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As I neared the SUV, the sense of danger—of wrongness—hit so hard I stumbled and would have fallen had Monty not grabbed me.
“You okay? What’s wrong?”
“Sensory hit.” I swallowed heavily and held out the car keys. “Let’s just get in the car and leave.”
He grabbed the keys from my hand, then caught my arm and escorted me around to the passenger side. While the force of wrongness had eased, it nevertheless continued to wash across my skin, making it twitch and itch.
Something had happened.
Something bad.
I shivered and reached for the hot chocolate sitting in the middle console. It was delicious, even if no longer truly hot, but I couldn’t help wishing it held something stronger. But alcohol of any kind was off my imbibe list for the next eight or so months.
Monty jumped into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and then drove off. “Where are we headed?”
I ran my psi senses across the still strong wave, looking for some indication of a location. “We need to do a U-turn and head down to Blackwood.”
Blackwood was a small but historic gold mining town that sat at the northern end of the Burennberg State Forest. It was a rural area, and had few facilities other than a pub, a couple of lovely cafés, and a holistic health provider. The four hundred or so people who lived there generally drove to Ballan for everything else—although according to a very chatty customer who came to our café on a weekly basis to collect his supply of cakes and slices, Ballan’s bakery just didn’t have the same range of cakes ours did.
Blackwood was also one of the reservation’s border towns, and I didn’t believe it was a coincidence that whatever I sensed had hit the one surefire place within the reservation there would be little chance of crossing paths with a werewolf. They certainly patrolled the area, especially in the summer months, as the Burennberg State Forest was a popular tourist and hiking destination, but it was after one in the morning, and most tourists weren’t stupid enough to wander around a forest well known for its rugged features and deep gorge.
“Blackwood is a strange place for evil to be hiding,” Monty commented.
“I don’t think it’s in the town. I think it’s in the nearby forest.”
“Of course it is. I mean, why would things be easy for a change?” He paused for a beat. “Should we call the rangers?”
I scrubbed a hand across my eyes. “Probably.”
He glanced at me, expression sympathetic. “You want me to do it?”
“I’m tempted to say ‘definitely’ in answer to that.”
“There’s a chance Aiden won’t answer. He did mention something about splitting the on-call hours tonight so that everyone could have some run time with their pack.”
“Which doesn’t mean he’d share the load evenly. The man is a workaholic, and he would have nominated for more than one shift.”
“You can’t keep avoiding him, Liz. It’s not fair.”
“I know. I just—”
“Want him to declare his feelings before he finds out about the pregnancy,” Monty cut in quietly.
I shifted in my seat and stared at him. “Belle told you?”
“Not in so many words, but she did mention you puking several times during our phone calls while you were all up in Canberra. It’s not hard to put two and two together.”
“Here’s hoping Aiden isn’t so good with arithmetic, then.” I grimaced and added softly, “Is it really so bad to want a declaration of some kind before he finds out?”
“Of course not, but by the same token, you’ll never actually get that declaration unless you’re willing to meet with the man.”
I sighed. “I know but—”
“You’re worried the more you’re with him, the bigger the chances of blurting it out.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “When did you become so damn clever?”
He laughed softly. “I’ve had a year to get reacquainted with the way your mind works, and it’s been quite an eye-opener, let me tell you.”
