Chapter 1

"How much longer are you planning to drive?" Rob slouched deeper into the passenger seat of my pickup.

"Till I'm ready to stop." I didn't look at him.

"Just asking, 'cause it's been twenty-five hours, and I don't want to die shoved up the ass of an eighteen-wheeler because you're too stubborn to take a break."

"I won't hit a goddamned semi." I eased off the gas a fraction to give the guy ahead of me more space. The beat of anger and frustration in my head wouldn't settle. No! Go back. Turn around now! Driving forward as fast as the road would let me was the only thing keeping me from listening to that voice.

"How about a meal, then?"

"We stopped at a drive-through already. And we peed and got snacks just a while back."

"If you count nine hours as ‘just.'"

"Nine…?" I checked the dashboard clock. Sure enough, time had gone by. When I sniffed the interior air, the smell of the wrappers in the trash had faded to a hint of pickle juice, salt-and-vinegar, and congealed fat. My wolf stirred, and for the first time, a push of hunger replaced the need to turn, to go back, to go home.

It's not home anymore.

I almost apologized to Rob for those hours, but I hadn't asked him to come with me. It was his own fault he wasn't back with the rest of the pack. No doubt they were having a party, a congrats-on-becoming-Alpha shindig for Sherman. Might even have roasted a pig, like we did last Christmas. Rob could've stuck around and enjoyed that instead of making a martyr of himself, tagging along with me.

Rob's stomach took that moment to complain, loudly, about how little he'd shoved into it recently.

"You sound like you swallowed a bear," I told him.

"I wish. Could eat a bear about now." He winced as his gut rumbled another long, gassy salvo, but straightened his shoulders and kept staring out the windshield, not pushing me harder.

I didn't have to be that much of an asshole. "I guess we could eat something." The highway sign ahead said, "Food, lodging, next exit," although the business names on the sign weren't any of the familiar chains of rural America. Still, "food" wasn't exactly ambiguous. I hit my blinker and moved into the exit lane.

Waiting for the next visible-from-the-highway McDonald's would've been a smarter move. The exit took us away from the main road on a curving two-lane blacktop between dense stands of trees. It was pretty country, if you liked unpopulated and rugged, which I did. But each new mile took me on more of a detour from my drive across the country. Not that I had anywhere special I was going— I was running from something, not to something— but the highway was straight and simple. This winding road wasn't.

When our course reversed again, I grumbled, "You think there's actually a town back here, or they just let tourists wander till they die and then eat them?"

Rob chuckled. "I reckon they'd have to be pretty bold to eat us."

I glanced at the man who'd been my Second for the last twenty years. He looked ordinary, a long, lean cowboy in worn jeans and battered boots, his dirty-blond hair needing a trim, his narrow face alight with amusement, but this was the man who'd helped me whip a warped and traumatized pack into shape. I'd seen him face down a much bigger wolf on sheer willpower. Hell, I'd seen him physically beat a man fifty pounds heavier into crying uncle and bowing his head in surrender. Rob had barely been breathing hard.

"You're right. Unless we keel over because there's no damned food and that sign was a lie—" I cut off my rant as we rounded another bend and a small roadside diner came into view. A scatter of houses and storefronts beyond suggested this might be the actual town. Didn't matter as long as the diner was open. We wouldn't be sticking around long.

I pulled into the lot and parked near the entrance. There were a couple of other battered pickups beside us, much like mine. When I turned off my truck and opened the door, a scent of gasoline from the nearest truck blended with a far pleasanter mix of pine trees and damp earth, French fries and baked bread.

Rob's stomach growled again and he grinned at me. "I smell fried food. Can't be all bad. Come on, Alpha, let's see if some carbs can put you in a better mood."

"David," I snarled. "Not Alpha." Never Alpha again. I'd made my peace with that, even if my wolf hadn't.

Rob sobered, dropping his gaze. "Sorry. David."

My name sounded odd in his voice. I didn't think he'd called me that in twenty years. Not since he was the first to step forward, put his hands between mine, and swear to me as his Alpha. We'd been young together once, Robin and Davey, but there was an entire ocean of water under that bridge.

I turned toward the diner, and he fell into place at my side.

Overhead fixtures, underpowered and fly-speckled, dimly lit the interior. Neglect, or to keep the patrons from seeing their food? I almost turned back, but the aromas I detected were wholesome— meat on a grill, rich and succulent, not burned.

