Free Oceans Untamed by Cleo Peitsche Page A

anything.
    Spencer went off the side of the road and held up a twisted bike frame and Monroe’s beach bag, and Koenraad stopped breathing.  
    Spencer tossed the bike aside and got back into the car. “He dumped her stuff, but she didn’t get out of the car here. The good news is that I smell her now, faintly, through there.” He pointed off to the left, inland.There was no road leading that direction, but Koenraad knew how to get there.
    He sped away with a screech of tires.
    “Why didn’t Brady go to the aquarium?” Spencer asked. “I called and—”
    “He got away,” Koenraad said. He didn’t go into the stuff with Victoria because then Spencer would ask follow-up questions. Spencer was too smart. He wouldn’t try to trap Koenraad in a lie, but it would happen,and then his analytical scientist’s mind would go crazy trying to work out the truth.
    It was just how Spencer was wired. Kind of like how Koenraad was wired to handle impossible situations, one way or another.  
    He heard a screech of tires, then a vehicle hitting something at a low speed. He guessed it was a mile away.
    “Car crash—”
    “My ears work. Tell me what you smell. How many shifters. IsMonroe there—”
    A car horn interrupted him. It wasn’t a polite little toot. He could tell that whoever was doing it was furious. Then it suddenly cut off.
    “I think I smell her, but it’s hard to know. Can’t say for the rest of your questions,” Spencer said. “I hope you know a road to get there because the wind is too strong. I’m not sure I’ll be able to pick her up again.”
    There was another noise,the creaking of metal under distress.  
    Koenraad’s blood boiled with barely contained rage as he plowed his car down an unpaved road. The road wouldn’t last long, but it would get him close enough.  
    He was going to rip that unknown shifter into millions of pieces.

Chapter 9

    The standoff with the shifter felt like it had dragged on for an hour, but it probably hadn’t even been five minutes. Still, Monroe knew her time was running out.  
    It wasn’t that her kidnapper seemed inclined to make good on his threat to throw her over the nonexistent cliff, but he was getting fatigued. He wasn’t exactly shaking or panting for air, but she could see it in thetightening of the muscles around his eyes and in the set of his mouth.
    He couldn’t hold her forever, but he couldn’t put her down because then she’d drive off. She planned to set a new speed record, too. All she needed was the chance to do it.
    The shifter suddenly went stiff, then turned his head to the side.
    “Why don’t you just let me go?” Her voice sounded deceptively steady, and it irkedher to have to plead with this piece of scum like he was a rational, empathetic human being.
    Except he wasn’t human at all. Thinking of it in those terms didn’t make her feel much better, though.
    “How about if we talk—”
    “Shut the fuck up,” he growled. His voice had become strained.
    Given the circumstances, Monroe thought it better to do as he said. Since he was distracted, she took the riskof looking away from him.  
    If she could get out the passenger side of the car, she’d… She’d what? Make it half a dozen steps? She wouldn’t even be able to get the door open before he’d be on top of her.
    Her only chance was to stay where she was, in the driver’s seat.
    She’d been trying not to antagonize her foe, but the stalemate couldn’t continue indefinitely; either she would get away or hewould find a way in.
    The car was still in drive. She checked her seatbelt and said a silent prayer.  
    Taking a deep breath, she stomped on the gas and mashed the horn at the same time.  
    The shifter was startled—which was what she’d intended—but his grip on the car didn’t loosen.  
    Fury made his eyes gleam. “I tried to be nice to you.” Then she couldn’t see him anymore because he’d raised thefront of the car over his head.  
    Monroe had always