Five minutes later, three headlights appeared down the empty highway. My nerves ratcheted up as the bikers neared. I’d been working on my mastery over shadows, but I’d never tried to conceal something as large as a car.
I held my breath and tried to still my heartbeat, focusing with all my strength on my magic.
I was certain it would fail or they would smell me, but the werewolf bikers didn’t glance my way—just continued down the highway, oblivious to the fact that I was parked on the shoulder.
I didn’t move. Not for three minutes. Not until I couldn’t even imagine I could hear their engines anymore. With a cautious and slow breath, I climbed out of the car and popped the trunk, pulling out a tire iron and a jack.
I knelt and placed the socket over one of the lug nuts and had to bite my lip.
My heart surged as memories of my mom teaching me to change a tire bombarded me. “Who are you going to rely on if you get a flat and you’re alone?” she’d said. “Yourself.”
I missed her so damn much, and there were so many questions I had for her. Questions that I needed answers to. Like what kind of Magica she’d been, and why she and Dad had kept this all a secret. Questions that I planned on asking Aunt Laurel and Uncle Pete once they returned.
Changing a tire while maintaining my magic shroud of darkness was as easy as rubbing your stomach while patting your head. Luckily, multitasking meant that I couldn’t dwell on thoughts of my parents. It had taken ten minutes, and the bikers hadn’t returned, so I slipped into the car and headed up the tollway in case they decided to round back. I’d definitely need to get my car checked out to make sure I hadn’t damaged the wheel.
Between the run and the toll of using my magic, I was exhausted to the bone and had to release my shadow shield. I wasn’t going to try multitasking while driving.
We better tell our alpha, my wolf said.
“The hell we should,” I murmured, squeezing the steering wheel until my knuckles stung. And he wasn’t our alpha. We weren’t pack.
Still, I knew she was right. A part of me ached to see Jaxson again, but I also knew that I couldn’t trust myself to think straight around him. Whether it was our fated mate bond or the fact that he was six feet of pure man hunk, if I saw him again, I knew exactly what would happen. I’d had a taste of heaven, and like a kid in front of cake, I’d definitely want a bite.
A bite? You’d want to eat it all, Wolfie said.
I ran a hand through my slightly damp hair, sighing audibly. I was so screwed.
Grabbing my phone, I dialed Jaxson. It’d been a week since we’d last spoken, since I’d last seen him. A painfully long week.
The phone rang three times and went straight to voicemail. Seriously? I shot daggers at my phone and threw it back on the seat. He was ignoring me?
That’s not ironic at all, my wolf said snidely.
She was a sarcastic bitch but not wrong.
Forty-five minutes later, I pulled into one of the only empty parking spots a block down from Eclipse. My nerves were shot, and my annoyance at actually having come here only made me more determined to find Jaxson. After all, I had to ask him if he knew anything about those biker werewolves. This had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he’d ignored my call, nor that I was itching to see him again.
I spotted Jaxson’s new truck in the back alley, and my pulse quickened. I was so screwed.
There was a line out the front of Eclipse. I recognized the beefy bouncer, and apparently, he remembered me, too, because he opened the door for me and stepped aside as I entered.
It was still early, but the bar was quickly filling up for a Thursday. A rock band was playing tonight, and revelers crowded around the stage while thirsty patrons flocked to the bar. No sign of Sam.
I gave a quick glance around to make sure nobody was watching, and then I slipped through the Employees Only door. I’d been down this hall a few times before, and my nerves thrummed from panic or exhilaration, I couldn’t discern which. Luckily, my annoyance at Jaxson ignoring my call trumped it all.
I twisted the doorknob of his office and stepped in. “After giving me crap about not picking up the phone, you have a lot of nerve—”
My stomach dropped as I took in the room of shocked faces staring back at me.
Jaxson stood before a monitor with a colorized map of the upper Midwest. He was wearing blue jeans and a tailored black shirt, the sleeves rolled up around his thick forearms.
“Damn,” I whispered as he turned toward me.
Judging by the look on his face and those of the other ten people in the room, he was pissed.