Page 17 of Fae Devoted (Fae Touched #3)
They’d traveled through the night to avoid the majority of shifters who, like most humans and witches, didn’t operate on what Abby referred to as Dádhe time —the hours between sundown and sunrise.
“I’ll fill the tank and then get us something to eat.” Johnnie pretended to rummage in the purse sitting on the passenger seat, careful not to look at the large male crammed lengthwise on the backseat.
“Ferwyn?” Jacob asked, tone surly.
Johnnie wished she could blame his crankiness on their recent entry into another príoh’s turf, the experience always unpleasant for any male bound to a foreign Alpha.
She barely felt a tingle as they crossed the magical line into Remington’s territory while Jacob turned a sickly shade of green.
But riding beside him in virtual silence for the past seven hours proved Johnnie was the cause of his foul temper.
She feigned sleep for most of the trip, determining it was better to leave Jacob alone rather than pepper him with a million questions. She was terrified he would turn the truck around and take her back to Memphis if reminded of her unwanted presence too often.
“Not at the pumps,” Johnnie answered on a yawn. And no vampires either as dawn was less than an hour away.
“Be quick.”
“Stay down,” she shot back.
“Be careful, Jo.”
“You seem to forget I’m not the one in danger of being arrested. Unlike you, I can justify traveling outside my home territory… no problemo .”
“You’re lying through your teeth.”
“But if I wasn’t, I’d be totally legal.” Johnnie sneaked a peek at the grumpy male on the too-short leather bench. His semi-clawed fingers tapped on the thigh of an awkwardly bent leg, his foot jiggling. “I’ll be right back.”
“Yes, you will.”
Curbing the immature urge to stick out her tongue at his bossiness, she reminded herself that a Ferwyn male’s natural impulse was to safeguard the pack, its females and pups in particular.
Sitting idle while Johnnie entered what Jacob considered unprotected territory, which was anything outside the truck’s confines, must be torturous for him.
And once the search for Jeremiah began in earnest, he would lose his mind knowing she was spending time alone with unknown males. Unmated Ferwyn ones at that.
Well, that’s his fault, not mine. If he’d cooperated…
“Jo?”
“Stop worrying. I’ll be fine.”
Unwilling to stake the growing need to pee on his fragile restraint, Johnnie grabbed her credit card, shoved the key in her front pocket, and opened the door.
Hopping down, she slammed it shut and activated the lock-button on the handle.
The tinted glass should keep Jacob hidden while the custom seals contained his scent and any sounds he might make, but why take any unnecessary risks?
She used her Visa at the pump and began fueling.
It was the last refill they’d need before reaching Detroit and DuPont’s casino, where Jeremiah was last seen.
After a few minutes, she set the nozzle to hands-free, clasped her hands high above her head, and stretched.
As a she-wolf, Johnnie wasn’t sore from a single night on the road but being awake for the past twenty-four hours had left her dead tired.
Dropping her hands to the small of her back, she pushed and twisted until her spine gave a satisfying crack.
The door panel vibrated as though kicked from within by a heavy boot.
“I’m going, I’m going.” She straightened, returned the nozzle, and replaced the gas cap. Wiping her hands on her jeans, she mumbled, “Bossy male.”
The darkened side windows kept Johnnie from seeing more than her reflection in the glass, but they didn’t prevent Jacob from seeing out.
Hiding a smile, she undid her braid and gathered her long hair over one shoulder.
Tilting her head to the side, she took her time running her fingers through the unbound length.
She made sure to lift her chin and arch her neck as she combed through the imaginary tangles, wanting Jacob to remember when his mouth was on her throat mere hours ago.
Nothing. The truck didn’t budge.
Was he even watching?
Johnnie released her hair and gave it an angry shake. Last night proved Jacob wanted her, yet he still hadn’t mentioned starting the Dance once they found Jeremiah.
If I Mark you, Jo, there will be sex.
If—not when. If!
“I want you, Jo, but I can’t,” she mimicked in her deepest voice, knowing Jacob couldn’t hear her through the truck’s soundproofing.
“Do you? Do you really? Well then, what the hell is stopping you, huh?” Turning on her heel, she stomped toward the small convenience store.
“And how about we address the elephant in the room, shall we?”
Oh Mylanta, that kiss!
Johnnie couldn’t imagine a better indicator that the magic of the mating pull existed between them than the moment his wolf appeared in his eyes, and his lips met hers. What further evidence did Jacob need?
