"Think we'll find them?" Max asked.

"I'm sure we will, Max," I said reassuringly . "With your help-and Gerald's."

Max didn't reply, but his eyes flicked toward me as though he understood what I was getting at. Sighing again, he closed his eyes and settled down to sleep.

Sighing myself, I said quietly to Leo, "Do you think you'll be warm enough? Or are you going to have to hibernate through the night?"

"Your body will provide all the warmth I require," he replied. "I am already much warmer from having eaten the soup."

"I could use a little of that myself," I commented, giving my stew a quick stir. I took a bite, noting that while it was fully cooked, it hadn't simmered nearly as long as I would have liked. I stared into my bowl for a few moments until it began to bubble, after which I gave Leo's bowl a quick glance to warm it up. I wondered if he would notice.

Not wanting him to scald his tongue, I murmured casually, "The soup is pretty hot, Leo. Better be careful."

If he deemed it odd that I should warn him after he had already swallowed most of it, he said nothing, but his next sip was slightly more cautious than the previous one had been. Registering the fact that it was, *118 *25*.

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indeed, much hotter, he gave me a sidelong glance with his golden eyes, and a sly smile touched his lips, curling the corner of his mouth to reveal one of his fangs.

"Witch," he whispered softly.

Nodding in reply, I took another sip from my own cup, though I believe I could have spoken aloud and Rafe wouldn't have heard me, for he had taken a seat across the campfire from us and seemed to be deep in thought, absently eating his food as though its taste, texture, and temperature meant nothing to him. It hit me belatedly that he must be thinking about his children, and I chastised myself for not having remembered that sooner. I shouldn't have been so sharp with him, should have been more understanding, and I tried to imagine how I would feel if someone had absconded with my own child.

The quick spasm of murderous rage I felt was enough to give me some idea of what Rafe was feeling, and I knew I owed him an apology.

"Rafe," I began. "I'm sorry for being so...testy. I know you must be worried about your boys."

His reply was a short nod, but I knew he understood, and perhaps even forgave me. Rafe had never been one to make speeches about how he felt; most of the time, his feelings were expressed as anger. I should have remembered that, too.

Leo finished his dinner and crawled under his blanket, leaving me to follow. I set a bowl of stew out in the snow for Max and told him to be sure to lie next to Rafe to keep him warm. The horses were dozing, and when I pulled back my own blanket, I found Gerald curled up *119 *25*.

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Cheryl Brooks there, already fast asleep. Nudging him aside, I lay with my back to Leo, leaving him to spoon up against me for warmth. Much as I wanted to make love with him, I didn't have much hope of that with Rafe so close by. I wondered sadly if we'd ever have the chance again, and was beginning to doubt that we would.

Not long after that, Rafe got up to put more wood on the fire, and I sent the flames leaping higher with a quick glance before snuggling down to sleep. When I heard Rafe begin snoring a short time later, I was fairly certain that Leo was asleep as well.

Until, that is, I felt him move closer and push my clothing aside. The contrast between sitting on a bedroll in the snow and then having the heat of his body pressing against my bare skin was shocking, and when he thrust his cock between my thighs, it felt quite hot, indeed.

My body responded with an immediate gush of fluid that probably drenched him, though he was already dripping with that slick, intoxicating moisture of his own.

I wanted nothing more than to have him inside me, warming me from within.

I could feel as well as hear him purring when he grasped my hips and pulled me back onto his stiff cock.

"You don't feel the least bit cold to me," I whispered.

"In fact, you feel hot as fire."

"I was...convincing?" he inquired, nipping my earlobe gently with his fangs before teasing it enticingly with the tip of his tongue.

"Very," I replied. "In fact, you had me a little worried there for a while-and Max was, too."

"I am sorry to have caused you any distress," he said gently. "I will apologize now."

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I started to assure him that he didn't need to be making any apologies, but wound up gasping, instead, as the first of many orgasms shook me, rendering me speechless.

