Once they had the tree in sight, she knew why.
Harley was crumpled at the base of the pine, still and silent. Blood marred the side of his face and his arm, but it was impossible to see if he was alive or dead as they crouched behind the dubious protection of several fallen logs.
The sound of sirens abruptly stopped. Help was at the house. Bliss would be safe. Declan’s perch was closer to the house, ensuring that help would reach Chaya and Natches first.
Duke indicated he’d head in and check Harley while she took a watch position.
Moving in to cover him, the assault rifle she carried held ready, she let her gaze move upward, let her instincts have free rein. A hunter could always tell when they were being hunted, and she could feel that sensation. But whoever hunted them hadn’t yet managed to get a bead on either of them. Finger next to the trigger, she nodded back at Duke slowly and watched him ease in to check Harley’s pulse. As he neared the sniper, her gaze was caught by the faintest gleam of brilliant blue almost unnoticeable behind the veil of his lashes and the sense of slowly readied tension in a body she’d been certain was completely relaxed, maybe dead.
Her fist jerked up, a move Duke caught from the corner of his eyes. He became still, his gaze roving though his head didn’t move.
In a single gesture, she indicated the younger man was conscious and prepared to explode into action. Harley was about Angel’s age, twenty-three or twenty-four at the most. Incredibly skilled but not likely to possess the finer points of patience and control that an additional five to eight years of training would give him. That or a lifetime of survival, such as Angel had endured.
She didn’t know what Duke said to the younger man, his lips did little more than tighten, but Harley’s blue eyes opened, blinked, then a frown grimaced his face. A second later, Duke snagged the rifle Harley eased from beneath him and slung it over his shoulder before gripping the younger man under the shoulders and pulling him to his feet. Taking most of the boy’s weight himself, Duke moved as quickly as possible, made his way to Angel, then with a nod in her direction, moved past her.
She had no more than eased into the sheltered dip of the path when a shot exploded through the forest. Immediately Duke went into a defensive position as Angel froze. Fear exploded inside her as she gestured in the direction Natches and Chaya had taken with the flat of her hand.
The sound ricocheted through Angel’s soul.
“No . . . Momma . . .” Soft, torn, and filled with fear, even as she directed Duke to continue along the path.
“Forget me,” Harley snapped. “Get to Natches and Chaya. . . .”
“Shut the fuck up!” Angel snapped as Duke began moving faster.
Staying close, her rifle up and ready, she moved backward, following the soft sound of footsteps while keeping her eyes moving, watching the terrain behind them. She could feel the threat. That sensation of a shooter searching for a mark. He was out there, higher, but not buried in one of the trees. Probably above them where the grade of the mountain became steeper.
That was where she would be, she knew. A tree would take time to extricate from safely. But a nest on the side of the hill, likely close to one of the faint trails, would be an excellent vantage point.
She kept her gaze there, searching, waiting for a sign.
“Chaya . . .” Harley gasped. “Is she with Natches?”
“If he doesn’t shut the fuck up, I’ll shoot him,” Angel muttered. “Sound carries, asshole.”
Duke was doing everything he could to shoulder the younger man’s weight, keep him moving, and keep him quiet. He was making damned good time, too, but Angel would almost bet someone had been or still was watching for them at some point.
As they began to clear the heavy pines, she moved quickly ahead. Staying low, she positioned herself at the best vantage point, turned, and kept a careful eye behind and around Duke. They weren’t much farther from the main entrance into the backyard. Once past the natural shield around the yard, they’d be a hell of a lot safer.
Then they could drop the big-mouth sniper and head to Chaya.
Oh God, she had to be okay. She had to be. . . .
Bliss needed her mother.
Chaya had to be okay.
“Moving behind.” Rowdy’s voice reached her as movement behind her to her right had her grimacing in irritation.
They didn’t need more traffic in the area right now. Lifting a hand, she gave them a signal to stay back.
“Clear,” Rowdy spoke, moving quickly past her even as she gave the signal to stay back.
Shock raced through her.
He had ignored her?
And he wasn’t alone.