Unless she was reading the signs all wrong again. Maybe it wasn’t the pull she felt at all, merely an intense sexual attraction that culminated in a kiss that hadn’t been anywhere in the vicinity of friendly. Wasn’t even in the same zip code.
Shit, she hated this self-doubt. It wasn’t like her, but she couldn’t seem to shake it.
A Ferwyn male’s instinct to claim a mate was almost impossible to ignore, and she didn’t understand why Jacob continued to resist if he felt it too.
Even an impending short separation to find Jeremiah shouldn’t have delayed the Dance’s initial step.
There were no side-effects from an abandoned first Mark, beyond the emotional ones formed whenever adding intimacy to a relationship.
Johnnie had a sinking feeling the magic used to compromise Jeremiah’s will was the real culprit, and it was somehow tied to Abby’s situation.
Her friend implied as much yesterday at the pool.
But wouldn’t a witch’s spell—if it were a witch’s spell—have dissipated and set Jeremiah free to make his own choices by now?
Whatever the reason for Jacob’s hesitancy, Johnnie couldn’t picture a scenario where she wouldn’t want to be his Ca’anam and sooner rather than later. She vowed to solve the mystery before they returned to Mud Island, even if she had to drag it from her closed-mouthed male one syllable at a time.
Her anger evaporated as suddenly as it appeared, and her steps faltered. Could Jacob believe there was a chance that they could be separated permanently? If she discounted her nagging self-doubts, it was the only answer that made a lick of sense from Jacob’s point of view.
An unbreakable connection existed between Ca’anam.
Their lives were magically intertwined and if one mate died, the other soon followed, or if a male, chose the way of the Glaofin to deal with his grief.
If Jacob believed there was the slightest chance they could be torn apart after completing the mating bond, he’d never risk it. Never risk her .
“Can I help you?” The young man behind the cash register regarded her with a wariness suggesting Johnnie had been lost in the space between her ears too long, or he noticed her talking to herself. Maybe both.
“Oh, sorry,” she said, still shaken by the mere thought of losing Jacob forever. “I was looking for the bathroom.”
He pointed to a nearby hallway with a white sign on the wall marked restrooms in bold black lettering.
“Um, thanks.”
She took care of her business and was on a mission to find Jacob’s favorite brand of pepperoni sticks when she smelled them.
“Hello, pretty she-wolf.”
“Hey,” Johnnie replied, barely glancing at the pair of unmated Ferwyn males standing at the end of the aisle. Although she-wolves couldn’t decipher levels of dominance, the duo’s single status may as well be a neon billboard flashing above their heads.
Dammit, she didn’t have time to deal with these two.
Striding to the refrigerated section, she grabbed bottled waters, a peach-flavored iced tea for herself, and a high-calorie drink for Jacob. If overly delayed, she wouldn’t put it past her beta to leave the truck’s tenuous safety to check on her.
“Need help?” the taller of the shifters asked, gesturing to the growing pile of snacks in her arms.
“I got it,” she said minus her usual friendliness. Dumping her haul on the counter, she turned and almost ran into the first shifter’s clanmate.
“You alone?” His nostril flared, and his eyes lit with masculine interest.
Giving him a wide berth, Johnnie reached into the glass warming trays and chose four wrapped burritos, adding them to the rest of her purchases. Leaving his question unanswered, she slid the chip end of her Visa into the card reader.
“I’m Brandon Fuller, and this is my Groverman Pack brother, Michael Townsend,” the tall one again. “Clan Remington, East North Central.”
“Joan Long, Walker Pack. Clan Walker, East South Central,” she reciprocated the formal Ferwyn introduction in Jacob-speak, utilizing the bare minimum of words required without being rude.
Hoping they’d take the hint, she collected her purchases and thanked the cashier.
The poor man’s scent sharpened with anxiety.
She wouldn’t be surprised to find him gripping a gun underneath the counter, for all the good it would do if the shifter males decided to attack.
“Nice to meet you, Joan Long,” the one named Michael said. “Are you searching?”
Searching , for a truemate he meant.
Johnnie nodded instead of voicing the lie and increasing the scent of her deceit. There wasn’t another adequate excuse for her to be outside Clan Walker’s borders, and they knew it.
“Are you staying in town?” Brandon asked as she made a beeline for the exit. The shifter sped past her and held the door open. “Our Alpha has a guest house with available rooms if you need a place.”
She couldn’t help softening her tone at the males’ hopeful expressions. “Thank you, but no. I’m traveling farther north.”