Someone’s been hunting her.
I push through the medical center’s front door, and the scent hits me immediately. Vanilla and something floral, maybe jasmine. My wolf perks up, interested despite my attempts to stay detached. She’s human. Getting involved with humans always ends badly, and after what happened with the League for Humanity, the pack is still recovering from that particular disaster.
Patricia’s voice drifts from her office. “—wonderful credentials, and honestly, we’re desperate. When can you start?”
“I… I’m not sure.” That’s Fern, sounding uncertain. “My car won’t be ready for a few days, and I don’t have anywhere to stay.”
“The staff cottage is available,” Patricia replies. “It’s small but comfortable. Fully furnished. You could move in today if you wanted.”
“That’s very generous, but—”
“Think about it.” Patricia’s chair creaks. “Ruby, can you show her the cottage? Let her see what she’d be getting into.”
Ruby appears in the hallway, and Fern trails behind her. When Fern sees me, her mouth opens in surprise. Her eyes are blue, I realize, a blue so pale they’re almost gray. Like a winter sky before a storm. Her ash blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail that’s coming loose, and strands frame a heart-shaped face with high cheekbones and a full mouth that I absolutely should not be staring at.
She’s curvy in a way that makes my hands itch to touch, to map the dip of her waist and the flare of her hips. The jeans she’s wearing hug her thighs, and her blue sweater clings to breasts that are frankly distracting. Everything about her screams softness, from the gentle roundness of her face to the way she holds herself like she’s trying not to take up too much space. Like someone taught her that being smaller, quieter, and less visible was safer.
My wolf likes her. More than likes her. Wants her.
Down, boy. Human. Remember?
“Oh, good,” Ruby says when she sees me. “You made it.”
“I need to talk to Fern. About her car.”
Fern’s face tightens. “Is it bad?”
“Can we talk somewhere private?”
Ruby glances between us, then nods. “Use the break room. I’ll wait out here.”
The break room is small, with just a table and a few chairs, and a coffee maker in the corner. Fern sits and folds her hands on the table like she’s steeling herself for bad news. I stay standing and lean against the counter. Distance seems wise right now, given how much I want to crowd closer to her, to surround her with my presence until she feels safe.
“Your timing belt didn’t break on its own,” I explain, watching her reaction. “Someone cut it. Just recently, judging by how quickly it snapped.”
The color drains from her face. “What?”
“Someone sabotaged your car,” I repeat. “Any idea who might want to do that?”
She opens her mouth, closes it. Her hands tremble before she flattens them against the table. “I… No. That’s crazy. Why would anyone…”
“Fern.” I crouch beside her chair so we’re at eye level. Bad idea, because now I can smell that vanilla jasmine scent even stronger, and I can see the pulse hammering in her throat. See the way her pupils grow larger when I get close. “I need you to be honest with me. Is someone after you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Where are you coming from? How long have you been on the road?”
She looks down at her hands. “New York. Three days.”
“And you’ve been driving this whole time?”
“Sleeping in my car, mostly. Rest stops.” Her voice is barely audible when she adds, “I couldn’t… I didn’t want to leave a trail.”
“A trail for who?”
She wraps her arms around herself and doesn’t answer.
“Fern. Your car was sabotaged recently. Within the last day or two, based on how fresh the cuts are. You’ve been driving for three days with two suitcases and no plan. You can’t call friends for help.” I tick off the points on my fingers. “Someone’s making you run. Someone has been following you.”
