Chapter 19

Remy knew he was still alive because his head was pounding like a drum. He stifled a groan, grimacing at the pain. Shit, his mouth tasted like he’d been eating dirt. He took a breath—or tried to, anyway. Damn, he could barely breathe. Or move. What the hell was wrapped around him?

As he fought to open his eyes, memories rushed back—being in the park with Triana, kissing her, getting shot with frigging tranquilizer darts, and running. Then a van screeching to a stop…and men with guns. They’d shot him and grabbed Triana.

The image of Quinn knocking her unconscious snapped Remy out of the haze he’d been trapped in. Lifting his head, he lunged forward.

He didn’t make it very far. Actually, he didn’t make it anywhere.

With a growl, he looked down and saw a heavy chain wrapped around his bare chest and arms, not only binding him, but also holding him off the floor so he was barely touching the metal decking beneath him. He glanced up to see the chain disappearing into the darkness above him, when he heard someone laugh.

“Looks like someone just figured out how fucked he really is.”

Quinn’s amused voice echoed in the ship’s cargo hold. Based on the familiar scent, it was the same vessel Remy and his pack mates had searched on that raid earlier in the week.

Remy looked over to see Quinn standing to one side in the near darkness of the ship’s hold. Aaron Lee was beside him, his arms crossed, a curious expression on his face. Behind him were two more of his goons that Remy vaguely remembered from the shoot-out at the front gate of Lee’s home.

He paid little attention to the men. The only person he cared about was Triana. She was sitting on a pallet of bags filled with grain half a dozen feet away. Remy’s heart almost stopped when he saw that she was alive. Then he smelled the blood, saw it streaked through her hair and staining the left shoulder of her rain jacket. He growled long and low. He was going to enjoy killing every single one of these men.

Remy searched her face, looking for any other signs of further injury, but all he saw was a mix of relief and concern in her beautiful blue-gray eyes.

“Amazing,” Lee said, moving closer to study his chest. Or more precisely, the two bullet wounds that should have been fatal but had instead closed over already. “I knew Rufus had taken a bullet in the chest before, but I never dreamed a werewolf could recover so quickly from such an injury.”

Letting out another growl, Remy lifted his legs and kicked out at Lee’s head. The older man quickly backpedaled. Not that it mattered. The angle had been all wrong anyway. If not, the son of a bitch would have been eating through a straw for a few months—if Remy didn’t kill him first.

Lee glared at him for a moment, then nodded at Quinn. Lee’s enforcer grabbed Triana by the arm and jerked her to her feet. Remy snarled, straining against the chains holding him, but the frigging things didn’t so much as creak.

Smirking, Quinn pulled out a hunting knife from the sheath at his belt and pressed the blade to Triana’s neck.

“Try something like that again, and I’ll have him slit her throat,” Lee warned.

Remy stilled. He had no idea what Lee had planned, but he was going to have to bide his time until he could figure out how to get out of these damn chains. He didn’t know how he was going to do that, but he swore he would. And when he did, the only issue would be which one of the men died first.

Lee stepped closer again, and this time Remy was forced to let him. The man examined the wounds on his chest before going around to do the same to the ones on his back. Remy didn’t point out that the healing wouldn’t be nearly as impressive if either of the bullets were still inside him. A werewolf’s body couldn’t heal itself properly if foreign material was still in the wound. The outer skin would still close over in an instinctive attempt to keep from bleeding out, but the soft tissue and bones would never reknit, resulting in a hell of a lot of pain.

“You’ve lived a very violent life, I see,” Lee said as he finished a complete circuit and came to stand in front of Remy again. “You’ve been shot, what? A dozen times?”

“Something like that,” Remy ground out, wondering once again where the hell this was going.

Lee leveled his gaze at him. “You’re going to turn me into a werewolf, or I will do things to your woman that you couldn’t imagine in your worst nightmare.”

Remy stared at him, stunned into silence. His heart dropped into his stomach. Lee would kill him and Triana the moment he figured out Remy couldn’t do what he wanted.

Shit.

He was trying to come up with something he could say to Lee to either delay what was about to happen or, better yet, turn the tables on the madman, when Triana interrupted him.

“It’s a curse,” she said quietly. “In his blood.”

