Page 28 of Taming His Vampire Mate
Shaking my head at his thinly veiled threat, I said, “Yeah. I’m ready. And it’s just going to be us. Lindsey and Reed are going back to the commune.”
“Delightful,” he replied, his tone suggesting the opposite. “Feel free to take as many wrong turns as you like on the way to Rookwood. I trust you know how to use the GPS on your phone? If, that is, you have a phone?”
I bristled, but he wasn’t far from wrong. I’d only bought a new one earlier today, before the council session. Lindsey had insisted on a way to reach me that didn’t involve hiking through miles of forest.
“We’re werewolves,” Lindsey told him flatly, arching a brow. “Not Amish.”
“Splendid.” Thierry’s smile was wide and every bit as cold as the rest of him. “Then I won’t have to worry about driving slowly.” His gaze flicked to me, and I could have sworn I saw a flash of fury in his eyes. “I’m looking forward to having you all to myself.”
With that, he turned on his heel and strolled to a shiny black sedan parallel parked across the street. He popped the trunk, tossed in his duffel, then slid behind the wheel without a backward glance.
“Huh. On second thought,” Reed said, watching him thoughtfully, “I might not have anything to worry about. Seems pretty likely he’ll rip your throat out the first chance he gets. I probably won’t have to challenge you.”
Thierry rolled down his window. “You know, Jeremy, it’s far easier to drive once you’re actually in the vehicle. And the faster we get this over with, the quicker I can be rid of you for good.”
“Why does everything coming out of his mouth sound like a death threat?” Lindsey asked.
“It’s not all about you, pal,” I murmured under my breath.
“Don’t be daft,” Thierry called coldly, looking right at me. He was fifteen feet away, with no way he could’ve heard that. But then he added, “Of course it is. I always get exactly what I want. No matter who or what gets in my way.”
Without waiting for my reply, he turned the key and sped off.
“Reed might be right,” Lindsey said, watching his taillights. “Not all vampires are jerks, but he sure as hell is.” She glanced over, met my gaze, and frowned. “He’s giving off major would-leave-you-in-a-ditch vibes. Be careful around him.”
“That’s the plan,” I sighed. I pulled open the door to my SUV and climbed in. Then I rolled down my window. “Call me if the bleeds start.”
Lindsey gave me a sharp nod. They stepped back. I put the car in drive and followed Thierry.
Any half-hearted hopes I’d had that Thierry was different from what the pack had always taught about vampires were crumbling fast. Lindsey might be right. Maybe not all vampires were cold-blooded, unfeeling monsters.
But Thierry? Yeah. I was pretty sure he was.
Though, maybe that was for the best. Because true mate or not, there was no way in hell I was ever falling for him.
CHAPTER NINE || THIERRY
The gas station was wrecked.
Six hours and more than four hundred miles later, I was feeling deeply, spectacularly annoyed. I hadn’t slept properly, which didn’t help my mood. The fact that the wolf had managed to keep up with me was another factor. He’d been right behind me the entire drive, much to my dismay. I hadn’t even been able to speed the way I wanted, because I had no intention of arriving before sunrise. Which meant I’d spent the whole trip south and west to the Oregon coastline—almost to the California border—constructing elaborate, highly amusing sequences in my head about how I might dispose of the wolf, should he ever dare harm me or anyone else.
Again.
“Lordy,” Jeremy said, stepping through the doors behind me. “This place is a mess.”
He wasn’t wrong. One shelf lay on its side, spilling brightly colored bags of candy and chips across the yellow tile floor. The glass doors of the refrigerated case—with a direct line of sight to the register—were shattered. Half the glass glittered on the floor. The other half clung to the frame in a spiderweb of cracks. The refrigeration unit made a horrible grinding noise, and the faint smell of gunpowder lingered in the air.
“Let’s just get this over with,” I said tightly, not looking at him.
I stepped deeper inside, silent. Rounding the counter, I saw a display of Bigfoot-themed novelty key chains knocked over and lying on the ground. It had probably sat next to the register, which was now knocked askew. A shotgun lay abandoned nearby. A plastic container had tipped over, spilling cured beef sausages everywhere.
Jeremy came to stand beside me, peering down behind the counter. “Robbery, maybe?”
I shot him a narrow-eyed glare, exasperated. Nothing about this suggested a robbery. “The drawer is still closed. And whoever worked the counter tried to defend themselves with the gun and missed. The shot went there.” I pointed to the damaged case.
“Oh.” He looked sheepish. “Right. Yeah, that makes sense.”
Rolling my eyes, I turned my attention back to the scene before me. The keychains, the skewed register, the scattered sausages… Each clue painted a dark picture of what had happened. The gas station attendant, who had probably been kicking wildly, likely got dragged over the counter by someone or something.
