Lost and Found (A Werewolf Wars Novel Book 4) (8 page)

Sarah stared off into the distance. Her parents always encouraged her. She couldn’t imagine having them beat her down for trying her hardest. As the silence stretched between them, she realized Vincent probably didn’t want to keep talking about his family. He probably needed to talk about it in small doses just as she did with Preston. “Lark and I were always best friends even though there was an age gap. After our parents, we bonded even more. I’m not sure what I would do without her.”

“Dev and Em have always been close. Dev and I didn’t really connect until I was a teen. Emmett was so hard on me—harder on him. Dev took me under his wing and taught me a lot of things my dad expected of me, but didn’t have the patience to teach,” Vincent explained.

“I can’t imagine growing up like that,” Sarah whispered.

“I’d tried really hard to conform to his wishes, but one day I realized it would never be good enough, so I decided to be who I wanted to be. Once I stopped worrying about what he thought, it made my life better in some ways, worse in others,” he answered dejectedly.

Sarah shifted in his embrace, staring up at the opaque, black sky, wondering if they could both find peace. They both had their demons and, in small doses, it wasn’t so bad clearing the air. Tonight, she didn’t mind talking a little more.

“But it didn’t change how you felt? You still thought you weren’t living up to his expectations?” she asked curiously. Vincent was always so silly; it was a rarity for him to be so open. While she wanted to know more about him, she didn’t want to push too hard and have him not talk at all.

“You hear something too many times, you start to believe it. Developing a sense of humor was my way of coping. The thing is, everyone always laughs with you, but no one ever takes you seriously, or wants to be your friend,” he said quietly. “Dev was my only friend in high school—Daniel too, to an extent. But, they were both ahead of me and they didn’t have friends either.”

Sarah’s heart clenched painfully in her chest as she listened to him speak.
Does he even know how much he’s helped me the past few days?

“If you weren’t here with me, I don’t know where I would be. I don’t know why your father couldn’t see how strong, caring, and capable you are, but you’ve been my rock, Vincent. Thank you.” She turned her head and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. His scruff grazed deliciously over her lips, causing her breath to quicken; she was so close to his thin pink lips.

What would it be like to kiss him?

“What was that for?” Vincent asked, jolting her back to reality.

Sarah blinked and cleared her throat. She shook her head and mentally chastised herself for thinking about him like that again. Her heart raced and she closed her eyes, willing her body to calm down. “Just...uh, thanks, for everything. You’re my friend...and I’m glad to have you here with me,” she stammered.

What am I doing? Why do I keep having this reaction to him?

Vincent kissed the top of her head, sending butterflies fluttering through her belly. “No problem. Thanks for being my friend.”

Sarah closed her eyes and forced her frayed nerves to relax. She sighed contently as improper thoughts of Vincent fled her mind. “Good night,” she whispered.

“Night.”

S
arah prepared for another fun-filled day in the woods as she finished rolling up the blankets. Vincent scoured the nearby bushes for something to eat. Her stomach grumbled, and she groaned inwardly. Berries weren’t going to be enough to fill them up. But she wasn’t ready to eat the MREs yet. She’d only taken four of them and they wouldn’t last long.

She zipped up the bag and stood up to stretch. Lifting up on her toes, she reached her arms to the sky, working out the kinks from a long night sleeping on the ground. She grimaced and scrunched her face up as a sharp pain sliced through her injured arm.
How the hell did I forget about that?

“You okay?” Vincent asked as he approached, eyeing her worriedly.

“Arm,” she explained, gingerly rubbing at the sore flesh.

Vincent walked around her, his hands gently grazing over the bandaged area. “The wrap seems to have held up, but should probably be checked and changed. We’ll stop by the river—make sure we get it washed out and re-bandaged,” Vincent replied.

“I’m okay,” Sarah assured, giving him a weak smile. “Did you find anything to eat?”

“There weren’t too many berries left on the bushes,” he explained, holding out his crumpled shirt. A few handfuls of the sweet fruit lay in his makeshift basket.

“It will have to do. Thanks.” It wasn’t much and would do little to fill her, but it would do. She sat down on the ground and spread her feet out in front of her, wanting to stretch. “We should go over our plan, too.”

