She breathed in a long, slow pull, as if reading Nick through his scent. He couldn’t help but to breathe her in too. It was involuntary. She smelled as good as she looked, but he couldn’t place the scent, like some rare and expensive spice. Sweet. Exotic.
Danielle’s brown eyes darkened to black, and a low growl came from deep in her throat.
Nick was in a cloud. Sort of like when he used to ride to school with Billy and Joe, and the whole car filled with… well, something he didn’t partake in anymore. He was aware of his surroundings, but he didn’t care about them. Not about her partner standing behind her, or Greg watching them like they’d both lost their minds. Part of him yelled in warning—she’s dangerous. He denied that. She was too small to be dangerous.
Her growl cut short when Lothar snagged her sleeve, pulling her back.
Her polite smile returned as if nothing had happened. “My condolences to you and your family,” she said in a monotone.
“Stay off the trails, both of you,” Lothar warned, turning, his hand on her lower back as he prodded her away. “And let us do our job.”
Nick watched them cross the quiet street and climb into a white full-sized van with the words, Ludvitski Wildlife Specialists, stretched in black letters across the side.
“Well, that was different,” Greg said. He blew out a breath. “Still, I’d hunt down a bear with her any day.”
“Just stay away from Danielle,” Nick said, turning on him.
When Greg winced, Nick stopped dead. What was he doing, crashing antlers? First Lothar, now Greg. He needed some sleep, because he was losing it.
“Sure, no problem,” Greg said, lifting his hands in surrender. “I thought you and Genevieve were a thing?”
“Not anymore. Genevieve’s high maintenance. Let’s just leave it at that.”
“You don’t think there’s some psychopath hiding out in the forest, do you? I mean, people do get attacked by bears.”
“I’m not sure what to think.” Nick’s gaze focused past his parents’ house and into the wilderness beyond.
“If there’s some madman out there, I could really use your help,” Greg said.
Nick turned back to him. “I’ll be around.”
“Have you considered taking the sheriff’s position? I’m sure the town would be grateful.”
“Me?” He laughed. “Sheriff?”
“Right.” Greg smiled tightly. “I guess you’re above all this.” Turning, he walked away, hands in his pockets.
Nick felt immediately guilty. “Wait.” He caught up with Greg. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Not everyone is cut out for big city life, you know.”
“I know. I’m not sure I’m cut out for it either.”
Nick lived in New York because his job gave him purpose. That didn’t mean he’d forgotten his family. He always missed them. And now he would miss Jason for the rest of his life.
“Hey, I was thinking about taking my Mustang out of retirement.” Nick tilted his head in the direction of the backyard, where his once prized possession rested on cinderblocks with a blue tarp over it.
Greg ran a hand through his hair, making his curls pop up. “What does that have to do with me?”
Nick shrugged. “Yeah, you’re right. I should leave it on blocks. I prefer my truck anyway.” He walked away, hoping Greg would take the bait.
“Wait.” Greg caught up with him. “If I help you get it running, do I get to drive it?”
“When we get it running, you can have it.”
Nick walked away, feeling almost good about himself for the first time since he’d gotten the call about Jason. The feeling didn’t last long. He caught a whiff of Danielle’s scent left behind her in the yard and found himself resisting the urge to hunt her down.
He wasn’t like other people. He and Jason had never had the flu, injuries healed easily all on their own, and they both had a sixth sense that couldn’t be explained. Jason used to say they were like Clark Kent, their secret abilities sheltered by their adoptive parents. Now Jason was gone, and Nick had only himself.
Darcy Branwyn 
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