Page 2 of Relentless Touch

The taste of copper flooded his tongue where his teeth had cut the inside of his cheek.

For a second, the parking lot went still. Even the bass from the club seemed to dim, but that could’ve been from the ringing in his ears.

One of the men in the group raced back toward the club while the others headed toward them.

The scent of human overwhelmed Kevin.

His keys were on the ground…on the opposite side of Izan. Looked like his car was staying after all.

The wolf shifter glared at Kevin, pure malice in the dark depths of his eyes.

Heart thundering, Kevin took off toward the woods behind the building. As soon as he cleared the tree line, he shifted, hooves hitting soft earth.

He moved on pure instinct, eating up distance, launching over a fallen tree without losing stride. The woods swallowed him. Branches whipped against his flanks as he crashed through underbrush. His heart raced even faster than his legs, each beat a thunderclap that drowned out everything…except the sound of pursuit.

Shit!

Multiple sets of paws struck the forest floor, guttural snarls echoing through the night air. Of course Izan had a pack, because Kevin’s luck was a dumpster fire that never stopped burning.

A branch caught his antler and snapped. He stumbled, recovered, and pushed harder. His lungs burned. Impalas were built for bursts of speed, not sustained marathons through dense forest. Every root threatened to snap an ankle. Every low-hanging limb tried to clothesline him.

Behind Kevin, the pack was gaining. He could hear their ragged and hungry breathing now.

Lights! Ahead and to the left, yellow and warm, filtering through the trees like a beacon. Kevin veered toward them, hooves churning up dead leaves and rocks. The trees thinned and the ground changed from forest floor to gravel then to pavement.

A road. Buildings. Storefronts with darkened windows. The scent of mountain air was stronger now. Signs blurred past him, but he caught two words, Crimson Hollow.

His hooves clattered loudly against the asphalt, a ridiculous sound in the stillness.

Farther ahead there was warm light spilling from a two-story building. Kevin grew close enough to read the fancy sign. Glass Oak was carved into wood. Would’ve made more sense to have a glass sign.

Kevin’s entire body shook, his lungs on fire. The sounds of pursuit had gone quiet, which was either very good or so, so bad. He wasn’t slowing to find out.

His hooves scraped against the pavement of the side alley as he headed for the door spilling light. He tried to pull back, to slow down, but his impala cut left.

Right through the screen door.

The screen got tangled in his antlers, his hooves skidding on the tiled floor.

Screams blasted through the room, cookware clattering everywhere.

His legs shot out in four different directions when he tried to reverse course, his flank knocking a sheet pan off a counter and sending it crashing to the floor with a sound that could’ve woken the dead.

Oh fuck! He skidded right into a chrome table, the edge clipping his shoulder.

Was anyone going to help or just stare slack-jawed at him? They could at least throw something down for grip.

The impact sent a bin of potatoes soaring through the air. His antlers collided with an overhead rack of pots and pans, causing copper to rain down around him.

A hoof rolled over a cluster of potatoes, and Kevin slammed into the floor, his snout whacking against a thick pot he’d knocked down.

Not his most graceful moment.

Voices erupted from the front of the restaurant. Footsteps, fast and heavy, headed his way.

“What the hell was that?” A man asked.

“Something’s in the kitchen!” a guy shouted. “It just crashed in here then crashed again and again!”