Chapter 881 Chapter 881
Foster pulled his coat on and accepted the protein bar that Deacon held out to him. He checked for the tenth time that Ena was dressed. She nodded to something Gia said and then accepted the drink and snack from her.
Gia turned and gave Foster a hard look and then came toward them. “The older man is Orson.” She looked at Deacon as she said it.
Foster checked on Ena again. She was standing there looking toward the farm.
Gia smacked Foster on the chest. “Are you crazy? Don’t do something like that again.”
Ena looked at him and then stood there holding his gaze. He’d run in front of a gun to get to her.
“I think he had a good reason…”
Gia scoffed and interrupted her mate. “A good reason to run in front of someone shooting?”
Foster looked to see Deacon nod, then turn and look at Ena. He took a bite, so he couldn’t be expected to say anything because his mouth was full. He looked at Gia.
“Yeah.” Deacon pulled Gia’s hand and walked away.
Swallowing the dry paste, Foster went to the van, reached through the window, and grabbed a bottle of water out of the case someone had set on the seat.
Cy glanced at him. “You’re Cal’s kind of crazy.”
Foster snorted. “I’m some kind of something.” He turned and looked at Ena again and then sighed and went toward her. He’d run in front of a gun because she was his mate, only he hadn’t known that. His coyote had taken over, and the next thing he knew, he was running faster than he had in his life. His animal had known and kept it to himself.
“You saved me from being shot.” Ena searched his face. “Thank you.”
Admitting to her that it wasn’t his idea would have been the wrong thing to do, even with the stunned feeling he was experiencing, he knew that. He was no hero. “That was Orson?”
She took a Shakey breath. “Yes. He’s not in good shape.”
He needed to make her feel better. “None of them want to go near him, so I’m pretty sure he’s holding his own.”
She sighed. “He’s a strong man.” She stepped closer and then looked up at him. “Foster, I have to get him out of there.”
Foster was lost in her eyes. How had he not noticed the flecks of yellow in them before now? All of his kind had them.
“He’s like a father to me. I never would have survived this long without him.”
He blinked. Shit. “We’ll get him out.” He took a subtle breath in, needing to confirm it again. She didn’t have that same scent he’d smelled at the diner. Now, she smelled like home. It was a strange thing to think, but it was still the truth.
“Did you know?” She said it so softly that he’d almost missed it because the internal chatter was so loud right now.
He shook his head. “No. Were you wearing some kind of perfume at the diner?” His coyote had
liked that smell, too, he should have known there was a reason.
“Lotion. Orson told me to wear it when I was around one-forms because he doesn’t trust anyone.”
“Smart.” He nodded and then looked at the van before he did something weird like reach out and touch her hair.
“Orson is very smart.” Her voice was shaking. “He saw me—us.”
Foster turned back to her. “He knew it was you?”
She shrugged. “I think so. His expression changed.”
Foster blew out a breath. “He knows we’re here.” He frowned. “Unless you run with other coyotes normally.” His animal didn’t like that idea.
“I’ve only ever run with Orson. I have trust issues.”
He felt relief, which he knew was petty, but his animal didn’t care.
She stepped closer, leaned her face toward him, and inhaled deeply. “It’s so strange. A scent that stirs so much—” She looked at him. “It’s like I know you. My animal feels the same.” She licked her lips, and he traced the path of her tongue with his gaze. “What do we do now?”
His animal tensed. He cleared his throat. “Focus on getting Orson out of there.” He wanted to hug her. “The rest we can worry about later.”
Her relief was visible. His animal relaxed.
“Okay.” She placed her hand on his chest and looked up at him. “Thank you.”
He nodded because he couldn’t speak. His jaws were clenched together so tight that his teeth hurt, but he was doing it while he focused on his hands staying where they were, not grabbing her and shoving his face into her hair to breathe her in.
Deacon came over. “The others will be here by midnight.” He smirked. “I guess they found a faster method of travel. Gia’s checking the weather report now. If the forecast holds, we could
have heavy fog at dawn and wouldn’t have to wait for the storm.”
“Is that going to be enough time to get everything ready?” He had just promised Ena that they would get Orson; he didn’t want to end up being a liar.
Deacon grinned. “Cy and I have been working on that since we got here.” He pointed to the trees. “Put a spotter on a rifle in one of those trees.” He pointed over his shoulder, “And in that deep spot in the ditch over there.” He nodded. “A few more details to work out, but when the two SO boys are here, they’ll fill in the blanks.” He looked at Ena. “We’re going with your flier distraction idea. Creed says he’ll do it if he’s dropping something that explodes on impact and isn’t on a trigger or timer.”
“I can help…”
Foster jerked his head and looked at her. “You’re not.”
Her brows furrowed.
He blew out a breath. “Orson is going to need to see you when we get him out.”
Her look relaxed a little.
“Madison may need a hand. We don’t know what shape any others that could be in there will be in.”
She glanced toward the barn. “You think there’s others?”
Deacon nodded and then answered for him. “That one that shot at you wouldn’t be a sentry for an empty building.”
Foster held his breath until she nodded.
“Okay. I’ll stay and help.” She looked at Foster and then back to Deacon. “You just make sure Orson gets out of there.”
Gia called Deacon. He looked at her. “We will. We’re heading back to do some prep work.”
Foster watched Ena follow Deacon back over to the van. He was prepared to lock her in the van if he had to in order to keep her safe.