* * *
* * *
The Auto dropped me off in front of the Keene house, and I climbed out as moonlight and shadow raced across the peaks and valleys of the family’s porch-wrapped home. In addition to the immediate family, two or three of Connor’s aunts and uncles—I always forgot the number—lived there, too. If the business was the Pack’s public hub, the house was its private refuge.
The neighborhood was quiet, many of the house’s windows still dark. But the first floor was lit, pale curtains drawn. I’d been afraid I’d find a gleaming Auto against the curb to whisk us north while the landscape passed us by.
But there was no Auto; there was a bike, low and dark and impressively built. Her name was Thelma, and Connor had transformed her from rusted frame to dark siren after god only knew how many hours of work.
I walked closer, ran fingers across the buttery black leather that covered the seat, carefully quilted in a diamond-shaped pattern. There was a second seat behind the first, just a little higher, but still close.
The house’s screen door screeched open, and Connor walked onto the porch, lips curving as he saw me. He wore jeans and a black motorcycle-style jacket that looked like it had already seen a lot of miles.
With his dark, wavy hair and blue eyes, he looked every bit the rakish prince. Gorgeous, devilish, and just a little dangerous.
“I wasn’t sure if you were going to show up,” he said, coming down the steps.
“I wasn’t, either. But I’m here.”
He stopped when he reached me. “Controversy?”
“Beaten out by curiosity.”
“Brave girl,” he said with approval. Frowning, he scanned my face. “And your . . . enhancement?”
We’d taken to calling the monster my “enhancement” over text message in an effort to keep it secret. And that he felt he had to raise the issue at all put a hard stone of guilt in my belly.
“I’ll be fine.”
He looked at me carefully, judging, considering, and my guilt melted away. There was a softness in his eyes that spoke of concern, not fear; he wasn’t afraid I’d hurt his family, but that I’d be hurt.
“The yoga is helping,” I said. “Letting it stretch, giving it some space. And if there’s an issue, I’ll just run into the woods.”
His smile was canny. “A tried-and-true method for shifters, as well. There will be plenty of woods where we’re going.”
“Which is where, exactly?”
Connor grinned. “Very unvampiric of you to show up without the full details.”
“I can be spontaneous when necessary.” And I knew when to pick my battles.
“We’re going to a former resort in Grand Bay,” Connor said. “North shore of Lake Superior. Two dozen cabins plus the main lodge. Couple of saunas, several firepits. Humans couldn’t keep it afloat, so the clan bought it and adapted it. Some of the cabins are empty; we’ll stay in one of those.”
“You’ve been there before?”
“Spent several summers there when I was younger, hanging with the family.” He tapped the seat. “You good riding on Thelma?”
I thought, Yes, please, but said, “I can manage. As long as you keep her upright.”
His grunt made it clear how unnecessary he thought the warning was. “SUV would be easier. Auto easier still. But they’re . . .”
“Safe?” I offered, and he smiled thinly.
“Sterile,” he said. Then he stepped back, looked me over. “Boots and jeans and jacket are good. You might want to pull back your hair. I’ve got a helmet,” he said, and pointed to the smaller of two that hung from the bike’s handlebars. He looked at my scabbard. “I presume that’s nonnegotiable.”
“You would be correct. I presume we won’t be traveling in daylight?”
Connor smiled. “That would defeat the point of bringing you along, wouldn’t it?”
“Unless you wanted vampire charcoal, yes. But this seems an awfully roundabout way to get it.”
“I don’t want charcoal,” he said, leaning in, gaze locked on mine as he moved in for a kiss. “Vampire? That’s a different matter.”
The screen door slammed. “Con.”
Connor sighed, lips curling into a smile. “The Apex’s timing is impeccable, as always,” he whispered, lips nearly against mine, then stepped away. “Pop.”
Gabriel Keene, head of the North American Central Pack, came down the steps. He was an imposing figure. He had Connor’s strong build, but different coloring. His tawny, sun-streaked hair reached his shoulders, and his eyes were the color of whiskey. He wore jeans, boots, and a Henley-style shirt of slate blue.
He glanced at me. “Elisa. I guess you’ve decided to visit Minnesota.”
I smiled at him. “I haven’t seen nearly enough Paul Bunyan statues lately.”
“You’ll get your fill this weekend. And of cheese curds and hot dish.”
“As long as there’s coffee, I’ll be fine.”
“You should be good there,” he said, then glanced at Connor. “Anything happens to her, and there will be hell to pay.”
I almost objected to the assumption I needed protecting until Gabriel looked at me, grinned.
“And same goes for him,” he said, his smile knowing. “Try to keep him out of trouble.”
“Sure. I mean, that hasn’t worked during my first twenty-three years, but maybe I’ll have a sudden run of luck.”
He grinned. “You decide you need backup, call us.”
“We’ll be fine,” Connor said. “And Alexei’s going to join us en route.” He glanced at me. “We’re going to meet him outside Schaumburg.”
I wasn’t sure if I was glad I’d be able to learn more about Alexei—or disappointed it wouldn’t be just me and Connor.
“Good,” Gabriel said. “That’s good. Let’s chat for a moment.” He beckoned Connor a few feet away. My hearing was good enough that I could have listened in, but I turned back to the bike, pulled back my hair, and plaited it into a loose braid.
A minute later, I heard the sounds of backslapping as they embraced.
“Bon voyage,” Gabriel said, then headed back into the house.
I glanced back at Connor. “Everything okay?” I asked. But I could read the concern in his eyes clear enough. Not fear—Connor wasn’t the type to be afraid—but unease.