Free Code Name: Baby by Christina Skye Page B

his stolen jacket. He liked the feel of the sheepskin lining and the soft suede body. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn a coat this nice.
    Turning away from the well-lit parking lot, he melted into the trees while an owl called somewhere in the night.
    An unmarked white sedan pulled into the parking lot from the other direction. Drawing back into the shadows, Cruz studied the two men who got out.
    Hard faces. Concealed carry holsters.
    If they hadn’t been sent by Ryker, they were sent by someone close enough that it didn’t matter.
    The restaurant door opened. The waitress walked out, looking confused. She stared at the parking lot as if she didn’t know where she was, and the men from the white car started walking toward her—the last thing Cruz needed.
    Somewhere the owl cried its two-note dirge and Cruz followed the sound, his eyes cold and focused.
    The owl’s dark shape cut through the darkness, headed back toward the bright lights and the woman who was turning slowly, studying the parking lot. Like a sleepwalker, she crossed beneath the big mercury lamps, one hand shading her eyes.
    â€œMa’am, is something wrong?” The two men were walking faster now.
    Cruz watched the owl with renewed intensity. He wasn’t going back into a cage.
    Not ever again.
    The owl circled, dropped. The second truck was up the hill now, motor racing as it picked up speed. Cruz focused, feeling pain behind his eyes, down his neck. But the pain brought power.
    The owl folded its wings and plummeted, talons extended, striking the waitress, who covered her head vainly. Cruz focused on the attack as the owl surged upward and plunged again.
    The men from the sedan were shouting now as they ran toward her.
    The waitress stumbled and then ran out into the path of the oncoming lights….
    And screamed.
    Â 
    M OONLIGHT CREPT SLOWLY across the old adobe walls. The kennels were quiet. A hawk cried somewhere in the night, and the long wings of a hunting owl hissed over the juniper trees.
    Baby awoke suddenly, shooting to her feet and waking Diesel, who was curled up beside her. She sniffed the air, her body tense.
    In the shimmering glow her fur looked like dark water beneath new ice. Only her eyes held the snap of heat and restless energy. Though she didn’t move, all the other dogs awoke.
    Soon they were standing together, noses to the wind, painted in cold moonlight.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    C AUGHT IN SLEEP , one foot in dreams, Kit heard a low, steady tap-tap on the roof, a rare sound in the desert.
    Yawning, she burrowed back under the covers. During the last storm, Baby and Diesel had raced through the mud like creatures gone mad, scampering in circles, their heads raised to the sheeting rain. Butch and Sundance had simply lain down and rolled until they were completely encased in brown slime.
    A dark nose rooted under her quilt, searched right and left, and then a second nose appeared.
    â€œHow did you guys get out of the kennel?”
    Downstairs, pots clanged. Kit took a deep breath as she smelled the unmistakable aroma of coffee brewing.
    Wolfe.
    Hit with a sudden dose of memories from the night before, she closed her eyes. She’d heard the sound of breaking glass, armed herself with her father’s rifle and moved quietly down the hall….
    And then Wolfe had knocked her weapon away, tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and dropped her in the closet.
    Baby’s head appeared from under the quilt. Her tail banged loudly on the edge of the bed, signaling keen excitement. Diesel wiggled out next and laid his head at an angle over Baby’s.
    â€œHigh-handed jerk,” Kit muttered. She didn’t care if the man was back or how he looked. She didn’t care why he’d come back either. She’d had a crush on Wolfe Houston for way too long, but it was over now. He was no good for her, and nothing was ever going to happen between them, so she’d