Savannah

I fetched my car keys, which I’d hidden in the wheel well, and unlocked the door to my Fury. A cool breeze prickled my skin as I glanced around the empty parking lot. For the past week, I hadn’t been able to shake the feeling of being watched.

It’s just nerves, silly.

The leather of the front seat was warm under my thighs, sending another wave of shivers through me.

My phone binged. A text from Casey: Grabbing drinks with Zar at the Hideout at 7pm. Bring your ass.

“Sorry, Case, I’ve got a date with my bath and bed,” I muttered, slipping the keys into the ignition.

A dark shape shifted in the passenger seat, and my heart seized.

“What the hell!” I jerked toward the door, hand ready to unleash a bolt of magic at the man who was sitting beside me, staring ahead.

He slowly turned his head toward me, and I froze as recognition dawned—the bastard who’d attacked me at the Tap House. Correction, the dead bastard.

Bile rose in my throat. He can’t be here.

Crimson blood trickled from a wound on his forehead, and I swore I saw the tread mark from my tires on his neck.

Not freaking possible.

“Watch the road,” he said. Then he disappeared.

I blinked twice at the empty seat beside me, then craned my neck around, but he was gone.

“Shit.” I was either seeing ghosts or losing my mind, and I wasn’t sure which scenario was worse.

I started the car and pulled out of the lot and onto the narrow road that led through town and to the highway back toward Chicago. I rolled down the front windows, hoping some fresh air would clear my head. Darkness settled over the tree-lined road, and I squinted at the three piercing lights that appeared in my rearview mirror.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Slipping it out, I noticed Casey’s name on the screen before I answered. “I’m not coming, Casey, so forget about it.”

“Aw, come on. Do you have something better to do?” my cousin asked.

“Yeah. I’m driving back from the Indiana Sand Dunes, and when I get home, I’m taking a hot bath.” With a pound of Epsom salts and a bottle of wine to ease the aches of my mind, body, and soul.

It’s going to take a lot more than that, my wolf said.

I glanced in the rearview mirror again. Those lights were closing in. Three motorcycles, by the looks of it.

“What the hell is so interesting about the sand dunes?” Casey asked. “You’ve been out there several times this week. Have you joined a bird watching group or something? Meeting a secret boyfriend?” There was a pause on the line, and then he continued in a hushed voice. “Shit, Savannah. Don’t tell me you’re with Jaxson—”

“No! Are you crazy? I’ve just needed some space to process all the crap that’s happened over the past month.”

That, and I’m a werewolf now. Surprise.

“I get it. You do you, and if you need a shoulder to cry on, I’m here for you. Always.”

Even if you knew what I’d become?

An awkward lump of emotions climbed up my throat, and I swallowed sharply. “Thanks, Casey, but I’ve got to go. I’ll see you later.”

I ended the call and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. The bikers were still on my ass, and their lights were almost blinding.

“Pass me or back the hell off,” I muttered, adjusting my mirror up to block the glare.

As if in answer, one of them pulled around to pass, the other two holding back. The man was riding a chrome Harley Davidson cruiser, and wicked ink covered his muscular arms. As he passed, he cast me a look that sent chills skittering down my spine. If his golden eyes weren’t proof enough, his massive build told me everything I needed to know: he wasn’t human.

What now?

He pulled in front of me and slowed down just as one of the other bikers came around and closed me in on the right. The bastards were trying to get me to pull over!

Memories of my car chase with Billy flooded my mind, and anger blossomed under my skin. I shifted the Gran Fury into fourth gear and pressed my foot into the accelerator. I wasn’t the same girl I’d been three weeks ago.

The Fury rocketed forward and grazed the fender of the asshole in front of me. His motorcycle swerved, but he regained control and sped up, keeping a wider berth.

“Pull over, or you’re going to end up in a ditch!” the biker on my right shouted. He was also covered in tats and solidly built, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was trying to hijack my ride, or God knows what else, he’d be hot.

“Like hell I am.” I swerved right, trying to ram him. Cursing, he careened away before my Fury clipped him.

Why was it that shifters kept trying to drive me off the road, steal my soul, and kill me?

Cause they’re dicks, my wolf said.

Exactly.

The headlights of an oncoming car appeared around a bend. I hit the accelerator again, narrowly missing the guy on the Harley in front as he lurched right.

Beeeeeeeeeeep, beeep.

The oncoming car laid on the horn but kept its course as the biker swerved off the road.

One down, two to go.

Heart pounding, I barreled down the empty road with two Harleys following in my wake.

I rounded the curve and squinted at the red flashing light a half mile ahead—a railroad crossing. My heart sank. The red and white arm was down, and the train’s white beams were visible.

Suddenly, a gunshot sounded behind me, and I instinctually ducked

Bam! The Fury jerked right, and I fought the wheel for control.

Thump, thump, thump.

Bastards shot my back tire out. Shit!

My car bucked as pieces of tire flew across the road behind me, followed by the grating of metal on asphalt.

Cringing at the damage I was causing my baby, I eased up slightly. The two bikers were still on my tail, but the fact that they’d shot my tire and not my head meant they wanted me alive.

A horn blared from ahead. The oncoming train was rapidly eating up the tracks. My heart clenched. Could I make it across?

It was going to be a close call.

