Free Running with the Pack: Cannon Pack, Book 3 by Beverly Rae Page B

them to hell. Crouching, he motioned for his friends to stay back, then peeked around the edge of the building. Five hunters stood in a loosely formed circle, their guns comfortably crooked in their arms or resting against a nearby Dumpster.
    “I say we call it a night, John.” A middle-aged hunter ran a hand over his weary face.
    “Not yet. We haven’t searched long enough.” John scowled. “You getting too old for this, Walter? If so, you can always stay home and knit in your rocking chair.”
    Walter drew himself straighter and puffed out his chest. “No need to turn gray over me, John-boy. If your little girlie can keep up, I can. That is, if she can.”
    Does he mean Lauren? Daniel risked leaning farther out, but Lauren wasn’t around. Wait. His girlie ?
    “Don’t worry about her. She’ll catch up with us. Anybody’s boots can come untied.” John glanced toward the other direction and shouted. “Yo, Lauren. Are you coming?”
    Daniel crooked his neck, searching for her. Was Lauren dating the hunters’ leader? He clenched his teeth and fought the revulsion constricting his throat.
    Her reply echoed off the walls. “Yeah. I’m on my way. Hold up, will ya? I’ll catch up.”
    “See? She’s catching up. Let’s get moving.”
    “But she wanted us to wait for her, John.”
    “I know, but she’ll be fine on her own, Walter. Which is more than I can say for you.” John slapped the older hunter’s arm good-naturedly, hefted his rifle into the crook of his arm and guided them away.
    “Why aren’t we jumping them?”
    Daniel resisted the urge to swat at Tucker’s breath tickling his ear. Or was it his own irritation he wanted to swat? Why weren’t they jumping the hunters? Instead, he hissed back, “I have my reasons. Take it easy.”
    “This doesn’t make any sense. We need to—”
    The thud of approaching footsteps hushed Tucker, and the other shifters crouched deeper into the darkness. Lauren burst into the alley, clutching her rifle, then slid to a stop. Slumping against the Dumpster, she lowered her gun to the ground, squatted and tugged at her laces.
    “Oh, for Pete’s sake. This frickin’ thing won’t stay tied.” Oblivious to the shifters only feet away, she mumbled a few curse words and tightened her laces.
    Daniel wasn’t surprised to find Tucker and the other shifters smiling. But their smiles left him with an unfamiliar, uncomfortable sensation. “Don’t think about it, men. We’re after the whole group. Not one female. We’ll skirt around her and catch up with the rest of them.” Why didn’t she hurry and leave? He scowled at her, wishing he could somehow warn her. Wondering why he wanted to warn her.
    “Forget it, Daniel. Besides, she’s asking for it. She helped kill Tyler, right? Then she deserves it just like the other scumbags do. Tyler should have his death avenged.” Tucker had shucked his clothing and shifted, dropping to all fours and padding around the building’s corner before Daniel knew it. The other men disrobed and transformed into their werewolf forms, giving Daniel no choice but to follow them.
    Crouching into an attack position, Tucker and the others moved toward their prey and surrounded her. Hearing their low growls, she froze and slowly looked up, her features resonating shock. She was outnumbered and she knew it.
    Daniel, still in human form, approached her and stood behind his friends. “Don’t scream.”
    Her wide eyes locked on to him and he could hear the change in her breathing, her puffs coming out in short, harsh bursts with the quick rise and fall of her chest. He sniffed, catching her alarm, her surprise—and something else. The odd scent swept through his memory. She was panicked, yes, but more. She was aroused. And, startling him, he was aroused, too. Yet instead of pleasing him as he’d thought it should, her fear wiped away the attraction and made the whirlwind in his gut grow bigger, wilder. He didn’t want her here, didn’t want