Remy gave her a sharp look, wondering what Triana was doing. Quinn was still holding on to her, the knife dangerously close to her neck. But she didn’t look at Remy. Instead, her gaze was fixed on Lee.

“A curse?” Lee laughed. “Now I know you’re full of shit. I don’t believe in any of that crap.”

“You don’t believe in them, yet you’re okay with a man becoming a werewolf?” she said. “Why do you think he and my father came to the voodoo shop in the first place? They came because they wanted a way to break the curse.”

Lee regarded Triana suspiciously for a moment before pinning Remy with a look. “Is this true?”

Remy still wasn’t sure what Triana’s plan was, but at least she seemed to have one, so he went with it. “Yes. I didn’t know what was happening to me or even what I was. I thought Triana’s mother could help me.”

Lee turned to Triana again. “You said it’s in his blood. If I inject myself with it, will it turn me into a werewolf?”

“No,” she said. “The only way a werewolf can turn a person is to bite them.”

Lee paled, and for the first time, Remy heard the man’s heart beat a little faster. He shook his head. “There has to be another way.”

“There isn’t,” Triana insisted. “The curse has to be passed through a bite, just like in the movies.”

Lee considered that for a moment, then jabbed a finger at her. “You’d better not be lying to me, or you’re dead.”

Triana didn’t flinch. “You might want to rethink that, since you’ll need my help to survive the change. Especially if he has to bite you more than once.”

Lee’s eyes narrowed. “You’re just saying that to save your neck. And his. Why the hell would he need to bite me more than once?”

“This isn’t science, you know,” she shot back. “It’s voodoo magic. If you want to be a werewolf, you’re going to have to keep both of us around.”

Remy finally realized what Triana was doing, and he had to admit, it was brilliant. She’d created a situation where Lee couldn’t kill either of them, not if he wanted to become a werewolf.

As inspired as the deception was, Remy was even more impressed with how convincing Triana sounded. For a woman who’d told him several times she didn’t buy any of this magic stuff, she was doing one hell of a good job selling herself as a voodoo priestess. Even though Remy knew how werewolves worked, he liked Triana’s version better.

Lee looked at the two other men in the hold. “Get me something to stand on.”

When they brought over a wooden crate, Lee stepped up on it and rolled the sleeve of his dress shirt to his elbow, exposing his forearm. “Go ahead and bite me. And when I say let go, you’d better do it or Quinn will take great pleasure in scooping an eye right out of her pretty head.”

Remy only growled in answer. He was tempted to suggest a bite to the neck would work better, but he doubted he’d get Lee to go along with that. He had no idea what was going to happen after he bit Lee, but he prayed Triana had something in that clever head of hers that would get him out of these chains.

Lee glanced at the two men who’d brought over the crate. “Be ready to shoot him if he doesn’t let go.” He shoved his arm in front of Remy’s face. “Well, get on with it.”

Remy eyed Lee for a long moment, then opened his mouth, letting his fangs slowly extend to their full length of an inch and a half. Lee went as pale as a ghost at the sight, but Remy didn’t give him time to change his mind. He clamped his teeth down on Lee’s forearm so hard he hit bone. He’d never bitten a person before, but then again, up until now, he’d never had a desire to. Sinking his teeth into Lee was satisfying as hell, though. The wolf inside wanted out to tear the asshole to pieces.

Remy ignored Lee’s order to stop, immersed in the feeling of a rippling sensation spreading over his body as every muscle spasmed. He had no idea why it was happening, but he was shifting. The only other time he’d managed a full shift, it had hurt like a son of a bitch. This time…not so much.

Little by little, the chains around his chest loosened.

“I said, let the fuck go!” Lee shouted, punching him.

Remy would have ignored him, but then he heard Triana whimper in pain and knew he couldn’t do anything to risk Quinn hurting her. He retracted his fangs and pulled away, resisting the urge to rip Lee’s forearm off.

Lee stumbled off the boxes and over to Triana, holding his bloody arm out to her. “Is this deep enough? You’d better tell me it is because it hurt like hell.”

Triana looked at the wound. “I think so. We’ll only know for sure if you change.”

“When will that be?” he demanded, wrapping his other hand around his arm, trying to stanch the flow of blood.

“It could be a few minutes or a few hours,” she said. “I don’t know.”

