Talon: Combat Tracking Team (A Breed Apart) (59 page)

He swung around. Saw the meaty jowls widen as the dog pawed air.

Cardinal fired.

Searing pain chomped into his hand at the same time a yelp erupted. The weight of the dog barreled into him and knocked him backward. The teeth came loose. The dog yelped again as he flipped onto all fours. He walked a wide circle around, away from Dane before collapsing on the ground, panting hard. Wounded.

Cardinal rolled, holding his bitten hand close. Two men sprinted after another—the colonel. Candyman threw himself into the back of the colonel. The two went sprawling over the cement.

A primal scream seared Cardinal’s mind. The third dog! Aspen!

    Forty-Seven    

T
he first dog slid to his death at her knees. Aspen fought the tears, watching as Dane went down beneath the second dog. It’d all happened in seconds.

But her focus was on the third. Horror gripped her as the beast tore up ground toward her. No way Dane could recover in time. No way he could save her. Not this time.

The Doberman sprinted. Front paws nailed the ground simultaneously with back paws, launching it forward. One bound. Muscles rippling. Eyes locked. Canines exposed. A second bound. A third. He went airborne.

Aspen curled in, as she’d been taught to protect her vital organs and leave the meatier—ugh!—parts of her arms to fend off the attack. No doubt this dog wanted all the meat he could get. She loved dogs, but stopping these killers pulled the plug on her nice tactics.

Weight rammed into her side. She braced. Pressure clamped onto her arm. Pain exploded. She cried out. Fought. Kicked the dog. Punched with her other hand. The dog snarled and caught Aspen’s shoulder. She screamed. Punched him.

“Aspen!” Dane’s shout was loud but not close.

A blur flashed in front of her.

Thud!

A yelp clapped through the air. Turned to snapping and snarling.

Barking.

Aspen looked over her bloodied shoulder. Heart in her throat, she watched. “Talon!”

He tackled the Doberman. They rolled and flipped. Snapping. Biting. Barking. Vicious and primal. Terrifying. Aspen scooted back against the corner of the crate, keeping her right arm close to avoid jarring the bites in her forearm and shoulder.

On its feet, the Doberman paced. Snapped.

Talon unleashed one of the mightiest barks she’d ever heard from him. Then another. Front paws spread, head lowered, hind quarters up, he took an attack position. Another demonesque bark. The Doberman paced, trying to come around and flank Talon, but her guy matched him, step for step. Only then did she see the blood around his neck.

Tears sprung to her eyes. He saved her! All those months training, working with him. She wasn’t sure he had it in him anymore. But there he stood. Facing off.

The dog turned and trotted to its wounded compatriot and slumped down.

Talon growled one last warning to the two dog-thugs then turned to Aspen.

Wrapping her arms around him, she buried her face in his fur. Cried. Sobbed. “Good boy,” she said, over and over. “Good boy.”

Dane slid to his knees beside them. “Aspen! You okay?”

With a laugh-cry, she nodded. “Yeah. He saved me!” She assessed his injuries and knew they were not terrible. A few bites, but they weren’t bleeding much. “I’m so proud of him.”

Talon swiped his tongue along her cheek then plopped over her legs, as if to say, “All in a hard day’s work.”

    Epilogue    

H
ow long will it take, Aspen?”

Pulling her gaze from where Talon bounded after the ball, Aspen peeked around one of her curls at her brother. “I don’t know, Austin. I’m trying.”

He looked down and gave a nod. But thick frustration betrayed him. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve said that about a thousand times.” She rubbed her shoulder, the visible injuries gone but the invisible ones, the aches in her bone and mended muscles, still hurting. “Finding you has helped Talon heal.”

She smiled as Talon trotted to the water trough, dropped his ball on the ground, then lapped some water. With winter approaching, he wasn’t worn out by heat. And the PTSD symptoms were diminishing.

“I think fighting for you is why he healed.” Austin stuffed his hands in his pockets.

She eyed him. Quite a concession.

Leaves crunched and rocks popped in the drive, luring Aspen’s gaze to the car sliding into view. Her heart tripped. Dane! The sun glinted off the windshield, stopping her from seeing him, but she waved all the same as she started that way. “Come on. He’s finally here.”

Talon trotted to her side and followed her out of the training yard.

Timbrel stepped out onto the porch. “’Bout time you decided to show up,” she shouted as soon as the car door opened. “Food’s cold.”

Dane glanced up at the house but said nothing. In fact, he looked…not pleased.

“Hey you,” Aspen said, her breathing a little heavy as she hoofed it up the slight hill to his sedan. “You okay?”

A smile tugged at one side of his mouth. “Yeah.” He stepped around the door and reached for her hand, drawing her closer. He kissed her. Swept a thumb along her cheek.

“That’s definitely the type of greeting a girl could get used to.”

“Can we talk?” His gaze bounced to Timbrel then back.

“Sure.” Aspen motioned beyond the house. “What’s wrong?”

“Hey, Cardinal.”

Dane’s jaw muscle popped as his eyes went to Austin, who made his way up the hill to the house. He gave a curt nod.

Aspen touched his face. “Hey, what’s eating you?”

“He’s dead.”

She blinked. Her mind hopscotching over those two words. “Who?”

“The colonel.”

She widened her gaze and drew back. “I thought he was in prison, in the pink of health.”

“He apparently had a sudden decline.” His lips flattened.
Livid
was the word that came to mind.

“Dane, what are you saying?”

“Everything that I’m
not
saying.” He leaned back against the car.

“You think someone killed him.”

“I
know
someone killed him. I just don’t know who or why.” He scratched the stubble along his jaw. “A man like the colonel…people wanted him dead.”

“I mean no disrespect, but in the months since St. Petersburg, you’ve told me many times you were afraid he’d get free.”