"I could murder whatever burger that cook's frying," Rob murmured.

"Agreed."

A sign said, "Seat yourselves," so we moved between the empty tables to one in a corner, giving us walls at our backs. A booth in the rear was occupied, presumably by the owners of the two trucks, but we couldn't see more than the tops of their heads over the high seat backs.

We waited in a fatigued silence for a few minutes before a middle-aged woman came to take our orders. Both of us ignored the menu and went for three burgers each with all the fixings and fries. She eyed Rob up and down before writing his, since he didn't look like the kind of guy to put away that much food, but headed back to give the cook our tickets without commenting.

"I was born in a place like this," Rob said, glancing around. "Little Podunk town where everyone knew everyone. Back before Mom finally agreed to marry Dad and we ended up in your neck of the woods."

"Did you miss it?" We'd been a suburban pack, buying anonymity by living around lots of humans who ignored their neighbors, going out to the pack's backcountry retreat to really run.

"I didn't have good friends back there. Second night with your pack, I met you." Rob's gaze found mine. Something passed between us, older than recent decades as packmates, more than memories, a link I could remember jolting me to the core, the first time eight-year-old me accidentally knocked over the new kid in the pack.

"Yeah, you did." I aimed for lightness. "I knocked you on your ass, if I remember right."

"Yep, flattened me right off my feet. Never recovered from it, either." Rob's steady tone dared me to make something of that, but I wasn't ready, not yet. Maybe not ever.

"Where's the food? It's not like they're slammed for customers." I glanced over my shoulder. In that booth at the rear, I caught movement as if someone had ducked out of sight. Didn't matter. We wouldn't be staying.

"Give the damned cow time to stop mooing." Rob leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs. I'd have said it was an accident his shin rubbed against mine, except he had a werewolf's body awareness. That was no accident.

I didn't nudge him back. Didn't move my leg away either.

"So, I'm curious," Rob drawled. "When we hit the Pacific Ocean, you gonna stop or drive right on into the water."

"Fuck you," I muttered.

"Wouldn't say no." His voice barely reached my ears, small-town-America cautious.

I pretended not to hear. "I thought we'd stop in the mountains, maybe. At least for a while. Find a place to run and just hang out. No responsibilities. No pressure."

"We're in the mountains now," he pointed out.

"Barely." My wolf's demand to turn back and reclaim what was ours had blunted with fatigue and distance, but the urge was still there.

The server came up to the table with a laden tray. "Here y'are, three burgers apiece with the works, all the fixin's." She unloaded plates in front of us. The aromas of grilled beef and bacon, fries and ketchup, rose like the scent of heaven.

Manners be damned. I grabbed the first burger and shoved half of it into my mouth.

"You enjoy, now." The woman picked up the tray and headed toward the back.

Two burgers in, I slowed down enough to say, "How much do you think this place pays the cook, and can we outbid them?"

Rob chuckled. "You gonna stick them in the back of the truck and haul them along to wherever we wash up?"

"No. Guess not." I chewed a mouthful of fries. No ketchup. They were too perfect to need it. "Pity, though."

I was finishing the last dill pickle spear on my plates when my wolf alerted with a growl. "My truck!" I bolted upright and ran to the front of the diner as the familiar engine noise rose and receded. Leaping out the door, I was just in time to see my pickup vanish around a bend in the road. I whirled to Rob, half a step behind me. "Someone stole my fucking truck!"

My wolf wanted to shift and run after them, hunt them down, and punish the thief. Lethally. My human brain knew that even in fur, I couldn't keep up with a four-hundred-horsepower engine.

"You two gonna pay for your meal?" the server asked from behind us. "Or do I gotta call the sheriff?"

I whirled around. "Of course we'll pay, but we need the sheriff anyhow. Some bastard just took my truck right out of your parking lot."

She pointed to a battered sign. "Not responsible for damage or losses."

"I didn't mean you're responsible." I nodded to Rob. "Call nine-one-one."

"Sure." He was dialing before I realized I could've done it myself. Keeping the Alpha's phone free for pack emergencies wasn't a thing anymore. I wondered how many reflexes I'd have to relearn.

Rob reported an auto theft to the dispatcher, who told us the sheriff would be along soonish. I'd have pushed for a clearer time frame, but Rob thanked her and hung up. "Quit your huffing," he told me. "Yelling at her wouldn't bring him out sooner."

