Page 13 of Wolves Always Bite

"Ibet you do."Adrianchanged lanes as he followed the motorhome hauling the enclosed utility trailer—the motorhome driven by the guy with freaking horns. "Radio?"

"Youaren't very subtle at trying to change the subject."

Adrian'smouth twitched in a bit of a smile. "Iwasn't trying to be."

Ihoped he didn’t thinkIwas going to ask about his missing fingers and that was why he was trying to change the subject.Iwouldn’t do that.Iwas curious, sure, but what happened to his hand wasn’t my business.Especiallynot after he’d tensed up whenIwas looking at them earlier.Ishould have known better than to let my gaze linger.Mymom always told meIwas too nosy for my own good.

"Theradio is fine, but not an oldie's station."Ihad enough old songs in my head already.

Adriantoyed with the radio until he found aTop40 station.Thefact that the truck wasn't already set to a station made me want to ask about that too.WasAdriannew to the area?Passingthrough?Didhe normally never listen to music?Werethere people out there like that?

WhenIwas growing up, my house had always been filled with noise.Therewas the cackle of laughter, the sizzling of food cooking, the blasting of favorite songs on the radio, or the blaring ofTVshows.Asthe youngest of seven brothers,Ihad been born into the family during its noisiest years.Asmy brothers moved out, the house got quieter and quieter.Mymom always said it was no wonderIseemed most comfortable in a loud, chaotic crowd.Evenin university,Icouldn't write my papers in the quiet of my dorm room or the library.Nope.Ineeded the cacophony of a cafeteria at lunch or the happy energy in a busy coffee shop.

"Andnow for a throwback," the radio announcer said. "Doeseveryone remember this song?"

Isnorted a laugh as the first line of “WerewolvesofLondon” filled the truck.Whenit got to the chorus,Ihowled along withWarrenZevon.Adrianshifted in his seat and gripped the steering wheel tighter.Whenthe song finished,Iturned in my seat to stare directly at the guy who'd thrown my whole world into a tailspin.

"So, a werewolf, hey?"

Adrianflinched and stared resolutely at the road.

"Comeon,"Icoaxed asIquietly unzipped my backpack and dug for my notebook and pen. “Ideserve to know more, don’tI?Particularlywhen the personI’vebeen working for just attacked us.Waita minute…Iprobably shouldn’t assume anything.Youknow what they say about that.So…Areyou the bad guy?Imean, you did just kidnap me and grab those boxes beforeBabettegot back to the stall.”

“YouthinkI’mthe bad guy.Yourboss just tried to kill me.”

“Everyonehas a bad day once in a while.Andjust because someone is unattractive and mean spirited, that doesn’t make them evil.Justlike every hot guy who flirts with me might not be what he seems.”

“YouthinkI’mhot?”Heflashed that ridiculously sexy smile at me.

“Quitdistracting me with your good looks.”Iwaggled my finger at him. “Soare you working for the forces of good or evil?”

“Good?”

“Thatsounded like a question.Aren’tyou sure?”

“I’msure.Ijust never thought of it quite like that before.”Heshrugged.

“Everygreat story has good guys and bad guys.ThinkSherlockversusMoriarty.ThinktheDarcyversusWickham.ThinkAliceversus theQueenofHearts.”

Iwasn’t sure he got all my references, but he dipped his head in acknowledgement of my point. “Thoseboxes were stolen.Iwas hired to find and retrieve them.”

“Soundsplausible.”Especiallysince the freaks in the woods this morning had looked ready to haul me into the hills and bury me in a shallow grave.Okay.Iwas willing to go with it.Myintuition wasn’t shooting out warnings.Althoughit could be broken becauseIhadn’t really picked up on anything seriously wrong withBabetteeither.I’dnever really liked her, butIdidn’t think that was an omen. “So…Backto my original question.Werewolf?”

Theguy sighed and glanced at me. "Areyou sure we can't table this until we stop?"

"You’rethe one who kidnapped me."

"Idid not—"

"Kidding.Sheesh."Ismiled.AtleastAdrianwas talking to me now.Iopened my notebook to a random blank page and poised my pen, soIwas ready to take notes. "Soyou’re a werewolf."

"Thatdidn't sound like a question," he hedged.

"Nope."

"Whyare you taking notes?"Heglanced worriedly at my pen and notebook.

Ishrugged. "BecauseIwant to."