Page 15 of Brandon’s Mate

Kitty’s wolf whined, Brandon needs us. Are we there yet?

Sheesh. Does it look like we’re there? There’s nothing but trees.

At that moment the GPS lady said brightly, “You have arrived.”

Seriously?

Kitty hit the brakes and coasted gently to a stop at the side of the road. There was still nothing but trees wherever she looked, their lower limbs dripping with kudzu vines. Leaves rustled in the breeze, dappling the road with dots of sunlight.

She picked up her phone. “I have not ‘arrived,’” she informed the GPS, glaring at the screen. She flipped her hand around and held the phone face out, panning over the area like there really was a little tiny GPS lady inside it, and she could see how wrong she was. “Do you see a fucking town? No you do not.”

The phone remained obstinately silent, and Kitty resisted the urge to throw it at the nearest… wait. Was that a signpost?

She got out and walked over to it. It was a signpost, tilted way over and almost covered in kudzu.

Sticking her phone in the back pocket of her jeans, she leaned over and started ripping at the vines until she uncovered the sign.

Welcome to Farville. Population 762623548 497

Each number was crossed out and the new one amateurishly painted on. The last one had three bullet holes in it.

So either somebody was unhappy about the town’s shrinking population, or they’d just gone ahead and shot everyone who was left.

Sheeyit.

Somewhere nearby, a harsh caw broke the silence. Kitty jumped. “Go away,” she muttered. “Do you have any clue how sick I am of looking at fucking crows?”

She raised her voice. “Hear that?” she shouted into the rustling forest. “I’m sick of fucking crows. And do not piss me off, because I’m already in a very bad mood.”

There was another caw, and a huuuuuuge crow flapped over and perched on a thick limb about five yards down the road.

Whoa. She’d never seen a crow that big. Shifter?

They stared at each other. His eyes looked mean. Well, she was mean too. And she was not scared of crows.

Kitty’s back pocket suddenly vibrated, and the hoot of an owl came from the vicinity of her butt. Dammit. That asshole Remy had been messing with her alert tones again.

Her butt hooted again, and the crow cackled like he was laughing. Kitty gave him the finger.

She dropped the kudzu and fished out her phone, smearing the screen with smushed vine juice. It was a text from Remy.

Where tf are you?

Kitty sighed. The three of them had caravanned back from Idaho together, her in the Catalina and the twins in Colt’s truck. She’d kind of ditched them when they stopped at a motel overnight. Partly because she’d had another fucking nightmare and couldn’t get back to sleep.

And partly because they’d been busy getting laid at the time. She was not getting laid. Not fair.

She typed her reply:

Have almost reached the ass-end of nowhere. Where tf are *you*?

Remy: Why didn’t you wait for us?

His twin Colt chimed in. Because of course they were both in the conversation.

We can’t help it if our truck broke down

His text somehow managed to sound aggrieved. Colt could be such a drama king—even when he had no room to complain, like now.