on the ground and let out a long breath.
It’s just Sarah.
His breathing eased and he relaxed, finding an odd comfort in her body pressed against his.
Wait! What? She’s Preston’s girl, Devon’s sister-in-law, and, God, Lark will kill me if I mess around with her baby sister.

Sarah groaned and stretched, pressing her breasts unconsciously into his chest. Vincent closed his eyes and willed his body not to react—
that
would be embarrassing. Her flaxen locks smelled like grass and dirt, but he could still detect her natural feminine raspberry-chocolate scent. It was euphoric.

His cock stirred and he gritted his teeth.
I really need to get out of this position before she wakes up. Why am I cuddling her anyway? I’m not a cuddler!

Carefully, he slid out from under Sarah’s warm body, taking care to gently set her head on the ground. His body instantly missed the feel of hers, but it was best she not wake up in an awkward position. The situation was already complicated enough without adding to it.

***

S
arah stooped down, cupping her hand so she could scoop some water into her mouth. The cool liquid slid down her parched throat and she let out a long breath between gulps of water. Vincent sat next to her and splashed water on his face.

She sat back on her haunches and rubbed at her brow. “We need to figure out how to carry water with us. We’ve been lucky last night and today, but the last thing we need is to end up dehydrated like we were the past few days. Yesterday was too close,” Sarah said, rocking back on her heels.

She was beginning to feel more like herself. Once the stiffness left her muscles and the cuts and bruises healed, she would be as good as new. A decent night’s rest and a mostly full belly had done a lot for her. Thankfully, it hadn’t been too cold last night—which was surprising. She was fairly certain that it could drop into the forties, maybe lower at night. Oddly enough, she hadn’t woken chilled at all.

“Next store we come by, we’ll need to pick up a water bottle,” Vincent teased, giving her a goofy grin.

Sarah stood up and shook her head. “It’s not funny.”

“Never said it was.”

“Then stop turning it into a big joke.”

“Just trying to make you smile,” Vincent said.

She turned back around to stare at him, watching as he splashed water onto his face and rubbed it into the back of his neck.
Why does he care if I smile?

“I’ll smile when we get home.”

“I know this is serious,” Vincent stood up, all playfulness leaving his features, “But we need to keep our spirits up and stay positive. If we let the situation get to us, it’s going to be harder to get home.”

“Fine,” she conceded. She supposed he did have a point. Morale was everything.

“Which way do you want to go?” Vincent asked, staring at their surroundings.

Sarah looked up at the sky, using the sun to determine the direction they should go. “We need to go back that way if we want to head to Texas,” she said, pointing in the direction from which they had come from. “But that’s the way toward the Lunas and we know that we are wanted by the law, too.”

“So we head away from home?” Vincent asked, apprehensively.

When he said it out loud it didn’t sound like a great idea. Sarah shifted on her feet, taking him in. He had no shoes—not that he seemed to mind—and neither of them had jackets, food, or water. Their situation was one mishap away from disaster. They needed a plan before something happened to either of them. An injury or a cold night could mean the difference between life and death.

“They’ll expect us to head back to Texas to seek out sanctuary and safety with our pack. So, if we keep going in the opposite direction, maybe we stand a chance at getting some rest and supplies. We could also lose them. Maybe even get them to give up their search,” Sarah thought out loud.

“Our family thinks we are dead anyway; it’s not like they are going to be looking. There is no reason to head that way. No rescue party is coming. How do you propose we get supplies?”

Sarah chewed on her lip. “I don’t know. Let’s just take this one step at a time.”

Vincent nodded and motioned for her to go with his hand. “Lead the way.”

***

V
incent watched as Sarah wiggled a stick between her palms. It seemed she’d been whittling away for hours trying to start a fire. Finally, a thin line of smoke fluttered up and he held his breath, waiting for a fire to catch. His stomach growled as he finished adjusting two rabbits on a spit.

Sarah sighed heavily as flames began to lick the twigs, causing them to crackle.

“Just give it a minute to get started and then we can make dinner.”

“Learn that trick in Girl Scouts?” Vincent asked, curious.

“No, I already told you I camped with my parents a lot.”

“True, but most people don’t know how to do that. They bring the hand held lighters with them.”

Sarah looked up at him with her jaw set and eyes narrowed. “My parents wanted to make sure we knew what to do if we ever got lost in the wilderness while out hunting,” she responded annoyed.

“So, they taught you how to take care of yourself because they cared about you,” he stated.
That must have been nice.
His own father taught him lots of lessons, only Emmett’s teaching had involved a beating or verbal abuse if he got it wrong.

