Page 19 of Moon Destiny

“I thought you might like to get out of the house,” Dylan said. “But I can guarantee you’ll be underwhelmed. Bosford and boring both start with B and I’m afraid it’s an entirely appropriate coincidence.”

“I won’t be bored,” I said quickly, ideas forming in my head. I knew nothing about Bosford, but it was a town like any other, right? That meant people. Humans. It was a chance to escape.

He nodded. “I’ll step out so you can change.”

“I’ll be fast,” I promised.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, I realized Dylan hadn’t been joking when he promised Bosford was boring.

“This is it?” I asked, staring at the block of buildings that lined the town’s main street—which, shockingly enough, was called Main Street. And “block” was a generous description for the cluster of brick storefronts. There were three businesses: a post office, an ice cream shop, and an honest-to-goodness general store. All the town needed was a rolling tumbleweed and some Hollywood director could shoot a Western in it.

Dylan laughed. “I did say you’d be underwhelmed. The ice cream is good, though. You want some? My treat.”

“Okay,” I said, sounding as miserable as I felt. Not wanting Dylan to think I was rude, I forced a smile. “I’ll buy next time.”

I waited while he ducked inside, my gaze taking in the single stoplight and the forest that huddled along the edge of the buildings. Between the narrow street and the thick trees, it was almost like being at the Gorge again. Goosebumps broke out on my arms, making me wish I’d thrown a jacket over my T-shirt. Whatever else Julia might be, she was a decent shopper, and I was comfortable in a pair of black denim shorts and a gray cotton shirt.

But it was the underwear I appreciated most. The next time I met Hugh Dalton, I would not be braless and commando.

Dylan returned a couple minutes later with two waffle cones loaded with French vanilla. My stomach let out an appreciative growl, and he grinned as he handed mine over. The teenage girl working the ice cream shop counter watched us through the window.

My nape prickled—something that kept happening so often I assumed it was a side effect of my transformation.

Lucky me.

I turned so the girl couldn’t see my face. “Is she a werewolf?”

Dylan glanced inside. “Half-breed. Everyone in Bosford is either a werewolf, half wolf, or married to a wolf. It’s exhausting living alongside humans. Here, surrounded by our own kind, we don’t have to hide. Most packs have their headquarters in rural areas like this.”

I nodded—and I couldn’t help wondering if that explained why some people got a weird feeling when traveling through small towns in the middle of nowhere. Maybe those were werewolf towns.

We were halfway to Dylan’s SUV when he waved at a man in a passing truck. The driver waved back, then gave me a lingering stare as he drove by.

I shivered. “I feel like he knew me.”

“Everyone knows you.” Dylan licked around the edge of his cone. “Turned females are super rare.”

“Yeah, it said that in the book Hugh made me read.”

Dylan groaned. “Of course he did. I’d forgotten about that thing.” We climbed into his SUV and he finished his cone one-handed as he backed out of the parking spot. “I love Hugh like a father but he can be the biggest nerd sometimes.”

“Oh yeah?” I could totally see it.

“Yeah. Don’t every play Monopoly with him.” Dylan lowered his voice like he was ready to say something scandalous. “Hugh plays through the whole damn thing. And he follows the rules.”

There was a series of rapid-fire pops, and several holes appeared in the windshield.

Dylan shoved me down before I even registered what happened. More pops rang out. Glass dusted us as he covered my body with his, his weight pushing my cheek into the leather seat. The center console dug into my ribs, but I didn’t care. Someone was shooting at us.

The popping stopped. Everything was still.

“Stay down,” Dylan said, his voice low and hard. He sat up and hit the gas, squealing out of the parking lot and taking the SUV from zero to what felt like a hundred miles an hour.

My heart raced just as fast. I’d dropped my cone in the chaos, and the scent of vanilla hit my nose…along with the coppery scent of blood.

The SUV hit a bump, and Dylan sucked in a pained breath.

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