Free Oceans Untamed by Cleo Peitsche

backward. Apparently, the shifter was surprised, too, because he was frozen a moment, his mouth agape.  
    She crashed into something behind her—hard enough to whipher head into the seat and send her headache spiking off the charts, but she didn’t have time to wait for the dull ringing in her ears to subside. She put the car in drive this time and gripped the steering wheel.
    The shifter stopped the vehicle with a hand under the side. He lifted it several inches off the ground.
    “We can do this one of two ways,” he said. “Either you get out of my car likea nice girl, or I throw this over the cliff. Think of Koenraad, how sad he’ll be if you meet a tragic end.”
    “I’m no use to you dead,” she said.  
    “Don’t be so sure about that. You have to the count of three.”
    Her response was to fasten the seatbelt. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest choice. If the shifter could pick up a car, he could surely get to her. But she didn’t think he wanted to throw thecar off the cliff, and anyway she wasn’t sure there were cliffs anywhere on the island.
    The more she thought about it, the more certain she was that he didn’t want to hurt the car. And why not? It was a nice vehicle.  
    That told her he didn’t have a lot of money. Otherwise he wouldn’t have hesitated to get at her. Heaven knew he was pissed enough.
    As long as she stayed in the car, she mighthave a chance.
    “One,” he said.  
    She stared straight ahead and said a silent prayer.

Chapter 8

    Spencer pulled up in his convertible, the top down. He smelled of booze and cheap perfume. Koenraad could smell that much.
    “Thank you for coming,” he said as Spencer got out of the car.
    “You saved me from an excruciatingly horrible date with the world’s dumbest dolphin. She was cute, but I was ready to bribe some other guy to take her off my hands. It was that bad. So thankyou.”  
    Koenraad didn’t buy it. Making a mental note to later thank Spencer for his graciousness, he gestured at the bushes. “What I need is a second opinion. What do you smell?”
    Spencer’s brow creased, but he shrugged and inhaled deeply. His head swayed slightly as he separated out the different scents. “Second opinion on what?”
    “What do you smell?”
    “Uh, nothing. Nothing unidentifiable. Yourblood, Monroe, another shifter. Couldn’t tell you who. A car with that special new smell.” He looked over at Koenraad with puzzlement etched on his face. “What am I missing? What happened here?”
    “I was hoping you could tell me. I spent a lot of time in the ocean today. My sense of smell took a hit. Do you think you can track them?”
    Spencer stared at him, and Koenraad knew he was trying to decidehow much he wanted to know.  
    “Sooner is better than later,” Koenraad said. “Monroe is missing.”
    “That way.” Spencer pointed down the dark road, and Koenraad slid into his car, honked impatiently. The direction he’d indicated matched what Koenraad had suspected, but there were mazes of roads, paved and unpaved. It would be impossible to find someone just by driving around.
    He took off as soonas the majority of Spencer was inside.  
    “Drive slower,” Spencer said. “I never was very good at tracking stuff out of the water.” He stared into the darkness, his attention fixed.  
    Koenraad could smell the ocean. Brine. Kelp. Algae. Water. He could smell the bushes, the sand. But he couldn’t smell Monroe or the car that had taken her. Everything was painted in broad brushstrokes. It wasn’t apleasant feeling.
    “Make a left… ah, here.” Spencer leaned out the window. “Stop!”
    Koenraad slammed on the brakes.
    “I lost them.” Spencer got out, walked around a bit. Koenraad beat his fingers on the steering wheel and tried to control his impatience. He wanted to holler for Spencer to hurry up, but this was definitely a moment where a light touch was needed. What he wouldn’t give to have awolf shifter nearby; they could track