something to do with that collar around your neck?”
I tense, but I don’t give in to his prying questions, and he stops asking them, grumbling about his swollen eye. Eventually, he takes a road off the highway, like we’re heading toward the mountains, and my apprehension grows.
I have no idea where he’s taking me, and being trapped like this in the back of his car...it brings back the feeling of being stuck with Kaazu. My heart pounds against my chest, and my animal hisses inside of me, thumping her tail in aggravation.
Swallowing hard, I rip my eyes away from the window. “Take me to the end of town. I promise to cross city lines and never come back,” I tell him.
He doesn’t answer me, and my panic blooms like a weed, inching up from the pit of my roiling gut. “Where are you taking me?”
“There’s another pack—”
“Fuck no!” That panic inside of me bursts, and I slam my hand against the divider between us. “I didn’t take anything! Just let me out!”
No matter how much I yell or promise or bribe or threaten, he ignores me, his car kicking up dust along the dirt road as we head further away from town and toward the woods.
I can’t go to a shifter pack. They’ll take one look at my collar, and they’ll find out from the shifter council who owns me. They’ll turn me in, probably with a cash reward, and I’ll be back in Kaazu’s clutches.
When I see a fenced compound in the distance, fear slips between my teeth and makes my mouth go dry. “Listen to me,” I say beseechingly. “If you take me to a shifter pack, at best, they’ll immediately challenge me. I’ll have to fight for a place in the pack, probably multiple shifters at a time, and as much as I love a good fight, I’m hungover as shit right now. I’m going to get the shit kicked out of me.”
“No, you won’t.”
Fury flickers down my veins. “Fuck you. You have no idea what it’s like to be a shifter, let alone a rogue. Let me the fuck out!”
“Trust me. This is for your own good.”
He pulls up to the gate and rolls down his window as the intercom scratches to life. “Mac? What brings you here?” a male voice says.
The cop leans an elbow out the window. “Sorry to disturb, but I need Hugo. Got a situation.”
“Alright. Gimme a minute.”
The intercom goes dead, and I go quiet. With the window down, all kinds of scents are filtering in. There are so many that it’s overwhelming. This isn’t just a small pack who lives here. There are way too many scent signatures around. And judging by the tall fence with barbed wires at the top and the intimidating guard tower to the left, this place is organized.
I don’t even want to know what kind of predator shifters live here. If there are as many of them as I think there are, then my only chance is attacking them as soon as they open the door. Then I’ll make a run for it. Not the best plan, but it’s all I’ve got.
Way too soon, the gate suddenly buzzes, and then it starts sliding open to reveal a line of shifter guards standing in front of us, all of them focused on the police car.
Officer Mac looks over his shoulder at me. “Thanks a fucking lot,” I snap.
He sighs before throwing open his door and getting out.
He walks up to the guards as another male approaches, this one not in the same uniform as the shifter guards. He crosses his arms as Mac talks to him. I’m guessing this is Hugo.
I can’t hear what’s being said, but my eyes don’t leave the line of guards, and their eyes don’t leave the car. Both male and a couple females, they’re all dressed in the same black cargo pants and black shirts with boots.
My lips press into a thin line. Any hope of getting away just dropped to about a five percent chance. There are way too many of them.
Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna try.
But then my eyes snag on a familiar male with dark hair, muscles, and the jawline of the century. Holy shit. It’s the dude from the library, the one who made fun of my book choices. He’s a goddamn shifter?
Fuck you, air freshener, for spilling all over the damn place and covering up every scent imaginable. Today is not my day.