Chuckling, I scratched his head, then headed off in the direction Marc had pointed out. He followed, still chewing on the scrap of meat and bread that had survived our race through the woods. Half an hour later, I was cursing my human legs. Hiking through the forest on two feet was serious work, and the constant incline—we were literally climbing the side of a mountain—didn’t help.

Around the halfway point, we stopped to drain our canteens. Marc refilled them with two bottles of water from the pockets of his baggy pants, while Jace lapped from a stream he’d found. Twenty minutes later, we were half a mile from the sight of the murder, according to Uncle Rick’s GPS. But we never made it that last half mile.

I’d just shoved aside the millionth branch to slap me in the face when sudden stillness in front of me dragged my focus from my own scrapes and bruises to Jace. He stood frozen, ears twisted to the sides, tail twitching nervously.

He smelled something, and my automatic reaction was to sniff along with him, though the chances of my human nose picking up whatever he smelled were slim to none.

So I was shocked when it actually did.

A stray.

I stiffened, and Marc’s hand settled silently on my shoulder, letting me know he’d noticed it too, and warning me not to speak. And as if it mattered. Our sudden silence and stillness would tell the stray—wherever he was—that we’d noticed him.

The very fact that I could smell him in human form meant two things. First, the scent was fresh. Second, the stray was close. He had to be, or his scent wouldn’t be so strong. And it was strong. The stray must have been exactly where we now stood only moments earlier. We’d practically tripped over him.

Jace’s tail twitched faster, and he stared into the branches of a tree to our left. He’d spotted something. I followed his gaze, peering into the heavily laden pine branches, but could make out nothing more than needles and shadows.

Then, suddenly, Jace snorted through his nose and dismissed the distraction, like he might dismiss a mouse too small to bother chasing. He started walking again, continuing on our current heading as if he hadn’t noticed anything.

I stared after him, then glanced at Marc, who grabbed my upper arm and hauled me after Jace, warning me not to speak with a single glance. That was a talent I’d always envied. The only thing I could do with a single glance was piss people off. Which was not a very valuable skill to have when one is on trial for her life.