“You still want to try and take them out?” Vincent asked, watching her as he scooped some berries into his hand and plopped them into his mouth.

“They aren’t going to stop hunting us, and I don’t think they’re going to let us out of the area. I don’t know how they found us exactly—maybe the fire—maybe they caught our scent. Regardless, the best defense is a strong offense.”

“Did you play sports?” Vincent teased.

Sarah took a few berries as she rolled her eyes, nodding.

“What’d you play?”

“Softball.”

“How did I not know that?” Vincent asked, grinning.

Sarah shrugged. “You came in the late spring and the season had already ended. We didn’t play well enough to make it into the playoffs this year.”

Vincent chewed on his berries. “I saw your swing; you’re pretty good. I’m thinking we should get you a club to use as a weapon. Like you said, we need a good offense. First thing we need to do is mask our scent. We’ll need to rub our clothes and ourselves down with leaves and dirt. Even then, your shoulder could give us away. You’ll need to be careful not to let it get infected as well as not letting it reopen. Blood is a very powerful scent; wolves can smell it from miles away.”

“Fantastic,” she muttered.

“We could use it to our advantage though,” he started slowly. Sarah met his eyes and waited for him to continue. Her stomach turned as she realized where his train of thought was going. “You’d be the bait. Then I would attack when they least suspect it. Only problem is, we wouldn’t know how many of them we’d be luring in. If we get too many, we run the risk of being captured.”

“If we do this, I want a weapon,” Sarah admitted. She picked up a branch with the circumference of a finger and twirled it in her hands. “Do you think we could make one? It’s not a bat, but it would be effective.” she held it up for him.

“You’ll want to make sure it’s sharp enough to puncture the skin and thick enough not to break when you stab them,” he replied.

Sarah picked up a stone from the ground and started working it against her stick to make a point.

Vincent scrubbed a hand through his hair. “We can’t take on more than two—maybe three. I can only take on so many and with your injured arm, you will have a hard time in a fight. I know you are more than capable of handling yourself, but I don’t want to take any unnecessary risks.”

“Me neither. Getting caught is not an option I’m willing to consider,” Sarah said honestly. The Lunas wanted her for one thing—to be a breeder. The thought of a life in captivity made bile rise up in her throat. She gagged, shuddering at the same time.
That is not going to happen.

***

V
incent walked alongside Sarah as she followed a trail through the trees. They had spent most of the morning in pursuit of their enemies. So far, the woods were silent; he couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not. If they’d managed to evade their assailants, then maybe they were better off continuing on away from danger.

He didn’t like the idea of putting Sarah into such a precarious situation. She’d already been through so much the past few months and he would kill anyone who tried to hurt her again. The innate need to protect her was overwhelming—the yearning to be near her consumed him. He couldn’t quite explain it.

There was something about being with her that just felt right. He could talk to her about anything. He’d told her things he’d never talked about with anyone. Though, she’d called him a friend and he had reciprocated the feeling to her. But he knew it was more than that—at least for him. Besides, she was still broken up over Preston and he didn’t want to ruin what they had. Not to mention, he didn’t know the first thing about being in a relationship. He would probably screw it all up and then lose her completely.

“You want to take a break and stop for lunch?” Sarah asked tiredly.

“Are we going to eat those awful silver packets of food because I think I’d rather starve,” he joked. The idea of eating preserved, dehydrated food was disgusting.

“Despite how awful they taste, they have lots of nutrients, which we both need,” she pointed out. “And when you’re starved, anything tastes good.”

“Hey, I’ve seen the ramen noodles you eat during lunch at The Cookie Jar. Maybe you can eat crap like that, but I’m spoiled. I grew up with a home cooked meal on the kitchen table for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day of my life,” he smirked as she took a seat on a fallen log.

“Your mom can cook,” she commented as he set the bag down and plopped down next to her. “Do you want to share one or eat a whole one each?”

Vincent thought about it for a moment, weighing his options. “Let’s share. I don’t think I can stomach a whole one myself, and better safe than sorry. We might need to ration our food.”