“You’d better not be lying to me.” Lee cursed. “Someone get me something to stop the bleeding, and hurry the hell up!”

Remy only half listened as Lee rambled on about how much his arm frigging hurt. He was too busy trying to breathe through the muscle spasms making his whole body shiver. Luckily, Lee’s men were so focused on bandaging his arm they didn’t notice the chains around Remy’s chest slip another inch as his torso tried to morph into its new shape. If he kept shifting, there was a good chance he’d be able to scramble his way out at some point.

Keep distracting them a little while longer, Triana.

He felt the bizarre sensation of fur slowly sprouting on his back, when the sound of gunfire erupted from somewhere outside the ship.

“What the hell is that?” Lee demanded at the same time one of his men yanked out his cell phone and shoved it to his ear.

The man listened for a moment, then his eyes widened. “It’s the cops,” he told Lee as he hung up. “There are at least a half-dozen of them. Looks like SWAT.”

Lee cursed. “Quinn, bring her.” He turned to the other two men. “You come with us,” he said to one of them, then looked at the other. “You shoot him in the head.”

The bastard didn’t hang around to see if everyone followed orders, but instead ran for the exit.

Triana screamed, fighting against Quinn even as Remy struggled against the chain binding him. When it held fast, Remy struggled harder, but that only served to slow down his body’s transformation. He growled in frustration. It took every ounce of willpower to force himself to relax and let his body finish shifting while Quinn wrapped his arms around a struggling Triana and carried her up the metal stairs at the far end of the cargo hold.

Remy hadn’t realized how far his face had shifted until the man Lee had ordered to kill him stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening in fear. He lifted his pistol, trying to aim, but his hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t hold the thing steady. Remy took advantage of that, lunging at the guy with a ferocious snarl.

Scared shitless, the man backpedaled and squeezed the trigger. The bullet zipped past Remy and ricocheted around the hold a few times before thumping into something behind him.

While the man stood there in shock, Remy’s shoulders cracked and popped as he shifted further. A few more seconds and he would be free.

Abruptly, the sensation of Triana moving farther away hit him. This is taking too long, dammit. No matter how terrified Lee’s henchman might be, at some point he’d get his act together and put a bullet through Remy’s head.

As if reading Remy’s mind, the man squared his shoulders and came closer, pointing the suddenly much steadier weapon right at his forehead.

With his feet on the floor now, Remy wasn’t nearly as defenseless as he looked. He brought his right leg up, catching the man’s arm with his booted foot and sending the pistol flying. The man was so busy trying to see where the weapon went he never saw Remy’s boot come up again and catch him under the jaw.

Remy slipped out of the hoist chain and hit the floor at the same time Lee’s goon did. He immediately jumped to his feet, ready to go at the guy again, but the man was out cold.

Turning, Remy headed for the stairs, but barely made it two steps before his legs gave out as the wolf completely took over his body.

Remy wasn’t sure if it was the urgent need to go after Triana, or if he was simply more accepting of the transformation this time. Either way, the full shift came fast, bones breaking and reforming, muscles tearing and reshaping to cover a new, sleeker shape.

Getting out of his pants proved to be a challenge since wolves didn’t have opposable thumbs, and he was forced to roll around on the floor like a drunk puppy to get out of the things. Luckily, his boots and socks just fell off.

Finally free, Remy raced for the stairs, amazed at the acceleration he was able to get out of this four-wheel-drive version of his body. Then he hit the steps and nearly broke his frigging neck as his legs went out from under him. It was a lot easier to speed up in this body than it was to slow down, but he got his long legs back under him and scrambled up the stairs, through the serpentine maze of corridors and out onto the deck.

Triana was already in a car speeding away from the dock by the time Remy got topside. Ignoring the shoot-out between Lee’s men on the deck of the ship and his pack mates on the shore, he headed for the gangway, slamming into anyone who got in his way. His presence freaked the hell out of Lee’s men, and several of them jumped overboard to avoid him.

Remy leaped off the gangway and headed for Chartres Street, veering east as he quickly covered ground. He wasn’t following any of his usual senses because he couldn’t see where they were taking Triana and he couldn’t smell her. But the connection he had to her told him he was headed toward her.

