Free Pack and Coven by Jody Wallace

brick welcome sign.
    With a horrible crunch, bricks scattered every direction. The car rebounded with a stomach-lurching jounce. An airbag slammed into Harry, shoving him into his seat.
    â€œShit!” He fought the tough vinyl of the bag. The front end seemed to have completely crumpled though the doors remained intact. A brick slid down the cracked windshield like a skier. “Are you okay, June?”
    â€œI’m alive.” Her voice was tight with pain. “What’d you do that for? My poor car. It’s less than six weeks old.”
    â€œI didn’t want to hit the…never mind.” He should have ignored the wolves. The four-legs would have dodged the car. He batted the airbag into his lap. “You’re not okay.”
    June rubbed her wrist. “It’s sprained. I can fix it.”
    â€œYou didn’t have an airbag. You could have been hurt a lot worse.”
    â€œI disabled this side. Long story.” She glanced at him, her blue eyes wide. “I told you to stay in Millington. Goddess, now what are we supposed to do?”
    â€œYou didn’t tell me in a way I could understand,” he growled in a low voice.
    His anger wasn’t directed at her. Their audience had noticed the crash, and a truck with Virginia tags had bounced onto the highway to head their way.
    Virginia was split into two territories—the Roanoke pack claimed the majority, with D.C. at the top. What were the chances those shifters were from D.C.?
    â€œIs the car spell still working?” he whispered.
    â€œI don’t know, I don’t know. I swan, why couldn’t I have sprained my bad wrist?” June started scrambling in her purse. “Where’s my compact? Harry, where’s my compact?”
    â€œDon’t say my name.” He checked under his seat, under the floor mat. He found some white twists of paper he assumed contained herbs, a raincoat wadded into a packet, some silverware and a tube of lipstick.
    The monster truck closed in on them. If it held wannabe alpha candidates, he and June would be fine. They wouldn’t want the competition.
    If it held neighbors helping with the lockdown, they were screwed.
    â€œHere it is.” June whipped open a gold compact and clawed the powder, hissing as her wrist bent. She rubbed streaks of talc on her nose.
    Harry twisted away from the window, pretending to check June for wounds. If these shifters had his photo from the lockdown report, he couldn’t let them see his face.
    â€œYou and the missus okay in there?” asked the driver in a rumbling voice. In the background, thunder growled in counterpoint.
    Harry waved a hand but didn’t speak. Bricks from the sign thunked to the ground, and a piece of the car clanked into the gravel. June’s eyes were closed, her lips moving.
    A familiar pressure built in Harry’s ears. He’d trekked up and down several mountains in the past hours.
    â€œIf you owned a good, American-made car, you folks would be in better shape,” the driver commented. Had Harry met him before? He thought he recognized the voice, as well as the authority in it. Alpha.
    Candidate?
    â€œGavin,” said the speaker, “get down there and see if you can help.”
    Cold dread borne of long-ago trauma settled in Harry’s gut. He knew a Gavin from when he’d been a child in the Roanoke pack, and that guy had been the sorriest son of a dog who’d ever shifted into fur.
    The name was either coincidence or the worst kind of fate.
    â€œDon’t need help.” Harry pitched his voice high and waved again. If they were who he feared, there might be no escape. How the hell was he going to get June out of this if they realized who he was?
    â€œSon, do I know you?” The truck door creaked. Boots hit the pavement.
    June’s eyes flew open. Harry’s ears popped. And then she gave him an order he was only too happy to obey.
    â€œKiss me.”

Chapter