Free Shift Happens (A Carus Novel Book 1) by J. C. McKenzie Page A

the rest of his pack. They’d check the parking lot.
    I made a decision and flicked on my left turn signal. Some of the cars behind me honked in outrage. It pissed me off when people signalled late as well. Instead of flipping them off, I owned it and waved. Sorry.
    My house was too good to not try first. A drive by with the window down would be all I needed to sniff the air and figure out if the wolves had been there. I glanced at my broken windows and smirked. No need to roll them down.

Chapter Eleven
    Attachment to anything or anyone was a professional error. I would leave this place if I had to, but it didn’t mean I had to like it.
    The block my house sat on was deserted. The work day had yet to end. Living in a neighbourhood full of professionals certainly had its advantages. Only a few had kids and I was thankful for that. I didn’t dislike children, but they were too curious for their own good. I would move before I took out a child for seeing something not fit for young eyes. And I hated moving.
    My home was a two bedroom, two bathroom condo. Well, one and a half bathrooms if you’re a realtor. The dark blue siding contrasted with the crisp white trim. Inside, the open concept made a bright spacious area. The main selling feature was the master bedroom, with a walk-in closet and a gorgeous ensuite featuring a deep soaker tub. But I liked the bay windows with seating the best. There’d been countless mornings where I dragged my sorry self out of bed to sit wrapped up in a warm blanket against the windows. I’d sip my coffee and watch other people battle the elements for their morning exercise. I didn’t need to run in the rain. My Shifter metabolism and martial arts training kept me svelte enough.
    I made two laps around the block—once in each direction. Time and daylight slipped away with each full roll of my tires. Once night fell I’d have to contend with a horde of Vampires as well as the pack. A faint smell of wolf lingered in certain nooks, but nothing fresh. They’d been here.
    Wick had been here. Though faint, his telltale sugar aroma blended with the signature Werewolf scent of rosemary and rushed into my body as if my wolf sucked it in.
    The idea of nipping in and out to grab some clothes before they got here flashed in and out of my mind. A risk. Too much of a risk.
    “For fuck’s sake. I can’t catch a break.”
    I navigated my car from the curb and made my way to the highway. In the rear-view mirror, I said goodbye to my home. My stomach dropped at the thought of losing yet another place, one that started to feel like a home. My handler would have to sell the condo for me.
    My handler.
    Time to pay Landen a visit. This wasn’t a straightforward hit. First, I got caught. Second, the Master Vampire wanted to ‘see’ me about it. Third, Clint had been a norm. I needed more information and Landen had it.
    But the safe house came first. My handler would take me more seriously as an interrogator if I had clothes on.
    There was an odd disconnect to driving on the motorway naked with all the windows smashed. At first, I felt exposed, uncomfortable and cold. Frigid air burst through the open portals of my car and slammed against my exposed flesh, and there was nothing I could do about the open stares, leers and the judgmental frowns of each passerby. I drove faster and focused on my goal.
    When the gas light blinked on I took the next off ramp. Part of me gave thanks for being done with the high speed wind tunnel portion of the trip and the other part of me was disappointed I didn’t make it farther and would have to cover the rest of the distance by wing. I would be sore—very sore.
    If I made it.
    A cramped wing over the Strait of Georgia wasn’t something I needed. I couldn’t shift into a fish.
    The sun had set half an hour ago. The air, when not blasting against my skin during the drive, felt mild, not bad for a long flight. The odds danced in my favor for once—the air currents moved in