I tapped the steering wheel. Donovan?

I’m coming! Just wait one more minute.

He was taking too long. That minute could mean the difference between his mother living and dying.

No. I wasn’t risking it. Gravel skidded out from under the tires as I accelerated down the driveway, but I didn’t get far before someone darted out in front of my car.

“Shit!” I screamed as I downshifted, trying to stop before I hit my mate. Warn me next time you’re about to do something that stupid.

I told you to wait! He slid into the passenger side and slammed the door. “Go.”

I shifted into gear and gunned the car down the drive. “You’re not dressed. What were you doing if you weren’t getting clothes?”

“There are clothes in the trunk. I’ll get them later. I had to tell Ian what to do. You’re right about the pack needing more of an emergency plan. You wouldn’t happen to have your phone on you?”

“Yeah.” I pulled it out of my hoodie pocket and handed it to him.

He dialed quickly. “Stephen,” he said as soon as someone answered. “It’s Donovan Murry. Is my mother around?” Donovan motioned to the right as we hit the end of the drive. I didn’t slow down, sliding a little as I made the turn.

“Ehm. No. It’s Tuesday, right?”

“Aye.”

I’d made the trip into town once before, so I knew it wasn’t but five minutes away. Donovan motioned to the left. That wasn’t the way I’d come last time, but I hoped it was a shortcut.

“Tuesdays she takes tea in town. She fancies the place with—”

“Nice icing on the petit fours. Called L’Ami.” Right here.

That’s barely an alley.

Right.

I took the alley, but it was too narrow. My left side mirror hit a trash can and the garbage spilled into someone’s garage.

“Yes. That’s it. Is there something—?”

Donovan didn’t wait for Stephen to finish. He hung up. “Right up here. Faster. Please.”

I hit the gas, thankfully leaving the alley for a wider road. A huge truck came at us, and I wasn’t sure we could pass each other. Shit. Maybe the alley was better.

Normally, I would’ve slowed and pulled over, but not this time. My right side mirror smacked the brush on the roadside. The truck honked, but I wasn’t slowing.

It roared past, and I took a breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “You people are nuts with your tiny roads.”

“Left here.” His panic was starting to bleed through our bond, making mine worse.

I tried to breathe through it. One of us had to stay calm. “Where?” There was nothing but fields on either side of the road. I didn’t see any intersections coming up either.

“Here.”

What? He wasn’t thinking clearly. “There’s no road—”