Page 15 of Brock’s Mate

Come on, she told herself. We just need to make it back to the house.

But she knew in her gut that wouldn’t be safe either. If Jered had her new phone number, then he knew what name she was using, and he would have her address too.

But she had to go back. Her cash, her IDs, everything was there. In and out, grab it and go.

If she could just hold it together long enough…

She couldn’t.

The nausea overtook her and she had to pull over. She opened the car door, spilling out of the driver’s seat onto her hands and knees, the frozen grass on the shoulder of the road crackling underneath her.

She vomited up all her Cajun ribs and fries, and then just kept vomiting until she was empty and shivering. The churning darkness washed over her, along with a deep, ravening hunger.

She felt like her body was tearing apart, all her bones shattering. She could faintly hear dry ‘pops’, like thick sticks breaking, and then there was pain and darkness, and she didn’t remember anything more.

Chapter 6

Brock caught a quick glimpse of Desi as she drove her car out of the parking lot and turned right, away from town.

She’d had she sense to park near the entrance. Damien had parked Brock’s car near the back, and it was partially blocked in. He had to lift the other car’s damn back end out of his way so he could pull out. Yay for shifter strength.

At least he’d thought to get his keys back.

He sped out of the parking lot and turned the same direction Desi had gone. This was a country road and there weren’t any major intersections for awhile—with any luck he’d catch up with her before she turned off.

If her wolf took control—and she didn’t crash the car and hurt herself—she’d probably head for one of the farms again. If humans were on the alert for a wolf or wild dog, it could get ugly.

There were a lot of hunting rifles in this part of the world, and probably a lot of people who were pissed off at losing their valuable animals.

He’d only driven for about five minutes when he saw Desi’s car pulled over on the wrong side of the road, near an ATV trailhead. The headlights were still on and the engine was running, but the driver’s door was open, the interior light showing no one sitting in the car.

Dammit. Either she was passed out, or she was gone.

He parked in the pullout on the other side of the road and dashed across. He could smell the vomit before he got there, and next to the noxious puddle were Desi’s partially shredded clothes.

It had been a bad Change for her.

He was going to have to go wolf—and he didn’t know how the hell his wolf was going to handle this. He was angry and riled up, wanting to control Desi’s wolf, wanting to make her submit, just wanting her.

A bad mix. But he couldn’t find Desi fast enough as a human, and he needed his wolf to deal with hers.

Just don’t attack any humans, he begged his wolf.

You don’t listen to me, why should I listen to you?

This was going to be a cluster fuck.

He bundled up Desi’s things and put them in the back seat of her car, then turned off the lights and the engine and locked it, taking the keys with him.

He jogged back to his own car, tossing the keys on his front passenger seat by her phone, then retrieved his gun and an electronic tracking device from the glove compartment. He planted the tracker on Desi’s car. After that he stripped down, leaving his clothes stacked with the sweats he always kept in his back seat, just in case. Placing the gun on top of the pile, he locked his keys in the car.

Keyless entry was a gift to shifters, if you were going animal and couldn’t carry your keys. All he had to do when he got back was punch his entry code into the keypad under the door handle.

Brock Changed to his wolf and cast around for Desi’s scent. He picked it up right away, leading from her car across the road past his own car, and on up through the woods along the ATV trail.

Hoping he could pull this off without anyone fucking dying, he started off after his stray wolf.

She wasn’t hard to follow. She was fast, and angry, and hungry, and she wasn’t trying to mask her trail. It probably hadn’t occurred to her that anyone would try to track her by scent.