Page 88 of Conner's Luna

"One of the females we assumed had been kidnapped. She left her situation, which was a tough one, and hid out in Velia's sorority. She left her son behind when she ran away."

"Wow," I glance at the girl's face again. She doesn't look much older than me. I wonder what 'the situation is. "Where are you taking her?" I ask Conner. "Us?" I amend when I realize that we're driving somewhere in the dark, with only road and-

"Ey,Jefe! You ready to ride or you want to pole dance some more for your lady?" The jeer rings out through the dark, followed by raucous laughter.

"Shake it,cabrón!" another voice calls out. Men slink out of the shadows, some of them illuminated in the truck's headlights, others barely seen in the periphery. I would be frightened if I retained the capability of normal range of emotions right now.

Conner doesn't respond in the normal way by yelling back at them. Well... maybe it's normal for wolf-people. Instead, he growls, deep and threatening. Jurassic Park has nothing on this threatening snarl.

Wolf-people growl for real.

Wolf-people like to be naked.

Conner covers my eyes again. The laughter this time is muffled, and then everything else is drowned out by the sound of motorcycle engines revving to life. Headlights come on, and I realize that we are surrounded by bikers.

Conner takes his hand away and smiles weakly at me. "LoboGris wolves," he explains.

With hoots and hollers, more and more bikes spring to life. The noise is horrendous. Conner rolls his eyes, flicking off several of the bikers who rudely return the gesture.

I feel a blush. "All of these men were watching us this entire time. I didn't even know they were there!"

"They call LoboGris the shadow pack," Conner explains. "They're a bunch of secretive fuc-wolves."

"You said Uncle Mattie was in that pack?" I ask. I watch as three motorcycles dance on the road in front of us, playing a game of chicken with each other, passing within a hairsbreadth of splattering themselves all over the road. Somehow, I have trouble picturing Uncle Mattie as part of this group. Opposites attract, I suppose.

I hiccup and the tears start to fall again.

"Shh, honeygirl. You've done so well," Conner takes my hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing my knuckles. "How are you feeling?" he asks.

"Good," I whisper, just as inanely. I wipe my tears ineffectively as they continue to pour down.

"So, um, I know this was hard, baby. You're amazing, and," he swallows, "you're gonna meet my family tonight. OK?" A scent fills the pickup truck. Man-nerves. Conner is afraid.

He should be nervous. My tears start to fall harder. I met Uncle Mattie and Braxton, but Conner has a big family and I'm not sure that I want to meet all of them tonight.

"They're gonna love you," he tells me earnestly. "Everybody loves you, baby."

Except for Trey and Lydia, I tell him silently. My stomach pitches and rolls and, with a jolt of awareness, I remember the wolf in the road. It wasn't Conner, wasn't any of the boys. That wolf was much smaller, and there was something distinctly feminine about her. I don't know how I know, but I do.

My tiny hairs prickle with the unconscious girl in the backseat and they definitely did when I saw that wolf in the road. Conner and the boys don't cause that reaction.

"Is Trey a wolf, too?" I ask quietly.

The entire pickup swerves sharply to the left. I scream as Conner swears harshly before correcting the steering back to the center. A horn blasts on the left and one of the bikers signals for Conner to pull over.

To my surprise he does. For the second time in mere minutes, we end up idling on the side of the road. I stare at Conner as he glares straight ahead. He is white-knuckling the steering wheel. I watch his fists instead of his face. I'm not sure which is more intimidating, especially as his fingernails lengthen, sharpen, and turn dark grey. Claws. Conner has claws and orange eyes.

"He is," Conner speaks, his canines muffling his voice a bit. "I don't like his name coming out of that pretty mouth." Conner's head turns, his orange-yellow glowing eyes pinning me in place.

Suddenly his gaze softens. "Aw, babygirl. Don't cry. I fucking hate that prick, but he has nothing to do with you."

My tiny hairs are standing straight up. Electricity dances down my spine and I remember the first time I saw Trey. I felt that awareness, that sharp longing, like nothing I ever felt before.

I know Conner is lying to me. It's heavy in the air, lurking on my shoulders and making my skin literally crawl in a terrible prickling sensation. To make it worse, despite the whole wolf-people thing, I feel like this is the first blatant lie he's ever told me.

I let it go, for now. I need to pace myself, to get through this night’s revelations without losing what is left of my sanity.

"Don't," comes the croak from the backseat. "Alphason Trey is a good male."

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