They shifted and ran toward the road. Cricket slowed them down, but he didn’t give a damn. As long as she was with him, he wouldn’t mind crawling on his belly to escape.
Nik lengthened the distance between them. He turned and commanded, “Cricket, turn human and ride on Slade’s back.”
Panting, she nodded, shifted and climbed on Slade’s back. “Good idea.”
Slade grinned and ran at full speed. The feel of her soft naked body hardened his cock, making him wish they could stop for a quickie.
In the dead of night, they arrived at a small sheep farm. The sheep ran and bleated, threatened by their presence. Odd, no sheep dog. Cricket slid off Slade’s body. “Before we wake the farmer, I’ll hotwire that pickup truck over there.” She ran naked behind the barn to the parked vehicle.
Slade snarled. “Wait.” He shifted to his human form and caught up.
She opened the truck’s door. “There’s no time.”
Slade opened the back door and found an extra-large soccer ball t-shirt. “Put this on, before Nik gets here.”
“I am here, comrade,” he grinned, giving her a wolfish glance.
Get over it, comrade. Cricket slipped on the oversized t-shirt that covered down to her knees and then returned to hotwiring the car. It turned over, too loud.
A light in the cottage went on.
Slade scoffed. “A werewolf sheep rancher.”
“Talk about a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” Cricket adjusted her oversized t-shirt and rolled down the window. At least it hid most of her assets from the attentive Russian werewolf and her not so pleased alpha lover. “Jump in!”
Slade sat in the front seat. Nik shifted to wolf form and leapt into the pickup’s bed.
Full tank. Cool!
The lycan, an omega, sprung out of the house, rifle in hand and shot several rounds.
Cricket floored the accelerator, and they peeled out of the gravel driveway and reached the
main road. After five minutes, she pulled over and texted Rylee. “Done.”
Slade pulled out a beat up map and then scanned the area. “Any idea where we’re going?”
“Not sure, but as far from Wolf Lair and the research facility as possible. I told Rylee to destroy the research facility.”
“What are the coordinates?”
Cricket relayed them to Slade, started the engine then drove back on the road.
Slade stared at the map. “According to this map and the coordinates, we’re in the Fitz Roy, Patagonia area. Near the southern border of Chile and Argentina.”
“Practically the south pole.”
“Puerto Natales. A town with a port.”
She handed him the phone. “Call Rylee. Tell her we need pick up.”
“Got it.” He dialed the phone. “Good reception, bars up.”
Rylee immediately picked up. “Cricket?”
“It’s Slade, ma’am.”
“About time. I take it Cricket is at your side.”