Jonah leaned over and grabbed the phone. He didn’t recognize the number, but he answered it anyhow.
“What. The. Fuck. are you doing?” Shiloh growled in his ear, something thick and hungry and not particularly human caught on the underside of his voice. The adrenaline in Jonah’s blood brought the bad side of him out, and he briefly imagined that voice growling much dirtier things while they were both naked.
Silk sheets cool under them, the air salted with sweat or blood or both, and the weight of Shiloh on Jonah’s back as he pushed him down into…
The truck hit a pothole and jarred Jonah back to reality before he had to try and do it himself. He tossed his head irritably to dislodge the distracting fantasy. It was never going to be the time for that, anddefinitelynot right now.
“Nothing,” Jonah said.
“You lie like one of us,” Shiloh said. “But you aren’t. Look behind you.”
Jonah glanced around and saw the matte-black bike briefly flash its headlamp before it went dark again. He shrugged.
“Why ask, then?”
“Because I want to know why the fuck you’re doing it,” Shiloh snarled. “You’re going to start a war. Half the hex-slingers in Jerusalem are on their way here.”
Jonah grinned. It felt sharp and dangerous on his mouth—a Carrow grin.
“Like you said, I’m not one of you. I’m just trying to get through the night. Can’t hold that against a man.”
He hung up and tossed his phone into the back. The truck bucked under him as it hit a rut in the drive, and Jonah grabbed the wheel with both hands to wrestle it back under control. His arms hurt, and the back of his neck was sweaty.
When the hag appeared in the middle of the road ahead of him, he didn’t have a chance to avoid it.
