Page 24 of The Lunatics

“What about you and Michael?” she asked toward the end of the phone call. “What do you think your bond will be like?”

“Honestly, I’d settle for the continuation of polite acquaintanceship for the foreseeable future.”

“At least you guys don’t hate each other.”

“Thank the Goddess for small miracles.”

“Are you coming back up anytime soon? I’d like to get to know him.”

“I’m not sure yet, but I hope so. I promise to let you know when we do. And I really am sorry for not saying goodbye.”

“It’s okay. I forgive you.”

“I love you,” I told her.

“I love you back. You better call me in a few days to dish on all the city shifter gossip.”

“I will.”

We said goodbye and got off the phone. I spent the rest of the drive trying to remind myself of all the things I had always believed in. This wasn’t just some random thing that happened. The Goddess had Her reasons. There was a point to it all. Michael and I had always been destined to be together.

I almost succeeded in convincing myself by the time we reached the city limits.

CHAPTER 6

We left the clouds behind during the drive south, and Boston came into view around a bend in the highway. Its skyscrapers towered like glass behemoths, backlit by the cornflower blue of a brilliant summer day.

In all the confusion, I hadn’t asked where Michael’s family lived. For some reason I assumed they made their home right in the thick of it, but we bypassed the exit for I-93, which would have led us to the heart of Boston, and instead took I-95, which skirted the city to the west. We exited just past Newton, hitting our first patch of traffic in the highlands as we crowded onto a two-lane road with far too many traffic lights.

I hunched my shoulders and tried to focus on his vehicle in front of mine, but even with the windows up I was struggling. Too many engines roared and whined around me. Car stereos thumped a cacophony of mismatched beats. The man with the jackhammer at the construction site nearby might as well have been drilling straight into my skull.

The sights were worse than the sounds. Cars, humans, pigeons, rats, and even dumpster-diving seagulls raced at a frenetic pace around my truck. It felt like my brain was in danger of overheating as it tried to keep up, processing and threat-assessing each image it received.

Then there were the smells. Dear Goddess,the smells. There were other creatures living in this city with senses as heightened as my own, and I had no idea how they endured this nose-numbing mélange of melting pavement, car exhaust, rotting trash, hobo piss, and whatever the hell that was wafting up out of the nearest sewer drain. Worst of all were the humans. So. Many. Humans. Each drenched in their own cocktail of chemical scents.

I breathed a sigh of relief when we turned off the busy road onto a quieter street with wide lanes shaded by hundred-year-old oaks. A pond appeared on my left. The houses that faced it grew in size and ornamentation the farther we drove, until sprawling, haughty mansions draped in whitewashed brick and Italian marble vied for dominance.

We made another turn a scant mile later, and I found myself on a narrow lane hedged in by stone fences that looked better suited to an English village than a Boston suburb. A thick screen of smaller trees and shrubs crowded in on either side of us, made to look natural, but too well manicured to have been truly left to nature.

Michael slowed and put on his right blinker, pausing to wait for a megalithic wrought iron gate to swing open and allow us entry. I followed him into the driveway and immediately broke out in goose bumps. It felt like someone had dumped a tank of ice water over my head. We’d just crossed over a ward. A very powerful ward that must have taken several mystics to erect. Magic wasn’t my forte, but it reminded me of the protection spell that surrounded my pack’s land, only to a greater degree. This one had a probing nature to it that made it feel like it had inspected me,assessing whether or not I was a threat. What would have happened if it had determined I was one?

I shivered. Hopefully I’d never find out.

We drove for several hundred feet beneath massive specimen trees that had probably been planted by the original owners of this property. The canopy they formed rose high above us, shading our vehicles. We didn’t have many trees like this on our packland. The fight for space and nutrients was too fierce in the wilderness to allow them to grow to their full height and width. These were so old I could almost feel them looking down on us. Like they were sentient.

The trees grew farther apart the deeper we drove, and then soon fell away altogether, revealing an immaculately manicured lawn that spread a full acre up a landscaped hill dotted with retaining walls and flower beds. The landscaping ended at the foot of one of the most impressive houses I had ever seen. It was a huge colonial that looked to be a few centuries old, three stories tall, made of pale stone. The shutters that framed its windows were white, giving the place an open, inviting feel I hadn’t expected.

It had clearly been added to over the years, several wings just barely visible behind the main house. I caught the glimmer of sunlight glancing off aqua as we rounded the bend of the driveway and I sat up a little higher in my seat to see an Olympic-sized swimming pool off to one side. The twelve-car garage we parked in stood separate, big enough to fit my parents’ entire home inside and then some.

I knew the Kolbecks had money. Michael’s casual mention of multimillion-dollar mergers and the ease with which he wore suits that cost more than my entire wardrobe had given me a good idea of what I might be walking into. But this was something else.

I turned the truck off and tried my best not to be intimidated. Michael appeared at my window and opened the door for me, concern drawing his brows together. I took a deep breath and steppedout of the truck. With all the chaos and confusion of the end of the drive, I’d barely noticed our bond. It came back now in full force. He felt even more concerned than he looked.

“Are you all right?” he asked, softly.

I fought off a sudden urge to reach out and comfort him. Michael didn’t seem like the kind of man who would welcome a surprise hug, and I knew that it was the bond driving both his concern and my need to touch him. “I’m not used to cities. It’s better here, though.”

He nodded. “My grandfather purchased the surrounding lots and converted them into forest. The buffer of trees doesn’t entirely drown out the sounds of the city, but it helps.”