Page 35 of The Lunatics

I changed in record time and snagged my phone and wallet. For some reason, I didn’t think we’d be back here in time for breakfast.

Michael was waiting by the doors to the balcony when I emerged from my room. “We’re going to jump,” he told me.

He didn’t have to explain why. If we were sneaking out, this was the best way to go. Someone might pick up on us movingthrough the house, despite the fact that for shifters, they seemed a little hard of hearing.

“Lead the way,” I said.

He strode out into the night, his compact frame moving with lupine grace. Moonlight hit his face at a hard angle, casting it half in shadow. It made him look dangerous. Like someone you would cross the street to get away from. I liked it.

We reached the railing at the same time and vaulted it, landing quietly beside each other on the grass thirty feet below. He turned to move to the right, but I grabbed his shirt and stopped him. Footfalls came from that way. The creak of leather. Sounds of a guard, moving closer. Michael arched a brow at me in question, and I shook my head, pointing in the other direction. He nodded. We went left.

The extensive grounds looked different from the way they had during the day, shrouded now in a gray world of shadows and filled with the chorus of a summer night. Crickets chirped in the grass. From overhead came the soft flapping of bat wings. Some small rodent rooted through the mulch in a nearby flower bed, and off in the distance, car engines revved.

The guards were out in force. Between avoiding them and the cameras Michael pointed out, a journey that would have been a two-minute stroll in the daylight turned into a twenty-minute adrenaline-filled expedition.

For a city wolf, Michael still had good instincts. He moved in a low crouch, rolling his feet from heel to toe to soften the sound of his steps. Where light spilled from the house to cut across our path, he paused, waiting until I assured him that no one was close by before sprinting through. We reached pavement, and his footfalls were barely perceptible on it, quieter even than my own. My surprise didn’t last long before my competitive nature kicked in. I spent the rest of our escape trying to be stealthier than him.

I didn’t succeed. It was a crushing blow to my ego.

Michael slipped into the garage through a side door, and I followed him in. We stayed crouched until we reached his SUV. He unlocked it quickly, jammed the garage door button before my butt was even in the seat, then cranked the engine over and roared out of there the second we had enough clearance. I scrambled to get my seat belt on, Mom’s warning about not being immortal blaring through my mind.

People in black camo and face paint poured out of the woods, toting a small armory of weapons, everything from machine guns to—what the hell? Was that a battle-ax?

“What are you even going to do with that thing?” I yelled as we sped past the man who wielded it.

Several people went so far as to try to get in front of the Range Rover, but they either saw the hard look on Michael’s face or heeded my frantic arm waving to get out of the way, because they wisely dove aside instead of being crushed beneath the tires.

Michael reached up and pushed a button clipped to his sun visor. I assumed it worked the front gate, and I clenched up when it came into view, lumbering slowly open.

We’re not going to make it, I realized, bracing for impact.

Michael slowed just enough to squeeze past, both of us shuddering as we broke through the protective ward.

I sighed in relief and looked over at him. “You wanna tell me what this is all a—”

The shrill tone of a phone cut me off, blaring through the SUV’s speakers. I glanced at the fancy dashboard screen and saw “Mother” on the caller ID.

Michael hit Accept.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded.

“We’ll be staying in the Back Bay for the next several days,” he said.

“The hell you will. Turn the car around, Michael.”

“Good night, Mother.”

He hung up on her. For good measure, he turned his phone off, and I felt his savage sense of triumph.

I stared at his profile, frowning, and he glanced over at me.

“You’re wondering why I’m absconding with you like a thief in the night?”

I nodded. Sure, dinner had started as a disaster, but it smoothed out after I’d been officially welcomed into the fold. Michael had returned to his extremely polite self. Conversation flowed. The servers cleared the cold and uneaten first course from the table and delivered a hearty stew for the second. His mother had even been damn near civil. So what was this about?

“If I had been aware of your history, I never would have brought you there,” Michael said.

“I’m sor—”