Page 26 of Rivers and Roads

There was a bathroom at the far end, and I didn’t bother with the lights as I hunted around for some towels. They were industrial and rough, but Zane didn’t put up a fight when I ran them under water, then filled them with soap until the suds were dripping down my arm. He snarled a little when I began to clean him, but he was more like a petulant child than anything.

He growled and huffed like a wolf, and he whimpered when I moved the cloth over his torn skin on his wrists and ankles. His neck had also been rubbed raw, so I only paid that a little bit of attention, figuring his shift would heal him eventually.

Probably.

Hopefully.

Assuming he still could.

“I hate this,” I said when I eased his head over the sink. I had a small cup, and I managed to scrub away some of the grime from his scalp. “I hate that I have to do this. I want to tear their hearts from their chest.”

He made a small whuff sound—agreement, I supposed. I wondered how much of him was in there that was capable of understanding my words.

My chest ached.

“Alright,” I said, easing him back up as straight as he was willing to stand. He shook his head hard, spraying me with water, and I shielded my eyes until I heard him stop. He’d lost some weight, but he still had most of his bulk, though if it had taken me any longer to find him, he would have been damn-near starving. “I need to check you for a tracker.”

It was the only other thing Nadya had taught me to look for. A tiny scar in an unobtrusive little area like between his toes or in his groin. Zane didn’t put up a fight as I eased him to the ground, and he lay pliant as I ran my fingers over him. It didn’t take long to find it, lodged in his hip, and I used my claw to carve a line and drag it out.

His only complaint was a soft whimper, and I fought the urge to lean in and lick the wound as I put a clean towel over it. I left the tracker on the edge of the sink, then pushed to my feet. When I offered my hand, Zane stared at me for a long moment, then he took it. His claws scraped along my wrist, and I found the urge to tilt my head and submit to the yellow flash in his eyes.

“We need to find you something to wear,” I said, shaking out of my daze. “I hope to the gods this house in Canada has supplies, but for now…” I trailed off, moving back into the shop.

To my chagrin, the only thing they had was a small display of board shorts and t-shirts with the state logo. The Zane I knew would have carved me to pieces if I’d suggested something so absurd, but this feral wolf with sad Alpha eyes simply let me move him around like a puppet. He watched me intently, almost like he was waiting for some sort of command, and I realized maybe he was.

“I’m going to fix this,” I said when I got the shirt over his head. I used my fingers to arrange his hair back to the way it was, and I let them trail along his jaw. He made a soft noise and attempted to nuzzle me, but I couldn’t let him. Not yet. Not in that gods-forsaken little roadside shop. “Let’s get some food and we can hit the road.”

Zane stayed put while I filled a couple of bags with water, dried meat, and as many snacks as I thought either of us could stomach. I popped the register and took a handful of cash, not letting myself feel guilt over doing what I had to.

Hooking the bag over my wrist, I turned back to him and held my hand out. Zane sniffed the air, then crossed the distance and pushed his body close to mine. It was almost overwhelming, which I wasn’t expecting. I hadn’t reacted that way to any other Alpha after taking the serum, and since I was damn near to my second missed dose, I expected the urge to be less.

Only with Zane, it seemed to grow with every passing minute.

“Come on,” I said, forcing myself to focus. We crept out the back, and I settled him in the car before I dug around in the trunk and found a couple of old blankets. They smelled like spilled motor oil, and they were probably full of bugs, but it was all we had. I shook them out, then laid them on the seat and watched as Zane nuzzled into them.

He was more animal than man, and I felt a desperation to reach out and try to pull him back. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t belong like this.

What they’d done to him…

I breathed out, the sound trembling in my chest, then I slammed the door and got back behind the wheel. We had hours to go and could only afford stopping to piss and fuel up. The border was too close and too far away, and I still wasn’t sure we’d make it there alive.

The sky was just barely beginning to lighten as the border to Canada came into view. There was a single car ahead of me on the approach, and I hesitated because I was only going to get across if I played this right. I didn’t know what Kor’s contact looked like, or if they knew who to expect, and panic started to simmer in my veins before a hand appeared to my left and waved me over.

My heart was beating hard in my throat as I came to a stop, and I looked over to see a man with pale skin and dark, human eyes, in a uniform. “Passport?”

I reached over for the few things I hadn’t left behind at ComTech, and handed off the fake passport, my lungs tight and unsure. I didn’t know if this was the man, or if this was simply a border agent who would most definitely take a look at the battered, feral Wolf in the backseat.

“Purpose of your visit?” he said.

I couldn’t get a read on his tone, but his heartbeat was steady and there was no fear in the air. “Visiting friends.”

He hummed, then stepped to the left to glance down in the backseat. For a moment, it felt like the walls of the universe were closing in on me, then he turned and went back to his booth. I held my breath until my lungs burned, and after a beat, he returned with my passport and something small—a palm-sized cardboard box.

“Enjoy your trip, sir.”

I took the box and met his gaze, and it was only then I saw it: understanding. He knew who we were—what we were—and why we were there. “Thank you,” I told him.

“Might want to veer to the right, sir. Avoid unnecessary roadblocks.”

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