“Yeah, I was going through rush, like they do in fraternities,” Van said, deeply sarcastic. “But I didn’t make the cut. Guess I got
“I thought he had to let you in,” I said. “I mean, I didn’t know the packleader got to pick and choose.”
“Alcide is a little too selective,” said the airman, who was driving. He turned a little so I could see his profile as he spoke. “He doesn’t want anyone with a serious criminal record in his pack.”
Alarm bel s sounded then in my brain, way too late. Mustapha had been in prison, though I didn’t know the charge … yet Alcide had been wil ing to accept him into the pack. What had these rogues done that had been so bad that a wolf pack wouldn’t have them?
The girl beside me tittered. The woman in the passenger’s side of the front seat cast her a dark look, and the girl stuck out her tongue like a ten-year-old.
“You got a police record?” I asked the plump girl.
Plump gave me a sly look. She had straight brown hair that fel to her shoulders. Her bangs were almost in her eyes. She’d stuffed herself into a striped tube top and blue jeans. She was wearing flip-flops. “I got a juvenile record,” she said proudly. “I set my house on fire. My mama got out just in time. My daddy and the boys didn’t.”
And I got what her daddy had been doing to her, just a single line of memory from her, and I was almost glad he hadn’t made it out. But the brothers? Little boys? I didn’t think she was too happy her mom had made it out, either.
“So Alcide wouldn’t admit any of you?”
“No,” said Van. “But when there’s a changeover, and the pack has a new leader, we’l be in. We’l have security.”
“What’s going to happen to Alcide?”
“We’re gonna overthrow his ass,” said Airman.
“He’s a good man,” I said quietly.
“He’s a douche,” said Plump.
During this charming conversation the woman in the front seat had not spoken, and though I couldn’t read her thoughts, I could read the ambiguity and regret that were making it hard for her to sit stil . I sensed she was on the cusp of a decision, and I feared to say something that would tip her over to the wrong side.
“So where are you taking me?” I said, and Van put his arm around me.
“Me and Johnny might appreciate a little alone time with you,” Van said, his free hand lodging itself under my skirt. “You looking so fine and al .”
“I wonder what
The woman looked back at me, and our eyes met. “You going to put up with that?” she asked Plump. Thus goaded, Plump grabbed Van’s wrist and pul ed his hand away from my crotch.
“You said you wouldn’t do this again,” she growled, and I mean growled. “I’m your woman now. No more.”
“Course you’re mine, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to cleanse my palate with a little country-fried steak,” Van said.
“Charming,” I said, which was unfortunate, because Van punched me and I saw bright lights for a second. You don’t want to get hit by a werewolf.
Real y.
I had to keep from gagging from the pain, but I resolved that if I threw up I was going to do it al over Van.
He grabbed my hand and squeezed it, squeezed it until I could feel the bones rubbing together. This time, I had to cry out, and he liked that. I could feel the pleasure radiating out from him.
No answer. I wondered where Mr. Cataliades was. I wondered where his great-great-grandson, whom I’d always cal ed Barry Bel boy, was. Too far away in Texas to hear my mental voice …
I wondered if I’d see tomorrow. I had planned on it being a happy day for me, a special day.
At least Van seemed to be taking Plump’s hostility seriously now, and he quit hurting me. Dealing out pain to me excited her jealousy just as much as him feeling me up. Unhealthy. Not that it was my problem, not that it would make any difference after we got wherever we were going. I’d picked up on a stray thought or two. I was beginning to get the bigger picture. It had a big skul and crossbones right in the middle.
The traffic was fairly heavy, but I knew what would happen to me if I signaled another car. I knew, too, what would happen to the people in that car.
Not a single police car in the stream of traffic … not a one. We were on the interstate going east, back toward Bon Temps. There were a dozen exits, and when we left the interstate, none of them would have this much traffic. Once we got into the woods, I’d be doomed.
Wel , I had to do
Just as a motorcycle began passing the car, I attacked Van. He’d been thinking about something entirely different, something involving the plump girl, so my sudden twist and lunge was a huge shock. I tried to grasp his neck, but my fingers wouldn’t meet around it, and I had a hank of his hair bundled into my grip. He yel ed and his hands shot up to grip mine. I dug my thumbs in ferociously, and Airman turned to glance back. Glass shattered and as I closed my eyes I saw a fine mist of red. Someone had shot Airman in the shoulder.
We were at a level spot on the interstate, thank God. As we abruptly swerved off the pavement, the quiet woman in the front seat reached over and switched the car off.