Then he began to move, bouncing me quietly against his groin, sending shock waves running throughout my body. My mouth dropped open, panting in amazed joy as he took me higher and higher, washing away all the tiredness and pain from my body and my soul.

After a bit, Leo stopped bouncing and pulled me tightly against himself, burying his cock deep inside while he swept my inner walls with the ruffled head of his penis. I put a hand over my mouth, trying desperately not to moan, or scream, or make any sound that might give us away. Of course, his purring was probably doing just that-no matter what I did. It was a loud, persistent roar as he continued to lick my ear before moving on to my neck while caressing my nipples with his fingertips.

Reaching between my thighs, he teased me mercilessly, all the while moving his cock inside me, setting off wave after wave of mind-numbing pleasure, prolonging the effect, stimulating, delving, until I was sure I could take no more. When at last I heard the swift intake of breath that signaled his own climax, I relaxed into him, just waiting for it. He exhaled slowly as he came, spurting deep inside me, loading me up with a dose of orgasmic thunder that hit me like a bolt of lightning. I must admit, I didn't even feel the after-effects, going out like a light until the sun came up.

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Chapter 6.

Morning brought with it another day for our quest, but as luck would have it, one that was destined to be fraught with frustration and indecision. The forest seemed ominously silent-I didn't even hear any birds chirping when I awoke-and to make matters worse, Leo had lost the scent.

It wasn't merely faint anymore, he said, it simply wasn't there. The wind had changed during the night, and what traces he had been able to catch before had all been blown away. We had never been following an actual trail, for the snow would have obscured any tracks our quarry might have made, and that scent had been our only guide. Gerald reported that he hadn't found any squirrels that knew anything at all, which did nothing to help me decide which direction to take.

While Leo cast about for the scent, I fixed breakfast and waited for the inevitable display of anger from Rafe-which never came. It was possible that Rafe wasn't worried, because he assumed that where Leo's ability might leave off, my own would kick in-which it might have done if I'd actually seen any animals to talk with. Still, the fact that he wasn't displaying any anxiety made me think that, despite his apparent need for our help, he could have made a good guess as to which direction to take on his own. He'd already admitted to having been this way before and had known what lay *122 *26*.

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ahead, and I began to suspect that perhaps he knew more than he was saying, not only about who had taken the boys, but why. However, he said nothing to confirm my suspicions, so it was obviously going to be left to me to find some other means of tracking the boys.

As I packed up my gear after breakfast, I decided that, with no other animals about, what we needed was a bird-a big, high-flying bird that could see for miles and could tell us what direction to take. I had tried in the past to talk with the birds near my home, but they were a wary lot, and I had yet to make what I would call a friend of one of them. They had no problem eating the food I threw out for them, but whenever I stepped outside, they would flutter off just as if I'd screamed at them.

I'd never been sure whether they simply didn't trust me enough to listen, or were unable to grasp the idea that the thoughts I was sending to them were actually coming from me. I might have envied their ability to fly, but I certainly didn't envy their brainpower, and I've already mentioned what a waste of time it was to talk with an otterell.

But I knew I should try again, or we might never find the boys. My mother had never mentioned any enhancement of her powers after she found my father, but finding the one had changed my grandmother-or so I'd been told. Her greatest gift had been reading the thoughts of humans. She was better at reading my mother than anyone else-not surprisingly, since her power was apparently unleashed with my mother's conception. There was the slightest chance that, having found Leo, I might become better at...something. Gerald's attitude toward me was certainly different, and while *123 *26*.

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Once mounted and ready to travel once again, Rafe simply looked at me and asked, "Which way?"

To which I replied candidly, "I have absolutely no idea. Other than the fact that we've seemed to be headed in a fairly straight line to the east, I couldn't say."

"Couldn't, or wouldn't?"

This surprised me, even coming from Rafe. "I would tell you if I knew," I said evenly, doing my best to contain my anger. "I simply do not know."

"But you found that other child," he said accusingly, his own anger now coming quickly to the surface. "Why can you not look into the fire and see where my sons have gone?"

