Liam was waiting for me once I got my clothes back on.

“I have donuts, breakfast sandwiches, and two boxes of Pop-Tarts,” he said as I made my way towards the car.

“Seriously? When did you get that?”

He shrugged. “I Changed about an hour ago.”

An hour ago the sun hadn’t been anywhere near up.

“What flavor of Pop-Tarts?”

A box came flying towards my head. I snatched it out of the air and looked at the label. “Hot Fudge Sundae? That isn’t a Pop-Tart flavor, it’s an ice cream treat.” I grabbed the already open box sitting on the hood of the car. “What’s this one?” I looked down at the words “Hot Fudge Sundae”. I knew my glare was nowhere near as impressive as one of his, especially since I couldn’t keep the corners of my mouth from lifting at the sight of his guilty expression. “Some of those donuts better have jelly on the inside,” I said, leaning back against the car, so close to him our sides grazed.

“A full dozen,” he assured me as I opened up the box emitting a sweet raspberry scent. “And there is even a half dozen of sprinkles.”

“But I don’t like sprinkles.”

“Oh yeah.” His grin was both shocking and breath-taking. “It’s me that likes those, isn’t it?”

This time I couldn’t even pretend to glare. “Let me guess, almost all those breakfast sandwiches you spoke of are cheese free?”

His grin grew and for the first time ever I was able to see a resemblance to Alex that went beyond physical appearances. “If you wanted cheese you should’ve Changed earlier and went with me instead of being a lazy sleeping wolf.”

“Sorry, Super Shifter, that isn’t in my nifty bag of supernatural tricks.”

“It could be.”

“Is this going to be another lecture--?”

“You know, if you would put a little more effort into getting control--”

We argued the entire way back. He was obnoxious and self-righteous. I was resolute and snarky. As the Houston skyline formed on the horizon, Liam made some ridiculous assertion, and I realized I was laughing for the first time in a long, long time.

Chapter 7

We arrived in Texas in a nice, respectable Honda Civic. We left in an asphalt-colored car the size of a modest yacht. I’m not sure, but I think the aim was to blend into the road, Invisible Jet style.

“The kids are going to miss you,” Diaz said as we were loading up.

“I’ll miss them, too.” The little demons had used the dark powers of cuteness to worm their way into my heart.

Diaz reached in his back pocket and pulled out an overstuffed envelope. When he passed it to me I noticed the bills were hundreds, not tens or twenties.

“What is this?” I asked, afraid I was getting ready to be asked to deliver a package filled with cocaine or semi-automatic weapons disguised as Elmo dolls.

“You think I don’t pay my nannies? You did good work for us. The kids love you. Xavier even says he's going to marry you.” Diaz grinned as if we were old friends. “His mama has been using it to get him to eat his vegetables. She tells him he’s going to have to get big and strong if he’s ever going to take you from your man.”

My man…? Oh. Yeah. Good thing we’re hermits. I would’ve totally blown that cover in less than twenty-four hours.

“Tell him I’m keeping my options open.”

As surprised as I was to actually get paid for a job I didn’t think was optional, Liam seemed more surprised when I added it to the stack of bills he got for what I chose to believe was changing tires and air filters. He tried to give it back, telling me I earned it, but I argued that he’d been my sugar daddy for months. The least I could do was throw what I had into the general finances.

Like before, our route held no rhyme or reason. I’m not sure Liam even knew exactly which direction to head each time we left a gas station or motel. Then again, maybe he did, since three days after leaving Texas we found ourselves in Cincinnati, crossing the bridge into Kentucky.

“Oh the sun shines bright on my Old Kentucky Home…” I sang under my breath, but had to stop when my throat closed up. It was stupid, really. Northern Kentucky is nothing like Lake County, but the Welcome to Kentucky sign might as well have said “Welcome Home, Scout!” for all my heart knew.

We pulled off once we got to the famous “Florence Y’All” water tower and found a gas station. I was forced to stay in the car, despite my overly full bladder, while Liam ran inside. When he returned he had a University of Kentucky knit hat and a map.

“Put this on,” he said, tossing the hat in my lap. “And you’ve been getting lax with the sunglasses. Don’t take them off again.”

I did as he asked, but pouted the whole time. The threat of being recognized had dropped drastically over the last few weeks. No one involved in the case was optimistic about my recovery, and with no new leads, the media moved on to the next big story. Currently they were all about some lady who tried to kill her husband because, according to her, he was an alien sent to destroy the earth.

“I look ridiculous. It’s a cloudy October day. No need for a hat or sunglasses.”

He didn’t respond, just studied his map.

“Where are we going? I can probably help.” When Jase and I were kids, Dad’s idea of a fun game was to memorize the location and county seats of all the counties in Kentucky. This is the sort of thing that happens when an educator is allowed to raise children. I found it ridiculous at the time, but now I can pretty much navigate my way across the state with just a few road signs as guides.

Of course, Liam didn’t think he needed my help, which meant we had to pull onto the side of the road to check his map more than once. We took back roads through Pendleton County (county seat Falmouth); Harrison County (Cynthiana); and Nicholas County (Carlisle). Once we passed into Bath County, I started getting nervous.

“Listen, I know I’m not always up-to-date with my Shifter knowledge, but I think we’re closing in on Matthews Pack Territory,” I said, referring to Talley’s father’s pack, who lived in the hills of Eastern Kentucky. “Unless you’re not telling me something about how they’re really on our side, I think you should reconsider trespassing. Those guys pretty much hate me.”

Liam, being Liam, only grunted in response. Over the next forty minutes I laid out several very reasonable arguments for why we should turn around, but he was either deaf or ignoring me. He didn’t say another word until we pulled into a packed-to-capacity parking lot somewhere in Red River Gorge.