The Range is nothing like Blackshaw pack land. It doesn't even come close.
As I sit tucked in the back of Frank's black Honda sedan, I stay quiet.
In the seat beside me, Kier is just as silent, though I doubt he's thinking what I'm thinking, which is mostly: what the hell have I gotten myself into?
It's not so much that I'm afraid. Uneasy would be a more accurate description, and only because getting to the Range took nearly an hour.
I'm also wary, because if Kier and I have to leave in a hurry, we're going to have a problem. From the tension I feel radiating from him, I have a feeling that we're going to want to do that sooner rather than later.
So, getting back to our vehicles is going to take a minute. That's if we attempt it on two feet instead of shifting and running on four.
Who am I kidding? Even on four feet, it would take a while because Frank wasn't driving slow. There's still no guarantee we'd make it back to Dexter, not if they pursued us by car.
The worst thing is that we'd have almost nowhere to hide because the long, silent drive revealed a sparse and mostly deserted mountain town with short, straw-like grass on either side of the road and even deader-looking trees. It was seriously depressing.
At least, that was what I thought until we got to the Range, a place that resembles an abandoned army barracks.
This isn't a lush forest set in the mountains like I grew up with in Hardin. While there are some trees dotted around dark red-brown wooden cabins, they aren't vibrant and green and full of life.
Maybe in spring things are a little prettier, but I doubt it, not when everything looks like it's dead or dying. If I squint, I can just make out a bare hint of green grass and trees set far off in the distance, near the mountains.
Bleak would sum this place up. And that's me being generous. It would have killed my soul if I'd grown up in this mountain town, I think, as I climb out of the car.
I don't understand how all the pack live here. At least in town, there's something to look at. Not much, but something.
Here, there are a handful of identical dark stained cabins and a wooden, single-story farmhouse. None appear looked after, at least not by anyone who cares enough to give it love.
Love. That's the ingredient missing in this place.
Instead of heading for the farmhouse, Frank leads us away from it. Since it would make sense for the alpha of this barren wasteland to live in the biggest house here, I'm more than a little surprised that he's walking us to one of the smallest cabins.
Still keeping his body between mine and Frank's, Kier speaks for the first time since we left Dexter. "I'm here to see the alpha."
Frank doesn't slow or even glance back. "And you'll see him, have no fears about that. Right now, he's occupied with other matters."
On the heels of his words, a shrill scream has me peering over my shoulder at the farmhouse. As if to clear up any confusion I might have about where the sound is coming from, or what's going on, a second later, it's followed by a wetter, more pained cry.
Although I shift my gaze to Kier, it's Frank who speaks. "Don't mind the noise. It'll stop soon."
And sure enough, it does. With bone-cracking finality, which tells me everything I need to know about this pack and its alpha. It also tells me that whoever was doing the screaming won't be getting back up again.
"This a typical Sunday for you?" I ask because now I'm beginning to understand why Kier was so determined for me to leave this town.
Frank comes to a stop at one of the small wooden cabins and turns to me. "Mostly. You'll be staying here."
Neither Kier nor I move.
"That wasn't a suggestion," Frank says, mildly.
I open my mouth, ready to complain. Only to change my mind when, out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse the burly shifters from outside the pizza place heading in our direction.
Kier's hand closes around my arm. He practically drags me up the single step into the cabin, closes the door behind us, and continues dragging me through the one-room cabin.
I have maybe a second to take in the bed with a navy comforter, a pale wood bedside table, and off to one side a small sink, beer fridge, and a couple of shelves.
That's all I see before Kier tugs me into the bathroom, a space as cozy as the bedroom, housing only a sink, toilet and a shower stall. After slamming the door shut behind us, he turns to me.
Before I can demand to know what the hell he's doing, he has me pinned against the wall with his lips crushed against mine.
For a long moment, I don't respond. I'm too busy working out what's going on and why. I'm also confused, because with the way Kier was fighting against us being together, him suddenly dragging me into the bathroom to kiss the living daylights out of me was not what I was expecting. At all.
Still, it doesn't take long before I'm looping my arms around his shoulders and curling a leg around his hips as I kiss him back, my eyes closed so I can soak up every last bit of pleasure from this unexpected moment.
