Page 27 of Run Little Fawn

And there, on the opposite corner, I see him.

He's leaning against a lamppost, his arms crossed over his chest and his ankles casually crossed. He looks like any other guy, just another face in the crowd.

But I know better.

I know the coiled strength in those shoulders, the lethal grace in those long legs. I know the hunger in those eyes, the cruel curve of that mouth.

I know him, even if I don't want to.

Even if every cell in my body is screaming for me to run, to hide, to get as far away from him as I can.

But I don't.

I take a deep breath, my fingers tightening on the strap of my bag. And then I step off the curb, into the street.

Into the wolf's waiting jaws.

Chapter Thirteen

THE HUNTER

I watch her from across the busy street, my body hidden in the shadows of an alley.

She's walking with purpose, her stride confident and her head held high. For a moment, I think she's spotted me, her eyes flickering in my direction with a hint of recognition.

But then she turns away, continuing down the sidewalk like she hasn't just locked gazes with the man who's been hunting her across state lines.

I frown, my brow furrowing as I study her retreating form.

Is she playing dumb, pretending not to see me in some misguided attempt at throwing me off her trail? Or does she really not know I'm here, watching her every move like a hawk stalking a rabbit?

I'm inclined to believe the latter. My little fawn is clever, but she's not that good of an actress.

If she knew I was this close, I'd see it in the tension of her shoulders, the quickening of her step.

No, she's oblivious to my presence, lost in her own thoughts as she navigates the crowded streets of Syracuse.

I push off the wall, melting into the throng of pedestrians with practiced ease. I keep a safe distance between us, my eyes never leaving her slender form as she weaves through the masses.

It's almost too easy, tracking her like this. A part of me is disappointed, hoping for more of a challenge from my wily prey.

But I suppose I can't blame her for letting her guard down, just a little. After all, she has no idea just how far ahead of her I am.

While she was hitching rides and hopping trains, I was jetting across the country, cutting the distance between us to mere miles. It felt like cheating, in a way. Like I was breaking some unspoken rule of the Hunt by using my resources to gain the upper hand.

But all's fair in love and war.

And this little game of ours is a bit of both.

Besides, I never said I would play fair. The only rule that matters is the one that ends with her in my arms, broken and begging and utterly mine.

I watch as she slips into a department store, the automatic doors swishing shut behind her. I pause outside, my eyes scanning the display windows with feigned interest. I can just make out her form through the glass, moving between the racks of clothes with a determined air.

She's in there for a while, long enough that I start to wonder if she's slipped out some back exit and given me the slip. But then she emerges, a shopping bag dangling from her wrist and a satisfied tilt to her chin.

I fall into step behind her once more, my curiosity piqued by her little shopping spree. What could she possibly need that's worth risking exposure? A change of clothes, perhaps? A disguise to help her blend in with the city crowds?

Or maybe something more practical.

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