Sarah dug into the bag and produced their lunch.

“I’m salivating already,” Vincent smiled.

Sarah bumped him with her elbow as she laughed. “Stop!”

“Sorry, I’m just mentally preparing myself for the assault my taste buds are going to endure,” he continued with a laugh.

“You’re insufferable,” she commented, tearing into the package.

“Maybe, but you think I’m funny.”

Sarah giggled, her sapphire eyes lighting up brightly. She offered him the tray of dehydrated, preserved food first. He picked up a piece of what he thought was meat and placed it in his mouth.

“Well?” Sarah grinned.

Vincent coughed as he attempted to chew the food—if you could call it that—and not spit it out. “It’s even worse than I imagined. I swear you’re trying to poison me.”

Sarah picked up a piece of food and plopped it in her mouth. “My mom wasn’t much of a cook and my dad worked long hours as a doctor. We ate a lot of takeout growing up, but we always had dinner together.”

“I need a drink of water.”

“You need to eat more,” Sarah replied, ignoring him.

“You’re trying to kill me.”

“It’s not that bad,” she laughed.

“Says the takeout queen.”

“Hey!”

His stomach rumbled loudly. Despite the horrid taste of the food, he couldn’t deny his hunger, especially if he wanted any hope of shifting. He closed his eyes and swallowed the dreadful thing. The taste caused his stomach to lurch, the animal in him wanting nothing to do with the dehydrated, who-knows-how-long-it’s-been-that-way piece of meat. Once he was sure the food was going to stay down, he opened his eyes and reached back into the container.

His fingers brushed up against Sarah’s soft, dainty hand. She pulled back, her gaze flickering to his.

“Sorry,” she whispered, clasping her hands together.

“It’s okay, you go ahead,” he replied, not taking his eyes off her.

She smiled and looked down at the food then back up at him. Sarah was so close, her perfect pink, full lips mere inches from his. Her chest heaved as she leaned in toward him. His eyes flickered to her mouth, watching as her tongue darted out wetting her lips. Did she want to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her? Nervously, he lifted his hand and pushed her golden hair out of her face, slowly closing the gap between them.

Her warm breath puffed against his face and she blinked before letting her eyes fall shut. Mustering up the courage to close the distance, he leaned closer.

A loud rumble jolted him back to reality. He pulled away from her and shot to his feet.

“What is it?” Sarah asked, looking around wildly. “Did you hear something?” she whisper shouted at him.

“I hear a truck,” he stated, putting a finger over his lips and motioned for her to follow him.

Sarah wrapped up the food and shoved it into the sack. She picked up their bag, zipped it up, and slung it on her back in case they needed it and didn’t have time to come back for it. Once she’d finished packing up, she crept after Vincent.

Vincent pushed through the dense auburn foliage. They came to a small creek bed; he walked across the stones one at a time. The vehicle screeched and whined loudly as it drew closer. He turned to Sarah and she nodded for them to check it out. Vincent continued on, moving through the brush.

The trees finally ended, and he could make out the black road ahead. He ducked down in the brush and Sarah crouched next to him, waiting for the vehicle. Waves of heat radiated off the pavement. The squeak grew even louder as a red pickup grumbled to a stop across the street.

Sarah drew in a deep breath as the front and passenger doors both opened and slammed shut with a thump.

“Are they wolves?” she whispered so low, he barely heard her.

Vincent inhaled, closing his eyes. The distinct woodsy scent of wolves entered his nostrils and he nodded. He recognized the scent—Luna’s men. This was the opportunity they were waiting for. They were going to take advantage of the situation.  He crept closer and ducked down behind a fallen log.

“I only see the two. We could get the truck and have a way out of here,” she mumbled.

“We just need to draw them far enough away from the truck so we can take it.”

“I’ll distract them while you go in for the kill,” Sarah volunteered.

“Are you sure?” he questioned.

“I can do this. The more of them we take out the less of a threat they are,” she reasoned.

“Be careful. You have your weapon, Buffy?”

Sarah smiled at his joke and patted her boot. She rolled up her pant leg and slowly withdrew the sharpened stake.