"I didn't see it in the fire," I began, exasperated with him for continuing to harp on that subject. "I just-"

"Tell him to shut up, and I'll take you in the direction we need to go," Morgana said suddenly.

"You know?"

"Yes, I know," she said.

"How?"

"I can smell their horses," she replied.

"Why didn't you say anything before?"

"You seemed to be doing fine without me until now,"

she remarked. "But the big tomcat doesn't have as good a nose as I do."

"Well, that's good enough for me," I said gratefully.

"Lead on."

Morgana moved off through the snow at a slow, heavy trot, leaving Leo and Rafe behind with the packhorse.

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Sinjar began to make a move to follow us, but Rafe curbed him sharply. I heard the stallion's grumbling protest and turned in the saddle.

"Follow me," I said over my shoulder. "I can see it now." I wasn't sure exactly how a real seer would have put that, and thought I ought to work on my dramatic presentation, but they followed me without much hesitation, anyway.

"No fire this time?" Rafe inquired with a smirk as he rode up beside me.

"No fire," I said firmly, though I'll admit I was sorely tempted to start one-on the seat of his pants, perhaps- but Sinjar wouldn't have been pleased. It occurred to me that Leo had, perhaps, imprinted the wrong scent before we started, though, in truth, the boys had been the only choice we had.

"When you were following the scent, could you smell their horses?" I asked him.

"No," Leo replied. "The horses we are riding would interfere."

"Hmm," I remarked. "Interesting..." By that, I could only assume that Morgana had been right about having a better nose-or perhaps I should say, a better nose for following horses.

We had been following Morgana's lead for some time, when, with a loud flap of its wings and the resultant shower of snow, an enormous bird took flight just ahead of us. I didn't see that we had much to lose, so I sent a call out to it.

Now, I will say this, if you've never seen a bird do a double take in midflight, let me tell you, it looks pretty *125 *26*.

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"Who spoke?" the bird said, circling back around to make a pass above us.

"I did," I replied, waving at the bird. What Rafe thought about that was anyone's guess, though perhaps he thought I was warding off falling feathers or bird droppings.

As the creature settled in the branches of a tall hemlock tree ahead of us, I could see what it was. We had always called them vultures, since they were carrion eaters like those on Earth and were comparable in size, but the resemblance ended there. While the true vultures had been rather ugly birds with scrawny, naked necks, these were actually quite beautiful.

The females are normally a dull, grayish blue, but the males wear deep purple plumage during the winter months, and, in spring, turn a lovely shade of lavender. Added to that, their feathers have a metallic sheen that reflects the sun so brightly it almost hurts your eyes to look at them. Their delicately streamlined heads are equipped with large, keen eyes and are set upon graceful, slender necks even more aristocratic than Carnita's. They had always been very rare in my corner of the forest, so I'd never spoken to one before and had only been able to catch fleeting glimpses of them.

I hoped this one would be smarter than the average bird-the fact that he heard me call and had responded immediately spoke of a more intelligent nature than most-either that or my " bird voice" really had improved. I reined in Morgana and stared up at the beautiful creature.

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"Ah, one of the interlopers," he said. "Go warily through this forest, for dangers abound."

"I can believe that," I remarked. "Have you seen others of our kind pass through here in the past few days?"

"Yes," the bird replied. "I have seen others."

"With young ones?"

"Yes. There were two young ones." The bird paused, making an odd cackling sound. "They would have been good to eat."

"I'm sure they would have," I said, trying to sound gracious, but it took all I had to suppress a shudder of revulsion. Then I remembered that carrion eaters don't kill. "They weren't dead, were they?" I asked anxiously.

"No, they were living." The vulture ruffled its feathers and settled on its perch. "Pity."

"Yes, well, we would much prefer them to still be alive,"

I said briskly. "Can you tell us where they are now?"

"I could, I suppose," the vulture replied. "It might be to my advantage."

"And how is that?"

"They were in a company of well-armed fighting men. In battle, you would be no match for them, there- fore, they might kill some of you."

"And?" I prompted.