Steadying the steering wheel, I gently increased the pressure on the gas pedal, silently praying that I didn’t wind up wrapped around a tree.

Another gunshot pierced the air but missed my car. Either that, or it was a warning.

The train’s horns blared again as it barreled forward. Come on, come on, come on. I gritted my teeth and held my breath as I closed the distance to the tracks.

I wasn’t going to make it. In a last, desperate attempt, I hit the accelerator. The metal of my bare wheel screamed on the asphalt, and deep pangs of regret tore into me.

The train’s deafening horn blared as the Fury flew through an intersection and then launched over the train tracks.

The car’s front tires hit the pavement first, and I barely managed to keep my head from smacking against the steering wheel before the vehicle swerved right and crashed into a stop sign.

The car stalled, and I leaned back in the seat, chest heaving, as I sucked in ragged breaths. The train rushed by, still blaring, but there was no sign of the bikers. Thank fuck.

I turned the ignition, and the Fury’s engine rumbled to life. I put her in reverse, then eased her onto the road. After about a mile, I pulled onto the shoulder just before the exit to the toll road to Chicago and turned off the car.

Closing my eyes, I summoned my magic. Cool pulses of energy moved through me like breakers rolling into the shore. I focused on drawing the darkness around me, and within seconds, the Fury and I were enveloped in shadows.

And then I waited.

Five minutes later, three headlights appeared down the empty highway. My nerves ratcheted up as the bikers neared. I’d been working on my mastery over shadows, but I’d never tried to conceal something as large as a car.

I held my breath and tried to still my heartbeat, focusing with all my strength on my magic.

I was certain it would fail or they would smell me, but the werewolf bikers didn’t glance my way—just continued down the highway, oblivious to the fact that I was parked on the shoulder.

I didn’t move. Not for three minutes. Not until I couldn’t even imagine I could hear their engines anymore. With a cautious and slow breath, I climbed out of the car and popped the trunk, pulling out a tire iron and a jack.

I knelt and placed the socket over one of the lug nuts and had to bite my lip.

My heart surged as memories of my mom teaching me to change a tire bombarded me. “Who are you going to rely on if you get a flat and you’re alone?” she’d said. “Yourself.”

I missed her so damn much, and there were so many questions I had for her. Questions that I needed answers to. Like what kind of Magica she’d been, and why she and Dad had kept this all a secret. Questions that I planned on asking Aunt Laurel and Uncle Pete once they returned.

Changing a tire while maintaining my magic shroud of darkness was as easy as rubbing your stomach while patting your head. Luckily, multitasking meant that I couldn’t dwell on thoughts of my parents. It had taken ten minutes, and the bikers hadn’t returned, so I slipped into the car and headed up the tollway in case they decided to round back. I’d definitely need to get my car checked out to make sure I hadn’t damaged the wheel.

Between the run and the toll of using my magic, I was exhausted to the bone and had to release my shadow shield. I wasn’t going to try multitasking while driving.

We better tell our alpha, my wolf said.

“The hell we should,” I murmured, squeezing the steering wheel until my knuckles stung. And he wasn’t our alpha. We weren’t pack.

Still, I knew she was right. A part of me ached to see Jaxson again, but I also knew that I couldn’t trust myself to think straight around him. Whether it was our fated mate bond or the fact that he was six feet of pure man hunk, if I saw him again, I knew exactly what would happen. I’d had a taste of heaven, and like a kid in front of cake, I’d definitely want a bite.

A bite? You’d want to eat it all, Wolfie said.

I ran a hand through my slightly damp hair, sighing audibly. I was so screwed.

Grabbing my phone, I dialed Jaxson. It’d been a week since we’d last spoken, since I’d last seen him. A painfully long week.

The phone rang three times and went straight to voicemail. Seriously? I shot daggers at my phone and threw it back on the seat. He was ignoring me?

That’s not ironic at all, my wolf said snidely.

She was a sarcastic bitch but not wrong.

Forty-five minutes later, I pulled into one of the only empty parking spots a block down from Eclipse. My nerves were shot, and my annoyance at actually having come here only made me more determined to replace Jaxson. After all, I had to ask him if he knew anything about those biker werewolves. This had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he’d ignored my call, nor that I was itching to see him again.

I spotted Jaxson’s new truck in the back alley, and my pulse quickened. I was so screwed.

There was a line out the front of Eclipse. I recognized the beefy bouncer, and apparently, he remembered me, too, because he opened the door for me and stepped aside as I entered.

It was still early, but the bar was quickly filling up for a Thursday. A rock band was playing tonight, and revelers crowded around the stage while thirsty patrons flocked to the bar. No sign of Sam.

I gave a quick glance around to make sure nobody was watching, and then I slipped through the Employees Only door. I’d been down this hall a few times before, and my nerves thrummed from panic or exhilaration, I couldn’t discern which. Luckily, my annoyance at Jaxson ignoring my call trumped it all.

I twisted the doorknob of his office and stepped in. “After giving me crap about not picking up the phone, you have a lot of nerve—”

My stomach dropped as I took in the room of shocked faces staring back at me.

Jaxson stood before a monitor with a colorized map of the upper Midwest. He was wearing blue jeans and a tailored black shirt, the sleeves rolled up around his thick forearms.

“Damn,” I whispered as he turned toward me.

Judging by the look on his face and those of the other ten people in the room, he was pissed.

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