Alex held his gaze. “It sounds reasonable.”
“I know you’ll find it reasonable if I keep watch from the truck during the night. Miss Alex.” He gestured toward the rear of the truck. “There’s food, a tube tent, down sleeping bag and heater in the back. I assume you know how to make your own camp?”
“Yes.” The last thing she wanted was any personal help from him—and at least the wind wasn’t blowing. With her own multiple layers of clothes and his supplies, she’d do well enough.
He dismissed her with a nod. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll do the rest.”
She obeyed, keeping her thoughts focused on the practical motions of setting up a cold-weather camp, knowing she would spend the night trying to keep herself sane. Trying desperately to come up with a plan of her own.
Don’t find me, Kieran, she begged. For God’s sake, don’t find me until I can get free to warn you.
But she knew he would come. And she was all that stood between him and death.
Chapter 18
Kieran jumped down from the truck and turned to the driver. “Thanks for the ride.”
“No problem. Glad of the company. Hope you find what you’re looking for.” The trucker hesitated, glancing at his watch, and shivered melodramatically. “You sure this is where you want to be let off? It’s only six A.M., freezing as hell, and the nearest town a good five kilometers from here.”
Kieran shook his head. “I don’t want you going any farther out of your way. I can walk.”
The driver shrugged. “Have it your way. Just follow the road from the junction, and you’ll hit the town.” He turned up the volume on his radio. “Back to the lonely road!”
Kieran saluted the trucker and stretched cramped muscles as the truck vanished into the predawn darkness. He’d been lucky to catch a ride so soon after crossing into Alberta; he’d run himself to exhaustion that morning, but the idea of trying to shift made the gorge rise in his throat. He wouldn’t have risked coming close to any human being if he’d had any other way of reaching Lovell. That need was all he had left, all that let him hang on to sanity.
Now he was here. Here, so near the place that was calling him. He lifted his head, searching for some confirmation in the scents of unknown territory.
Nothing. The air was heavy and still and very cold, empty of messages.
He began to walk down the winding two-lane highway that the trucker had pointed out to him. So different from Minnesota or the prairie, with these snow-clad mountains on every side. Yet here was a true wilderness, a sense of sanctuary Kieran had never felt before.
Sanctuary. He set his jaw until it ached. If he was a murderer, he deserved no sanctuary. If he found no answers here, there would be none. And then…
There was no “then.” No future or past. Only the present. He would have to live in the perpetual “now” as the wolves did. Anything else was intolerable.
He walked for a mile and then ran another three. The scents of gathered humanity came to him at last, and he could see the faint glow of man-made light. False dawn tinged the sky with an eerie glow.
He stopped before he reached the edge of town, turning his head in every direction. Alexandra had told him to come here, but this was not the source of whatever summoned him. It lay somewhere beyond…
“I was waiting for you.”
Kieran turned, sinking into a crouch. A man walked out of the shadows, tall and lean and confident in his stride. He wore a heavy green plaid shirt, jeans and boots; a small backpack swung from one hand. As he came nearer Kieran saw his eyes: yellow-green, set into a chiseled face topped by a shock of hair mingled gray and black and white.
In the space of an instance Kieran knew who the man was. He straightened, his muscles still tense and ready for battle.
“You remember me,” the man said. “From Merritt.”
“Luke,” Kieran said hoarsely. “Luke Gévaudan.”
Gévaudan smiled, lips closed over teeth. “You weren’t as far gone as you seemed at the time.”