A wolf of any size running down the middle of New Orleans was sure to gain attention. A wolf his size was going to make people lose their minds. But he couldn’t do anything about it. He only hoped the darkness and the rain would keep people off the streets.

He’d just turned and headed toward the bridge that would take him to the Lower Ninth Ward when his ears picked up a quiet rapid-fire thumping sound. He turned his head to see what the hell was coming up behind him when he smelled Cooper.

A moment later, the team’s demo expert—also in his wolf form—raced up beside him. Remy would have thanked his pack mate for the backup if he could speak. But since he couldn’t, he concentrated on catching up to the car taking Triana farther and farther away from him.

* * *

Triana gripped the door handle with one hand and the seat belt strap with the other, holding on for dear life as the big Cadillac swerved around the vehicle in front of them and almost slammed into the side railing of the bridge over the Industrial Canal.

“Slow the hell down,” Lee shouted from the front seat as he bounced off the door. “There’s no one behind us. We’re fine.”

The man driving didn’t seem so sure of that, but as they came off the bridge into the Lower Ninth Ward, he slowed down a bit. He still kept checking the rearview mirror every five seconds though.

“Stay on Forty-Six until it crosses Thirty-Nine,” Quinn said casually from his place in the backseat beside her.

The jerk had gone out of his way to cozy up close to her from the moment he’d thrown her in the backseat at the dock. Triana had tried to push him away more than once, but all he did was laugh and move next to her again.

“There’s a yacht waiting for us in slip eighteen,” he told the driver. “We’ll be in the Gulf and beyond the reach of the police an hour after we get on board.”

Triana’s stomach clenched. The thought of being trapped on a boat with these men, especially Quinn, for any length of time terrified her. But that wasn’t going to happen. Somehow, some way, Remy was going to find her before it was too late.

She’d almost lost that hope when she heard the gunshot down in the hold of the ship when Quinn had been dragging her away. She’d thought for sure Remy was dead. He was strung up on a chain, unable to move more than an inch or two, so there was no way he could avoid a bullet. And yet something inside her refused to believe Remy was dead. She would have felt it if he were. She knew it in her heart.

So, until she knew otherwise, she was going to believe Remy was still alive and coming after her.

In the front seat, Lee cursed. Twisting in his seat to look at her, he held up his arm. Blood had seeped through the makeshift bandage he’d wrapped around it. “My arm still hurts as much as it did when that mutt first bit me. When will the pain stop?”

Hopefully never, Triana wanted to say but didn’t. She had to keep Lee believing all the crap she’d been telling him about becoming a werewolf until Remy showed up.

“Soon,” she said. “The pain is a good sign. It means the change is already happening.”

Lee studied her for a moment like he was trying to figure out if she was lying to him. He must have decided she wasn’t because he nodded and turned back around in his seat, a small smile on his face.

Triana was still shocked she’d been able to talk Lee into letting Remy bite him. She’d been playing for time when she’d started the whole werewolf story, praying she could delay things long enough for Remy to get loose. She never dreamed Lee would agree. He must have been even more desperate for power than she thought.

She was scooting closer to the door when she felt Remy somewhere nearby. A split second later, she caught a blur of movement in the darkness to the right of the car. Pulse racing, she turned her head to look out the window as something slammed into the front passenger door so hard the window shattered. The big car rocked on its suspension, one side of the vehicle nearly coming up off the road. Crap, it was like they’d been hit with a wrecking ball.

The driver swerved the car away from the impact, crossing over a narrow, grassy median and into the double lane of oncoming traffic before ending up on a side street, taking them deeper into the Ninth Ward.

“What the hell was that?” Quinn shouted.

He pulled a large pistol from behind his back, waving it around like he thought whatever hit the car was going to join them in it any second. Triana didn’t have a clue what was happening, but she knew it had something to do with Remy. She could feel him out there.

In the front seat, Lee was brushing glass off his clothes and telling the driver to get the hell back on the highway. But the streets were a little tighter in this part of town, forcing the man to slow down as he looked for a place to turn around. The Ninth Ward had been the section of the city hit the hardest during Katrina. Some of the structures had been rebuilt, but there were still a lot of abandoned and overgrown homes too. It was hard to see this part of town and not realize that a lot of people had never recovered from the storm.