His lips leave mine and glide along my jaw, making my breath catch. But when his lips trail hot kisses on my neck, I don't even try to silence my moan.
Soon, his mouth returns to mine for another round of drugging kisses. When I nip his lower lip, it's his turn to groan low in his throat before he slants his head and our kiss intensifies.
Just as I'm sliding my hands under his shirt, intending to rip the material off him, he suddenly lifts his head and tilts it toward the door.
I blink up at him. "Kier?"
When he lowers his head, I see the heat in his eyes has dialed way down. Like it's not even there anymore. "Come with me," he says, and without waiting for a response, he grabs my hand and tows me out of the bathroom, through the cabin, and back outside again.
Frank and his heavies have gone, probably to deal with whoever was screaming in the farmhouse. It's quiet though, almost peaceful with the bright sunny sky darkening into late afternoon.
Now that we're outside, it doesn't take me long to work out what Kier's game plan is. "This isn't going to work."
"Once we find somewhere for you to shift, it will." Kier doesn't slow his fast pace, which means I'm having to move at a near jog to keep up.
"And what makes you think I'm going to do what you say?"
"You heard what happened to that shifter? Are you telling me you want that to happen to you?"
No. No, I don't. But that doesn't mean I'm about to leave Kier to face this on his own. Whatever this is, that brought him here to Dexter.
"Look, if you just tell me what's going on here, I can help you. I can be an asset to you… even though you don't deserve it for making me moan just so Frankie and his heavies would leave. And slow down."
He darts a glance at me. It's fast, but I still catch the hint of a smile on his lips. "Frankie and his heavies?"
"Oh, come on, just laugh already. You know you want to."
Kier doesn't laugh, though to my relief he slows down enough that I no longer have to run. "It's too dangerous for you to be here."
"But not dangerous enough to stop you from staying and dealing with it alone? Without anyone to watch your back?"
"You're five-three and have never had to deal with the sort of danger we're going to find here."
"I'm five-three and three quarters. I've known danger, and I'm sneaky as hell. You can use my help."
He stops and turns to me. "No, Hallee. We're far enough away from the cabins. Now shift and get back to town. I'll cover for you until you can get far enough away that they can't catch up to you."
I make no move to undress.
"Hallee!" Kier snarls. "Strip."
"No. You need my help and whether you want it or not, you're getting it."
He closes his hands around my arms and shakes me. "Hallee."
"I said no, Kier. It's not going to happen. There's nothing you can say or do to convince me either, so don't bother."
We stare at each other for several seconds in complete silence before Kier releases my arms to grab the hem of my shirt. He tugs the material up. "Yes, you are."
I grab his hands and pull down. "I'm not. And I swear if you rip my shirt, you'll have to deal with the consequences."
He tugs up as I yank down.
When material tears, I growl at him. "Kier. I liked this top. What the fuck!"
"I told you, Hallee, you are-" He stops so suddenly that at first, I'm confused about why until I turn to my right to discover that we're no longer alone.
Frankie and his heavies are standing a few feet away, observing us blank-faced, and despite what must look like a ridiculous argument, no one is laughing.
"Oh, hi," I call out.
When Kier releases me, I bend my head to see how badly he ripped my shirt. At the sight of the long tear running up the front, I raise my head to glare at him. "You destroyed it. I told you it was one of my favorites."
Before Kier can respond, Frank does. "What are you doing here?"
"Out for a walk," Kier says.
Unfortunately, while he's saying that, I'm calling out, "Sexy time."
Kier slow blinks. "Sexy time?"
Since Frank and his heavies are right there, it's not like I can tell him this plan bears a striking resemblance to his. It got rid of our watchers before, and it makes sense that it would work again. So, I try to communicate it with a long look instead.
From his raised brow, I think he gets it, but isn't convinced.
With the benefit of hindsight, neither am I.
"Well," Frank says in a dry tone. "Alpha has invited you to an early dinner. Both of you. Since we're here, we'll escort you back to your room. Give you a chance to get freshened up first."
Again, there's no hint of this being a suggestion. It's nothing less than an order, so I treat it like one.
With Kier close beside me and Frankie and his heavies following in our wake, we make the short but silent walk back to our cabin.