Page 34 of Corbin (Wild Wolf Pack from the world of Gallize Shifters #2)

Eirene had a denim bag slung over her shoulder. Did Corbin not hear her? She repeated her words with more urgency as she neared him. “ We. Have. To. Go! ”

Corbin moved faster than lightning and jumped up, grabbing her shoulders so they didn’t collide. “What’s wrong?”

Seeing fury in his face worried her until she realized it was out of concern for her. “Police and SCIS are on the way here. I got a text from my trustee, the bastard. He learned that I had been seen leaving my apartment on your motorcycle. He sent the police and SCIS for you!”

“How would he even know we’re here or who I am?”

“I don’t know. We don’t have time to talk.”

Corbin offered, “I could call my people and get help with this.”

“No, you can’t. If they’re shifters too, Leszek will not hesitate to send a horde of monsters after them.

He’s willing to do anything to keep full control of his golden goose.

I think Leszek likely cut a deal with SCIS to leave me alone as long as I’m his responsibility.

I also think he has the police in his pockets. ”

A siren shrilled in the distance.

He gave her a look stuffed with incredulity. He grabbed the bag from her shoulder, tossed his phone into it, and hooked the strap over his shoulder. “Is there another way into the garage from the outside besides the overhead door at the street?”

Standing still, she stared at nothing, then snapped her fingers. “There’s a refuse elevator rarely used with no one permanently living in the building. The access is a smaller garage door on the rear of the building. There’s a little road out there for any tenant to use.”

“Perfect.” He vibrated with the need to move. “Ready to go?”

“Yes.” She did not add that she was terrified after being shot at last night, but she had asked the universe for ninja skills.

Her request had been answered in an on-the-job training sort of way.

“Stay with me.” He gripped her hand and towed her to the stairs he’d noted this morning.

Watching his every move, she hurried down behind on the pads of her feet, mimicking his low-noise descent.

He opened the door to the basement floor, looked around, and pulled her out behind him.

Sirens wailed, getting closer.

Calm and confident, he strode across the floor to where a sign above a door warned not to enter the trash collection area. It was locked.

He asked, “Do you have anything like a hairpin?”

“No, but I have a universal key to this building.” She dug it out and handed the key to him.

“Love it.” He kissed her quickly and opened the door to look inside, then handed the key back to her. “Stand here while I get the bike.”

He ran over to his bike, kicked the stand up, then leaned it into him and wheeled it over to where she held the door open.

Once in the trash area with the access door locked behind them, she heard the streetside garage door roll up and voices coming into the building.

She ran to catch up with Corbin, who now had his bike in front of the smaller garage door.

He released the manual locks at the bottom on each side and slowly rolled the door up.

When it was far enough for them to get out with the motorcycle, he said, “Sounds like people went upstairs first to search and are now coming back down. Put on the helmet. The minute I start the bike, jump on and hold tight. Which way should we go?”

“I don’t know. Left?” she guessed since she’d never exited from the back of the building. She had the helmet on and strapped when he started the bike. She hopped on and wrapped her arms around him, hoping they could escape.

Corbin rode the bike out and along the paved area to the left. Beyond a chain link fence bordering that road were train tracks. He slid to a stop. This paved area at the back did not connect to a road on the left end.

They couldn’t get out.

Evidently, that did not faze Corbin, who made a tight U-turn and raced back the way he’d come. As he passed the still-open trash garage door, a man wearing an SCIS uniform ran outside shouting at their backs.

At the other end of the building, she could see a sort-of outlet that wrapped around to the front.

A trained ninja would have known every exit point.

She should never play craps with her kind of luck. She called out, “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

He patted her hand on his stomach, and she stopped worrying. Leszek and others had criticized her every move if it didn’t suit their goals, but Corbin blew off a bad decision by moving on.

When Corbin closed to within fifteen yards of the corner, he went wide left and leaned into a sharp right turn.

When they rounded the end of the building, a black sport utility drove slowly toward them and stayed close to the building as if trying to sneak around without alerting anyone.

Too late for that.

Corbin had a narrow gap between that vehicle and a continuation of the tall chain-link fence.

He moved the bike as far left as possible.

She shut her eyes. She believed in Corbin’s ability to split that space but couldn’t watch with her heart hiding in her throat.

The bike leaned right again. She held onto him for dear life.

When the lean ended, she peeked around his shoulder. They had passed the sport utility, but police cruisers, an SCIS vehicle, and four officers were between them and their exit point to the road.

They spread out. What were they thinking?

That Corbin would wreck trying to weave between them, which might have worked if he hadn’t hunkered down and ridden the bike up a flower-landscaped embankment that sent them airborne over the driveway.

Corbin landed the bike on the rear tire.

Rubber squealed, the front dropped down, then he sped away.

She felt dizzy from the terror and hope that hugged each other until the bike stabilized.

If she ever did a reality show, this would be the man she’d want as a partner who had quiet confidence under pressure. He didn’t yell at her for making a mistake on which way to go. Her confidence grew by staying calm, trying not to distract him in a hairy situation.

He called over his shoulder, “Did I scare you?”

Lying would be useless. “A little.”

His hand dropped down to pat her knee. “You did great.”

She hadn’t realized she’d been waiting on someone who could share the good and bad of her life, but she never believed she could trust another male enough to open her heart again after losing Corbin.

In hindsight, she’d been right.

Sirens filled the air—more than one.

Corbin yelled, “ Lock your hands at my waist and don’t loosen them for anything! ”

Oh, no. That didn’t sound good, but she did exactly what he said. Her heart hadn’t slowed down from that last stunt. Pounding frantically now, she wondered if a shifter had ever died of a heart attack.

She refused to allow that to happen and distract Corbin.

He took two turns, then another one, then one more to emerge back on the road they’d been on heading away from the theater group’s building.

Now the bike was pointed back the way they’d come.

What was he doing? Sirens were getting louder.

Cars ahead were peeling off to each side of the two-lane road. The police cruisers had nothing slowing them down.

Not police cruisers. Those were SCIS. A rifle poked out from a rear passenger window on the right side followed by the upper body of a man pulling the weapon up to take aim.

Corbin shouted, “Keep your head down!”

She felt his shoulder move with him pulling her denim bag free before he twisted his neck and gave a quick glance back before looking forward again. He gripped the top of the bag in his left fist as the motorcycle screamed toward the guy with the rifle who held it pointed at Corbin.

A bullet struck a sign they passed. She clamped her mouth shut to keep a scream caught inside.

The bike roared closer to the attacking vehicle, clearly passing on the shooter’s side.

She heard another crack from the rifle but had no idea where that bullet went.

In the next seconds, Corbin swung her bag, knocking the rifle upward, which smacked the shooter’s head. Then he yanked the bag back and shoved it over his shoulder. “Put it between us.”

She fumbled with the one task he had given her but managed to stuff the bag into her lap and locked her arms around him again.

He made multiple fast turns right and left, leaving her confused about where they were until he rolled onto the interstate. When he rode north on Interstate 26, she let out the breath that had backed up in her lungs at leaving Spartanburg.

Safe, for a minute.

How far could they go before someone found them again?