Wolf Shifter Diaries: Lies Tamed (Sweet Paranormal Wolf & Fae Fantasy Romance Series Book 2) by E. Hall (books for men to read TXT) 📗

“I’m not opposed to the trip, but want to make sure we get there,” Corbin replies.

“I wonder how much a bus ticket costs,” I say absently.

My mother huffs. “Rhonda will make it.”

Corbin doesn’t budge.

“The protection of the Accord spell is lifting. People are dying. We have to find Greyson and hope that he can lead us to the Klave so we can stop them from turning our world into a beast feast. I’ve seen enough movies that suggest what would happen if our kind is exposed. No matter how powerful we are, scientists will pick us apart, study us, try to use us for weapons of war. Who knows? If stopping that means taking this jalopy, then so be it,” I say in one long breath that’s threaded with desperation.

My mom gives me a reassuring smile.

“Okay, fine,” Corbin says. “Let’s go.”

He’s been kind of dreary today. Maybe that’s because we’re far from the pack and heading into uncertain territory. I prefer to think of it as an adventure. Sure, life, death, and the future of the human and magical races may hinge on our success, but still, it’s exciting. Maybe that’s just my father’s influence. I can’t deny I have a feeling we’ll find him.

My mom gives me a new phone—I didn’t tell her I killed the girl that broke my old one—obviously, that wasn’t the reason, but it sounds like something I could still get grounded for.

“Bahia Magia isn’t going to show up on the GPS. But I programmed an address in that will get you close. After that, you will have to tap into the magic in the area. You’ll know you’re on the right track when you spot the rainbow made of stars and surrounded by the moon.”

“That’s not much to go on,” Corbin says.

“You’ll know it when you see it,” my mom says.

After packing up the rest of the pizza, hugs, double and triple hugs, and my mom insisting that we take half the contents of the pantry, we step back into the late afternoon sun, destined for the west coast. I haven’t felt this kind of promise and hope since I realized how much I love Corbin.

My mom dangles the keys to Rhonda the Honda.

“Don’t worry. I’ll give her plenty of go-go juice and wipe her mouth if she drools.”

My mom laughs. “Don’t forget to fluff her ruffles too.”

We hug around my giggle. For a second I don’t want to let go because a tiny part of me knows that when I do, this trip and everything after it will become more real.

Corbin reluctantly gets in the passenger side, and I get behind the wheel. My mom closes the door for me and leans on the frame.

“I’ll let you know as soon as we find out anything.”

She nods and for possibly the first time in my life, she looks sad. Jackie Slade mostly has only one setting: fierce.

“Be safe.” She waves at us, a lone figure in a dark jacket in the center of the parking lot until I turn onto the main road. I glance one more time over my shoulder, but she’s gone. Nervous and excited in equal measure, I wiggle in my seat.

I prop the new phone on the center console even though I don’t need instructions on how to leave town. “It feels good to be back on familiar soil,” I say.

“Even though we’re leaving in this.” Corbin’s expression is grim like he’s still questioning whether the minivan is roadworthy.

“Don’t worry, I have roadside assistance,” I say.

“Should I ask what go-go juice is?”

“Oil. There’s a small leak. But listen, I learned how to drive in this thing, we’ve gone to all the national parks on the east coast, Canada once, and used it to move house seven times. I have full confidence that Rhonda will make it for the next sixty-two hours.” I point to the blue highlighted line splitting the country that will take us to Mexico on the GPS. I pat the dashboard. “Don’t listen to him, you’ll do just fine,” I whisper to Rhonda.

“Talking to the car?” Corbin asks.

“Just giving her a pep talk. Anyway, this road trip together is a once in a lifetime experience. Bucket list material for sure.”

“Once in a lifetime is right,” Corbin says. “Let’s make a plan. We’ll take the wheel in shifts, only stopping for the bathroom and hopefully avoiding traffic and construction.”

“Sounds good,” I say as the minivan thunks over a pothole. “I won’t miss these weather-beaten roads. Rhonda is going to like the sun and sand in Mexico. I’m still wrapping my head around my parents going on a honeymoon to a secret place for magicals. Have you ever heard of it?”

“I’ve heard of places like it—not quite a resort the way humans think of them. More like a sanctuary. A haven, if you will.”

I gaze at the city lights and familiar sights as we drive away from Portsmouth. “Being back here, where the world as I knew it was, well, normal, with pizza and libraries and movie theaters, when I now know that the fantastic, bizarre, unusual, and otherworldly is real, feels kind of weird,” I say as we put miles behind us.

“Just think, to me this world is fascinating if not a little boring,” Corbin says using our wolf way of communicating to highlight his point.

“I’ve always been a daydreamer. I secretly wanted to study creative writing. Maybe pen a novel—I wrote a short story about dragons. If someone had asked me if magic was real, I might have said our imaginations are a magical force in this world. How wrong I was.”

As I merge onto the highway, a disagreeable cah-thunk, followed by a glug, glug issues from somewhere in the guts of the minivan. “I