on a laugh, swallowed it hard, then blinked innocently up at Corb. “Corb? Your cousin asked you a question.”
He shot me a look, and maybe it was the way I was smiling at him, maybe he could tell I really didn’t care who tickled his fancy as long as he was happy, but he relaxed and some of the tension went out of the air. “Some days, Alan. Some days. Depends on my mood.”
Alan slumped in his seat. “Bree. I can’t take this. My cousin just came out of the closet, and I’m sitting next to a naked gay werewolf who keeps looking at me.” I wanted to laugh at him because I wasn’t even sure Sarge could see him.
“I can’t. I just can’t do this!” Alan whispered.
“Yes, well what would you like me to do about it?” I asked. “These are my friends, the people who are my family now, and I love them just the way they are.”
He sighed and shuddered. “Put me back in the bag.”
7
That discussion about sexuality was the highlight of the drive to Montgomery, and after that, things really did quiet down. It was late, closing in on midnight, and now that Corb’s tension had eased off some, he seemed to be controlling his magic better. Or at least enough that we could all breathe a little easier.
Now that my libido was no longer tormenting me, fatigue set in even stronger than the bruises I could feel blooming all over my hips and butt from my dash along with Sarge. Finding a comfortable spot was harder than I’d thought it would be. But I leaned my seat back and slept—fitfully, but at least I got some rest. At one point, Corb reached across and took my hand, once more tangling my fingers with his. Not a bad way to sleep. I’d slept—and I mean that in the literal sense—with him before, and he was warm and smelled good and was nice to curl up with. Despite his overprotective tendencies, he meant well. Far better than Alan ever had.
But if I compared him to Crash . . .well, that’s where things got murky in my semi-asleep state. If Crash hadn’t been around at all, I was pretty sure Corb and I would have moved on to the next level, and our sleeping together would not have been so platonic. His magic sang to me in a very different way than Crash’s did. They were like night and day, fire and water, and not just in a metaphoric sense. Which was why it was so hard to choose between them. Especially when I was alone with one of them and the other was far away.
“Never mind. Not now,” I mumbled, not really awake, not really asleep. Time for men later. Surviving and dealing with a missing gran was first on my to-do list. The demon’s master had taken her somewhere in New Orleans for reasons I didn’t understand. Yet. I would find out if it was the last thing I did. I cringed at my own thoughts as if I were jinxing my efforts. No need to think about dying, not anytime soon. I needed to focus on things I could control. Like searching for Gran.
When I was a girl, Gran had taken me to New Orleans to meet some of her coven friends who didn’t live in Savannah. Most likely a few of the witches would still be kicking. I hoped. Maybe?
I had my reasons for the gas stop in Montgomery, although I didn’t understand them. It was one of those nudges from my gut. A ripple of memories long since forgotten. We approached the first exit, and Corb glanced at me. I waved for him to keep going, then pointed adamantly at the next one. “Here, this exit.”
His only answer was the engine of the Mustang revving down a gear, then another and another as we slowed.
“Any particular reason you wanted to get fuel here?” Corb said as he pulled into a gas station off the interstate. He hadn’t said it with a tone, but it was clear he was still kind of annoyed I’d taken over his “rescue.”
I looked at the station. “No, not this one, keep going.”
Corb’s jaw ticked as he kept the car moving down the street. “What are you looking for? I don’t even need to fill up. I’m at half a tank.”
I just shook my head. “Keep going,” I said again, my eyes sweeping the area. Like an image