Page 66 of A Cock and Bull Story
“Give me five minutes,” Jep huffs before disconnecting.
It takes even less time for him to reappear at the side of the road. Our crowded truck becomes even more so as he climbs into Elise’s lap and drops her phone and jewelry beside her.
I roll down the windows and drive north as directed. We don’t stop until we’re past Banbury by about fifteen minutes. Just when I’m about to ask questions to a dog, Jep barks sharply three times, and Arthur slams on the brakes. The hound dog shifter jumps out of the car window and lands nimbly on his feet before changing back into his human form.
“The truck went this way, and I can smell your girl again. She’s down this road—they all are.”
“They?” Theo asks with apprehension.
“Tertiaries—five of them. Be careful. This is as far as I’m going.”
“Thanks, Jep,” I say gratefully, shaking his hand.
“Watch yourself, Jack. This is no place for an ass—nor the others,” he warns, waving to my fellow Primaries.
“I know,” I murmur.
We’re likely walking to our deaths.
“This Yank must be something special,” Jep comments.
I smile.
“She’s. . .” I trail off, at a loss of how to describe Belle.
“She’s one-of-a-kind,” Jude fills in for me.
The rest of us all nod in agreement.
“Good luck finding your unicorn, then,” Jep says with heartfelt sincerity before shifting and running back south.
“Girls—shift and go back to Sian’s cousin’s place. We’ll keep our phones in the car and tell you when we get back to campus. We’ll go get Belle,” I promise. “Come on, lads, lets shift and check this out.”
We all strip and change into our animals, except Theo. Together, we make our way silently down the path. After a half a kilometer, it leads to an open field where a dilapidated factory sits.
Jude chitters rapidly before flying high up into the air. The rest of us wait for him to do an aerial search. He returns shortly, lands, and shifts into human form.
“I don’t see anything.”
“Let me hop over and check the windows,” Arthur suggests.
He changes into his horny toad and bounds off. Soon, the Scot shifts back and waves us over.
“She’s down there!” he hisses in a whisper. “Chained up!”
My eyes narrow at his words.
I might just be an ass, but I’m about to go kick some—nobody hurts Belle.
“Get ready for me, Breeder,” the tiger shifter all but purrs as he saunters up between my spread legs—my skirt is tossed up, but my panties are long gone.
I sputter out a cough.
“Is that it?” I demand.
He rears back, offering me some personal space. A frown mars his face.
“Is what it?” he repeats in confusion.