Sarah shrugged, looking away from him. She crossed her arms over her chest and let out an irritated sigh.

Vincent adjusted the rabbits over the fire as he studied her. Before Preston’s death, she had been warm, friendly, and talkative. Now, she was standoffish—almost downright cold. He understood what she was trying to do all too well. Sarah was keeping him at arm’s length for fear of getting hurt again. He wanted to comfort her and assure her that everything would be okay, but he’d never done that type of thing before. His knowledge of women was limited to hasty one-week relationships or one-night stands. He didn’t have the first idea how to befriend one.

Sarah pursed her lips. “I was thinking we should keep heading in the general direction we’ve been walking. New Mexico has a few national parks. If I’m remembering correctly, there is one close to where we are. I think we’re heading in the right direction. We could stop by there and pick up supplies, maybe get a stash of food before we figure out how to get back home.”

“Once we make our way out of the woods, we should stay out of them. The Lunas probably still have a substantial amount of men out there searching for us. They are in their element in the forest. Werewolves thrive in nature. We’ll have to find a way to get a car.”

“How? We don’t have any money.”

Vincent chuckled. “How did you expect to get home?”

Sarah frowned. “I don’t know. I guess I hadn’t really thought it all the way through. I mean, we could ask people for help—maybe.”

Vincent stood up and dug into his jean pocket, pulling out his brown leather wallet. He shoved the wallet back into his pocket and resumed his perch on the log.  “It won’t have to come to that. Rabbits are done and they look good, too. I think I’m going to have to make a rabbit stew when we get back home.”

Sarah scrunched up her face in disgust.

“Not a fan?” Vincent asked, carefully removing their feast and placing it on a large piece of bark.

Sarah took the piece of meat he offered. “I’m not really a fan of rabbit.”

“But it tastes like chicken,” he argued.

“Not a fan of that either.”

“Oh come on, who doesn’t like chicken?” he asked, causing her to laugh. Her giggle was melodic and her sapphire eyes twinkled.

“I haven’t liked it ever since I got sick one year after we went out to eat at a restaurant. I threw up for two days. My mom...” she trailed off and looked away. The smile slipped away from her face as the stoic, impassive face she’d been walking around with lately replaced it. “I just don’t like it.”

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

Sarah scoffed and took a large bite out of the rabbit.

“I’m serious. I know things have been hard lately and I know what you’re doing,” he started, earning himself a glare from the blonde. “Look all I’m trying to say is...” he paused,
what am I trying to say?
He understood her, but he didn’t know how to make it better. He couldn’t even make himself better. “Just don’t shut yourself down, Sarah.”

“Like you’re one to talk. Don’t lecture me about shutting down. I see what you do. Bouncing from one woman to the next like they’re some sort of prize to win. Then when you’re done with them you shove them away before you can develop any feelings whatsoever for them. So, don’t try to tell me-”

“I’m not trying to lecture...I want to help you.”

“I don’t want it,” she shot back through gritted teeth. “Help yourself first.”

Vincent swallowed. “I have issues too, okay? But this thing you’re doing—where you won’t talk about your parents or Rick or Preston—it’s not going to make it better.”

“Because sleeping with a different girl every night is going to make your problems go away?” She set her food on the ground and shot to her feet. “Excuse me.” Sarah glowered at him for a long moment before stomping into the trees.

Vincent sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He should’ve just kept his mouth shut.

***

S
arah led the way through the brush, using the sun as her compass.
Another long day of hiking through the woods.
At least they were no longer being chased. The first two days had been rough. Every time they’d stopped to catch their breath, a wolf sprung at them. She would take the reprieve even if things were tense between her and Vincent. He had been silent the entire day; neither of them had spoken since their fight last night.

It infuriated her that Vincent was right. He had been nothing but kind to her and she’d been a bitch. With everything that was happening, she couldn’t bring herself to open up to anyone else. If she didn’t let anyone in, she couldn’t be hurt when they died. And everyone seemed to be dying around her. In fact, she’d probably be doing him a favor if she did push him away. But it wasn’t fair to keep being so cold either. They were in an impossible situation and he was attempting to make the best of it.

“Hey,” Vincent reached out and grabbed her elbow.

Sarah froze, turning to face him. Her heart skipped a beat as he walked in front of her.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“I smell something.”

“What?”

Vincent turned back to face her, a lopsided grin on his face. “Mothballs.”

“What?” she asked confused.
Is he losing it?