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“Do me a favor,” I tell her, looking back up. “Don’t tell Cheryl teleporting made me puke.”
“I wasn’t planning on mentioning it,” she says. “I’m guessing Cheryl doesn’t use that ability a lot?”
“I’ve only had to do it once or twice, and I was never invisible or unprepared for it before it happened.”
“Sorry,” Rachel says. “I didn’t have a way to warn you. That’s totally on me.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her, wanting to forget it now.
The waitress takes her time, which gives me the chance to feel less queasy while starting to worry that she’s setting us up for a trap. The longer we wait, the more it feels like we could be about to be found out. Rachel doesn’t seem too concerned, but I see the relief in her eyes when the back door to the restaurant finally opens.
The waitress steps out and locks the door. “The cook’s still cleaning the kitchen. We’ve got about fifteen before he comes out here.”
“Then, let’s get moving,” Rachel says. “We have to stay hidden, so you won’t be able to see us, but we’ll be with you the whole way back to your apartment.”
She nods, looking apprehensive. “A spell?”
Rachel nods. “I’m a witch. I was bitten. That’s how I became a hybrid shifter.”
“I thought there was something different about you,” she says. “We don’t have any hybrids here.”
“Well, we can talk about them on the ride out of town,” I say, anxious to get the hard part over with.
“We’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” Rachel confirms. “We should go now.”
The waitress nods. “It’s this way.”
She gets moving. Rachel invokes the spell again and takes my hand before it vanishes. I stumble a little, unable to keep my gaze fixed forward. Rachel keeps me from smacking my face off the ground, thankfully. The last thing I need right now is a broken nose. I feel crappy enough.
We follow Georgia past the diner, deeper into the town with the dark secret.
I can’t help worrying that a trap will spring.
This place isn’t safe. The people here operate under the orders of an Alpha who uses and abuses their women instead of protecting them. There’s no way in hell strangers would be treated any better. We need to get back home before they realize we didn’t leave.
Chapter Sixty-Two
Cheryl
Oscarguzzlesdownafull can of soda in one long, thirsty gulp before he sets the empty down on the coffee table. He sits a little straighter and lets out a sigh.
“Okay, I’m definitely not still asleep and talking to ghosts.”
“Talking to ghosts?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.
“You don’t want to know, trust me.” He runs a hand through his hair. “My mind is seriously messed up these days. My wolf has strange ways of trying to communicate with me.”
“You think your wolf is trying to connect with you in your dreams?”
“Maybe,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I’m not so sure I want to connect with him. Not after…”
“Dreams are a form of meditation,” I tell him. “It’s perfectly possible he’s trying to connect with you that way.”
Probably because Oscar’s rejected him in his conscious mind. It might be the only way he can reach him.
“I don’t know,” he says, shrugging.
He doesn’t want to talk about it. Too bad we’re running out of time.