The woman said, "I'm heading back inside. You holler if you need anything. Don't forget to come on in and pay after. Or you could pay me now."

That made as much sense as anything. I peeled some bills out of my wallet and passed them to her, including a big tip. She eyed the amount. "We serve breakfast, if you end up stuck here. Open at six-thirty. Endless coffee. Come on by anytime."

Once the front door had closed behind her, I said, "I'm going to try to get a scent. Keep an eye out."

We headed over to where I'd parked, looking around as someone whose truck was suddenly gone might. I knelt to tie my sneaker and bent low behind the screen of Rob's legs to sniff the ground where the driver's door would've opened. Without my wolf nose, my senses felt dull and fuzzy, but I got a whiff of sweat and a hint of wolf, something vaguely familiar way in the back of my mind. "Well, fuck."

"What?" Rob held down a hand to me.

I didn't need the boost, but I took it for the momentary comfort of his fingers in mine. If that made me weak, well, I didn't have to be the perfect Alpha anymore. "Wolf," I murmured once I was upright. "Familiar, too. Someone I once knew."

Rob blinked and said in the same low tones, "Takes a ballsy wolf to steal an Alpha's truck."

"Or a desperate one, I suppose. Plus, whoever it was, my memory's long buried. He must've left the pack years before I became Alpha."

"They'd know just from watching you walk." Rob elbowed me. "Or strut."

"I don't fucking strut."

"Of course not, Alpha."

I stepped on his foot and he laughed. Then we both sobered and moved apart as a sheriff's brown cruiser pulled off the road and into the lot. The car stopped ten feet away and a tall, muscular man unfolded himself from the driver's seat, jamming a hat on his balding head. He walked over, eyeing me up and down. He was probably used to being the biggest guy around, but I had an inch or two on him. "What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?"

My grumpy ass wanted to lead with some kind of snark about his town greeting visitors by stealing from them, but one thing I'd learned in my fifty-three years was not to make trouble when I didn't have to, especially with the law. "I want to report a stolen vehicle."

"I'm Sheriff Frazer. Who might you gentlemen be?"

We introduced ourselves and I handed over my license while describing the truck. The sheriff scanned my details and photo with a sharp glance and a raised eyebrow, then took a long look at me. That was probably over the conflict between my date of birth and the fact that werewolf blood and frequent shifting kept me looking in my late thirties. Another couple of years and I'd need to revise my documents to take a decade or two off, as most werewolves did before we hit sixty. And that would be a challenge, away from the resources of the packs… Irrelevant now. Focus. I tried to look calm and unthreatening under the sheriff's intent stare.

After a moment, he passed the license back without comment, fetched a tablet from his cruiser, and we went through the whole fill-in-the-forms business. I was embarrassed to find I didn't recall my license plate, but Rob did. Damned overachiever.

"You're a long way from home," the sheriff said when we were done.

"Just passing through on our way to the coast," I told him. "We were hungry and there's a sign on the highway."

"Ellie's cooking's second to none. If you had to get stranded, at least you'll eat good."

"If we hadn't come here, my truck wouldn't be stolen."

"Now, you don't know that, son. Coulda happened anywhere."

Given the wolf scent, I disagreed, but I just said, "You have any idea who your local car thieves are? Any chance you'll find the truck?" Any chance the thieving wolf is a local lowlife?

"We don't have that kind of trouble here. Could be a stranger passing through, like you two. Just happened to stop for a bite and saw your keys." The sheriff shook his head. "There's such a thing as temptation."

Rob must've seen I was getting peeved because he said, "Is there someplace we can find a room while you do some investigating and we figure out our options?"

"Sunset View Motel. I'll even give you fellas a ride, if you don't mind sitting in the back."

"How far away is it?" I'd rather hike than sit in a cop car with doors that didn't open from the inside.

"About six miles thataway." He gestured farther from the highway. "Be a bit of a walk."

"We don't mind," I said. "I've done a lot of hiking in my day."

"Suit yourselves. You got money to pay for a room?"

"Assuming they take my card, sure."

"How backward do you think we are?" He raised an eyebrow. "Hell, we've even heard of that thing called the internet." He paused, watching my expression, then chuckled. "Some local folks make a living off eBay. Have a safe walk, gentlemen. It's a straight shot. Can't miss it. Just don't stray off the road. We got folks who don't like trespassers, and they have guns and dogs." He tipped his hat. "Afternoon."

I called after him, "You'll let us know immediately if you find my truck?"

