Page 68 of Stealing Mercury
Samantha nodded. “And you?”
“I’ll lead a false trail for the hunters, then join you.”
She folded her arms across her chest, all the laughter gone from her cheeks. “So, you make yourself the bait. Take the biggest risk.”
“I’m fastest. I can lay the trail and get back to you long before the hunters double-back.”
Her lips pressed together in a bunch, then the tension eased and she licked her lips. “Be safe,” she said. “And don’t be long.”
“Nothing,” he promised, “will ever keep me away from you for long.”
***
Mercury breathed deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of his enemies. He turned his head and moved forward, taking in another breath. Teasing out the direction of a scent on the wind as he was approaching them was far harder than tracking a scent trail behind them, but the stakes were high, inflaming his senses and driving his determination.
Another deep breath and Mercury had the whip-master’s scent in his nose. He worked his way into Drake’s path, then laid a trail to lure him away from the other hunters that stalked the woods with him. A broken twig, a scuffed trail in the dirt, crushed brambles beneath his boot.
He stopped, hugging his body to a wide tree, and listened. There, the scrape of a branch against the whip-master’s coat. Confident Drake followed, Mercury circled around. This time his steps were light. Not even the ground noticed the weight of his tread. He fell into step behind his enemy.
He followed the man past the edge of the trail he’d laid. A satisfied warmth seeped through his muscles as he watched him grow frustrated with no more trail to follow, then Drake stopped abruptly. He stood there, stone still, for nearly a minute.
Drake cursed low then raised his voice. “Impressive, Mercury.” He turned slowly to face him. “But I always knew Owens underestimated you.”
His hand edged toward the whip coiled on his hip.
Mercury snarled. “Don’t make the same mistake.”
“You can’t think I’m going to lie down and die, because you’re feeling puffed up on this temporary freedom.”
He said he’d fight, but his hand halted.
Mercury held his distance. “I don’t plan to kill you.”
Drake’s brows shot up. “Turning into a pacifist? That woman is clouding your thinking.”
Mercury grinned, a growl vibrating in the back of his throat. “Are you asking me to rip your throat out? Offer me your throat. Tempt me. I might not be able to resist.” He wanted Drake to do exactly that. Give him an excuse to break his promise. It wasn’t Samantha clouding his thinking, it was his own rage.
Drake’s hands slowly lifted to his sides. His face paled, but beyond that small tell, he remained indifferent. The whip-master was notorious for his unemotional way of dealing with the Dogs.
“You control your fear well.” He thought of Drake’s earlier words, then added, “Impressive.”
“Fear? I’d say it’s more a healthy respect for your ability to kill efficiently. You’re a predator, Mercury. I haven’t forgotten that, even if you’ve fooled Sam.”
“Don’t even think of her,” he snapped. “Don’t speak of my Samantha.” Mercury instantly regretted the words that told Drake more than he had a right to know about his feelings for his mate.
“Your Samantha? So, she’s playing it that way. I bet you think she actually wants you.”
Mercury tamped down the rage coursing through him and drew on the icy, calculating mien he’d perfected through years of battle. “Are you brave or foolish to goad me?”
“Maybe there are some things you should know about Samantha Devlin.” Unfortunately, the sudden drop in temperature didn’t work as effectively on Drake as it did in the arena. The bastard had seen Mercury use the look many times. “After all,” Drake taunted. “Roma chose her. Owens never hires anyone without knowing everything about them.”
They hadn’t known everything. They hadn’t known she’d aid him and his brothers. But Mercury couldn’t speak of that. He intended to let this man live and he couldn’t give Drake anything more to use against her.
Drake smiled, the same cruel twist of lips he wore as his men chained up a Dog for him to whip. “Owens and Sam Devlin are old pals, you know.”
“That’s not true.” Even as he spoke, Mercury realized there was no point in listening to Drake. The man was ever a skilled and shameless liar, but he could smell the lie.
“Oh, not Samantha. Her father, Samuel Devlin. I guess the apple fell farther from the tree than we expected. Her old man would never have tried to steal a shipment out from under Owens. He’d never have lived so long.”
