Page 305 of Secret Shifters Next Door

I glanced out the window, and even as I went over a hundred miles an hour, a couple of signs flitted by. “Umm, I’m passing the old out-of-business gas station out on Route Four. Do you know the one? Heading toward Dad’s house.”

“Miles? Let’s fucking go!” he shouted away from the phone, then returned. “I’m coming. We’re not far away.”

Without another word, he clicked off and I was back on the line with Dad. “Ava? Are you still good?”

I nodded to myself, then said, “Yeah. I’m scared, Dad.”

As though to put an exclamation point on that, one of the sedans rammed into me. My tires, already spinning at over a thousand RPMs, skidded and I had to clamp the steering wheel between my sweaty fingers and adjust to keep from flying off the road.

“Dad? Daddy, they’re ramming me. I can’t keep this car under control if they keep doing that.”

“Son of a bitch!”

I could hear how angry he was that he couldn’t be there. Was too sick to be out helping me. I trusted my uncles with my life, but he was desperate to be the one swooping in to save me.

Up ahead, the sign for the Lilly Valley city limits loomed. It should have been a beacon of light, a warning sign that I was getting close to help. Closer to Blayne, closer to my dad. Instead, a big black van came careening around the corner. It pulled across the road and slammed to a stop, completely blocking my path.

I had one second to decide to crash through and kill myself along with the men inside, or to slam on the brakes to try stopping my speeding car.

I chose the latter and jammed both feet onto the brake. The tires screamed and screeched in protest. One of them burst with the sudden deceleration, and the car started fishtailing. First left, then right, my adjustments on the steering wheel not doing anything to keep the car from going wild. Finally, it spun sideways and tilted up on two wheels, tipping up and almost over whatever fulcrum was controlling the chaos.

Thankfully, I didn’t flip. Instead, after pausing in the air for what felt like minutes, the car crashed back down onto its three good tires.

My breathing was erratic and gasping. I’d stopped literal feet from the van. My phone had flown across the car and been busted against the windshield. My dad’s voice no longer called to me from the car speakers. I was on my own.

The men were getting out of the van and the car behind me. Adrenaline squirted into my system. I could almost feel the actual burst of the chemical surging into my blood and rushing to my brain and heart.

Two men rounded the back of the van, waving their hands at me to get out and screaming at me. My panic-addled ears were unable to make out what they were saying. Two more men approached from the back and started yanking on the door handles.

“Get out! Get the fuck out, bitch.”

“No!” I screamed, not knowing what else to do.

The men in front of me trained their guns on me, and I had a moment’s thought that I could try and run them down. Before I could attempt that, one of the men at the doors slammed the butt of his gun against my passenger side window, busting it out in a shower of glass. He was reaching in to unlock and open the door when I heard the growls.

All four men spun and saw a huge inky-black panther stalking toward them. Beside the panther was the largest wolf I’d ever seen. Blayne and Miles.

A relief so great I almost couldn’t stand it rushed through my body, bringing me to tears.

“Shifters!” a man shouted. “Back up. Go on, get away!” He motioned toward Blayne and Miles with his gun.

“Goddamned abominations,” the man at the door hissed.

He raised his rifle.

Fear coursed through me. “Blayne, watch out!”

The gunshots rang out, staccato in the afternoon. I was absolutely certain they’d been hit. I was wrong, though. Watching through the window, I was amazed how graceful the two were. Blayne and Miles moved even more elegantly than wild animals would have.

As the bullets erupted from the guns, the two shifters dodged and dived away, almost like they knew where the bullets were going to be. Blayne leaped up, pressed his paws into the side of the van, and leaped off the car, slashing down toward one of the men with his claws. He caught the hunter’s gun hand. The gun went flying in a spray of blood as four deep gashes appeared on his arm, going all the way to the bone.

The guy clutched his hand and screamed. Miles somehow dodged a barrage of seven or eight bullets and snapped his jaws onto the ankle of the man who’d first opened fire. He fell and dropped his gun. Behind the van, the sound of another engine came roaring toward us.

The other three men scattered, running to their cars and van, leaving their friend at the mercy of Miles and Blayne. As the men peeled rubber, they revealed the source of the other engine. My uncles Sam and Luis had jumped from their car and were running toward us. Sam pulled a pistol out and fired the full clip at the fleeing van. If he hit anyone inside the car, I couldn’t tell.

My door flew open and I almost screamed until I saw Blayne leaning in toward me. He’d shifted back to his human form and was running his hands across my face, shoulders, and legs. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“I-I-I-I…” I couldn’t speak. My breathing wasn’t right, and my heart was racing.

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