"Of course." He paused at the car to take off his hat and toss it across the seat, then swung in and pulled out of the lot.

Rob and I looked at each other. I wanted to shift to fur and nose around, maybe check the diner, too. It couldn't be a coincidence that someone I once knew ran off with my truck. They'd either followed me from home unnoticed for over a day— unlikely— or they spotted us in the diner and seized the chance. Maybe if I smelled the bastard more clearly… but that would have to wait till after dark. The server knew we didn't have a dog with us. Rob couldn't just show up with his emotional support husky.

"Might as well head to the motel," I said. "Get checked in, get some rest. We can poke around after dark if the sheriff doesn't strike it rich."

"Halle-fucking-lujah. Get some rest, he finally says."

"With a six-mile walk first." But neither of us were fazed by that. Wolves all loved to run, in fur and in skin. Six miles was nothing.

We walked until the small town was out of sight behind us, then picked up the pace. Despite all my fury and frustration, it was good to run with Rob again. No pack, no worries, nothing but the fall of our feet side by side on the gravel shoulder, the quiet huffs of our breaths, and a wild pine woodland around us. Birds sang, squirrels chattered, and a flock of crows wheeled overhead, black against the blue sky.

"Nice country," Rob noted.

"Yeah, not bad."

I was almost cheerful by the time we spotted the motel sign and slowed our pace. The teenager at the counter didn't show any curiosity about why we arrived without baggage or transportation. He signed us in for a room with two queen beds, ran my credit card, and went back to his phone.

The doors still had real keys. We were in the unit at the far end, and judging by the lack of parked cars, there were lots of empty rooms between us and the office. Never a bad thing. I unlocked the door, let us inside, and threw the latch behind us.

A musty smell marked damp invading the woodwork, but the place seemed clean enough. The TV was chained to the dresser, but in this kleptomaniac town, that was probably smart.

Rob sat on the nearest bed. "A bit hard, but we've slept on worse."

I eased down on the other bed opposite him and met his gaze across the six-foot gap. And abruptly ran out of gas, or maybe nerve, or things to say. "We should take a nap."

"One bed or two?" He was braver than me.

"Wolves always like to have pack close by." I was a chickenshit.

"Planning to sleep in fur, David?"

"No. Hadn't planned on that."

"Me neither."

We stared at each other a while longer. Then Rob stood up and stripped to his underwear. He didn't make a show of it, but I was sure watching. Rob was four inches shorter than me, built lean, and in his usually loose clothes, he maybe looked skinny. But naked, every line of whipcord muscle and sinew showed. He had a distance runner's build, sharp-hipped and knobby-kneed, and he took my breath away.

When he was done, he headed to the john. I heard him piss and flush, and when he came back, I was still sitting there like a lump.

"Gonna sleep in your clothes, then?"

"No."

He pulled down the covers on the other bed and stretched out, leaving his shorts in place, which I appreciated. Propping his head up on his arm, he stared at me openly.

I forced myself to my feet and undressed quickly. I knew what he saw— a guy built tall and solid, heavy muscles I'd worked for, lots of chest hair, wide shoulders, although I was quicker and more agile than I looked, thanks to my wolf. "We're not seventeen anymore."

"And thank God for that." He flipped the covers back further. "Go pee and come to bed."

I did as he said, taking time in the bathroom to rinse out my mouth and scrub my pits after all those hours on the road. But at last, I couldn't put off the inevitable any longer. I crossed the room and stretched out beside Rob.

He pulled the sheet up over us. "Relax. I'm not going to jump your bones."

Part of me was sorry to hear that. Part of me wasn't. Most of me. Probably. "I didn't think you were."

"Oh, I want to, but I know we got a lotta talking to do first, years of laundry to haul out into the light of day."

"I'm tired." That wasn't just an excuse. All those hours behind the wheel, and even more, the stress and pain before them, were hitting me hard, like gravity dragging me to the center of the earth. I closed my eyes.

"I bet. You sleep. I'll keep an ear out. I napped in the car some." He reached out a hand. "Come here, though."

Without a thought, I rolled over and scooted back toward him. He wrapped me in a warm embrace, his almost hairless chest along my back, his bony knee against my thigh. The hug felt like comfort, not sexual, and I melted into it. How long since someone had held me, protected me? Maybe not since my mother died. My wife had always been the one needing my protection.

"You're thinking too hard," Rob murmured in my ear. "Sleep."