Triana peered out the side window, looking for Remy, when the window in the driver’s side door suddenly shattered. The next thing she knew, the driver was gone, getting ripped out of the car and disappearing into the darkness with a scream.

Quinn cursed and threw himself over the front seat, lunging for the wheel, but it was too late. Triana ducked as the front of the Cadillac plowed into an overgrown wall surrounding a dilapidated house. The car hit the brick wall doing at least thirty miles an hour and the impact was loud and violent. Thank God she’d taken the time to put on her seat belt or she would have joined Quinn and Lee in the front seat.

The vehicle ended up perched on the remains of the wall, the front tires off the ground. Triana didn’t wait to see if Quinn and Lee were alive. She popped her seat belt, opened the door, and scrambled out.

She didn’t get more than a few feet before Quinn caught up with her. He wrapped an arm around her neck, yanking her against his chest as he backed away from the car toward the house. His breath was loud in her ear as he pointed his gun in every direction at once. The area didn’t have a lot of streetlamps and the rain was only making it worse. If it wasn’t for the car’s headlights, they’d have had a hard time seeing anything.

Lee joined them a moment later, pulling his pistol out as he squinted into the darkness, trying to see down the street. Triana turned her head to see a man lying there. It might have been the driver of the car, but it was hard to tell at this distance. He wasn’t moving though, that much she was sure of.

Suddenly, an animal darted across the street. It was big and fast—much too big and too fast to be a dog.

Another animal followed the first, this one just as big. Whatever they were, there were two of them.

As the animals slowly came out from behind the building they’d been behind, Triana realized they were wolves. The biggest wolves she’d ever seen in her life. If they’d been standing beside her, their withers would have been level with her hips.

Triana’s breath hitched as the wolves’ glowing yellow eyes pierced the darkness. One of them was Remy. She didn’t know how that was possible, but she instinctively knew it was him.

Eyes fixed on her and the two men, Remy and the other wolf slowly moved toward them, baring their teeth in fierce snarls.

Muttering a curse, Lee turned and ran toward the house behind them, shouting at Quinn to follow. Quinn hesitated for a moment, seemingly torn between shooting at the wolves and retreating. He must have decided discretion was the better part of valor because he lowered his weapon and dragged her toward the dilapidated structure.

When they reached the vine-covered porch, Lee was trying to yank off the boards covering the door.

“Kick in the door,” Lee ordered Quinn, grabbing Triana, keeping her in front of him like a shield as he shoved his gun to her head. “You can’t kill me now that I’m one of you!” he shouted into the night. “If you try to come in here, I’ll execute her right in front of you. Her death will be on you, not me.”

There was a loud crack behind them as Quinn ripped off the boards and tossed them aside. Lee shoved her at his enforcer, who immediately caught her and dragged her into the house. Lee hesitated in the doorway, looking out at the dark street.

The asshole never saw the wolf come at him from the side. One moment Lee was standing there, and the next he was flying off the porch.

Quinn shoved Triana outside, scrambling around as he looked for his boss, but there was no sign of Lee.

Somewhere in the yard, Remy and the other wolf howled. Muttering under his breath, Quinn quickly dragged Triana into the house again. In the glow from the car’s headlights, she could see that they were in someone’s old living room. It smelled like mold, mildew, and rot.

Triana struggled against Quinn, but it was worse than useless. He was simply too strong for her. He didn’t stop pulling her across the room until he had his back up against the far wall.

“Come in here and I’ll shoot her!” Quinn yelled, his voice laced with fear. “And after I kill her, I’ll do the two of you next. I know how to kill monsters.”

There was a low growl at the door as a pair of glowing yellow eyes appeared. There was enough light from the car to see the wolf clearly now. He was even bigger than she realized, lithe, muscular, and graceful. His fur was mostly gray with shades of brown and what could almost be called blond mixed in. Even if his eyes didn’t give him away, Triana still would have known it was Remy.

He was beautiful.

Before Triana realized what was happening, Quinn aimed his gun in Remy’s direction and fired. Triana screamed, but the sound died in her throat as she realized Remy was nowhere in sight. In the time it had taken Quinn to point the weapon and pull the trigger, Remy had darted off. A moment later, he was back in the doorway, teeth bared in a fierce snarl.

“Stay back!” