Keeping Secret (Secret McQueen) - By Sierra Dean Page 0,34

that was taken care of.”

“This is about more than your vampire friend, Secret.” He didn’t look at me when he opened the back door of the car and stepped aside so I could get in. “I can’t refuse an invitation from the king when we are in his territory.”

I didn’t have anything sassy to say in reply. “Well…”

“Don’t mistake me. I’m not thrilled the vampire was here. And I will admit I’m glad this relocation puts us outside the influence of your…sect.” Here his voice lowered, like he was trying to handle his words as delicately as china.

“My council,” I corrected.

“Whatever.”

I grabbed his arm and dragged him into the car, slamming the door behind us. When I was certain the only person with us was Dominick, I fixed Lucas with a cold stare and made sure he knew I wasn’t putting it on for show.

“I don’t pretend to know everything about pack law, Lucas, and I never would, but don’t you dare talk down to me because you don’t have the slightest clue what goes on with the council. I make every effort to respect pack law, yet you dismiss something important to me like it’s meaningless.”

There was a cool, regal silence while he considered my words, and the temperature inside the car dropped several degrees as I waited for him to speak. In the front seat, Dominick drummed his fingers nervously on the steering wheel.

We were all silent.

“You’re right,” Lucas said finally. “I haven’t been fair to you.”

I’d been expecting more of a fight, so I was taken aback by his easy acceptance.

“But…”

Ah, there it was.

“But what?” I never liked “but” statements—they were just another way for a conversation to turn around and kick you in the butt.

“There is a difference between you respecting the werewolves, and my respect or lack thereof for the vampire council you so willingly serve.”

I jerked my chin up to signal him to continue.

“You are part werewolf and have the right and need to know what goes on in our society,” he said. “Whereas I have no desire to be any part of the vampire world.”

Chapter Seventeen

If there were a Girl Scout merit badge for sitting through uncomfortable silences, I would have qualified for it a thousand times over. Lucas and I sat on opposite sides of the backseat while Dominick listened to a crackling classic-rock radio station. “Freebird” twanged on, with brief static solos to change things up a little.

Lucas cleared his throat, and I shifted closer to the door, crossing my arms tighter over my stomach. I refused to look at him.

“Are you going to—?”

I turned, regarding him directly for the first time since we’d left New Orleans, and the move surprised him enough he stopped talking mid-sentence. Either that or my curls had turned into snakes and I’d transformed him into a statue.

“Where are we going?” My gaze was trained on Lucas but somehow Dominick understood the question was for him. Maybe because of the warmth in my voice.

“St. Francisville.”

“Where?” He might as well have told me we were going to Timbuktu for all St. Francisville meant to me.

This time Lucas spoke, forcing me to focus my attention on him for real. “We’re going north. St. Francisville is just beyond Baton Rouge.”

“And flying into the Baton Rouge airport was too obvious?”

“We couldn’t. It’s too deep into Callum’s territory. The only way we could have entered the state that close to his home base was if he brought us. If it had been an option, I think he would have had us land in Florida and drive all the way from there. The only reason we were allowed to go into a Louisiana airport at all was because we were invited.”

Winding the strings from my hood around my fingers, I looked out the window of the car and watched the light from small towns speed by in a glowing blur. The highway wasn’t deserted, but it didn’t feel like we were close to anything substantial anymore.

“Werewolves are fucking ridiculous.”

Dominick snorted, unable to stop himself in time. To try to hide the gaffe, he turned the volume on the radio up a little more. Eric Clapton crooned on about that coldhearted bitch, Layla. I was betting if I could read Lucas’s mind, he was probably thinking, Amen, Clapton. Amen. Instead of saying this out loud, he sighed his particular, regal sigh. “Then I guess that explains a lot about you, doesn’t it?”

My mouth hung open, and Dominick struggled to keep from laughing, but