Page 28 of Broken Kingdom

I nod. “Hammer just got there a little while ago. He has your mom with him as his prisoner. We’re pretty sure he’s going to try the same thing Jean-Paul was planning with you.” I explain to her about the spell and the sacrifice of a shifter with phoenix blood. By the time I’m done Layla is off the phone and turning around in her seat.

“We fly out at nine-thirty,” she says. “Commercial because it was faster to buy tickets than to try to get Maxim’s private plane up here from New York. Hermione’s already on her way to Wyoming and will send someone to pick us up when we land. She bought tickets half an hour ago. She was that sure we’d make it out alive with Juliet in tow. Nice to know at least some of the wolves around here have faith in the little guys.”

“Little schmittle,” Catherine says, pulling up to the drive through at a place called Meatless Marvels. “How many veggie burgers each? I want two and a giant side of sweet potato fries.”

“Three for me,” Layla says. “And normal fries.”

“Same,” I say, before turning to Juliet. “What about you?”

“Five, please,” she says, bobbing a shoulder when I arch a brow. “Breathing fire burns a lot of calories.”

“I fully support five veggie burgers,” I say. “Just wasn’t sure you had room in your stomach for that much at once.”

“I’ll make room,” she says, glaring into the distance as Catherine rolls down her window and gives our order. “I don’t want to run out of fuel before I give Hammer what’s coming to him.”

“I would ask if you’re sure you can turn your own dad into a crispy critter,” Layla says, “but Ford told us what he did to you. Both of you. I’m so sorry.”

Juliet’s gaze softens as it settles on Layla. “Thank you, but I’m not. If he hadn’t been who he was, we wouldn’t have become who we are now.” She glances up at me. “And I like us. Especially you.”

“Aw, I ship you guys,” Layla says, reaching a hand back to Juliet. “And I’m so glad you’re here. Missed you.”

Juliet squeezes Layla’s palm. “I missed you, too. It’s so good to be among friends again.” She sits up straighter. “Which reminds me, there was a woman in the Montreal pack who risked her life to help me escape. Her name’s Madame Duval. Can we contact someone to ask that she be treated differently than the rest of the Montreal pack prisoners?”

“Sure thing.” Layla releases her hand and picks her cell up again. “I’ll text Hermione. I’m sure she’ll know who to reach out to about that.”

Catherine pulls forward and points to the clock on the SUV’s dashboard. “So, it’s seven-thirty and we’re about thirty minutes from the airport. I think we should head straight there so we have time to make it through security, but we’ll need to stop at a store on the way and get clothes for Juliet and probably backpacks or small suitcases for everyone, so we don’t look suspicious, travelling without luggage.”

“I’ll see what I can find that’s open and on the way,” Layla says.

Twenty minutes later, we’ve filled Juliet in on all the developments in her absence and put a serious pounding on our giant bag of food and Layla’s three pineapples.

Juliet finishes her fourth veggie burger just as we pull up to a Canadian Tire not far from the airport.

“Apparently, they have clothes and backpacks and things other than tires,” Layla says as Catherine cuts the engine. “But I’m not sure what kind of variety we’ll find. What are you in the mood to wear, Jules?”

“Just something comfortable and easy to move around in,” she says, since she obviously can’t head into the store in nothing but a towel. “Sweatpants and a t-shirt maybe? And a sweatshirt, too. It can get cold in Wyoming at night, even in the summer.”

“Got it.” Layla shifts her gaze my way. “What about you, Ford? Any preferences on what we grab for you for a bag and extra clothes?”

“Nope, I trust you,” I say, wrapping my arm around Juliet and drawing her closer to my side, grateful for a chance to have a few minutes alone with her, even in a Canadian Tire parking lot.

“Got it,” Catherine says, opening her door. “And we’ll get more snacks, too. Just in case.”

As they head toward the store, Juliet rolls up the top of her food bag and tosses her remaining fries and burger onto the seat beside her. Then she turns to me and asks, “How do you feel about mustard breath?”

“I feel really good about it,” I say, wrapping my fingers around her waist as she straddles me in the back seat.

And then her lips are on mine and her fingers are driving into my hair and the world is right again.

She’s here, she’s mine, and I’m never letting her out of my sight again.

Sixteen

Juliet

His lips are everything.

My fuel, my comfort, my reason for keeping up the fight.

---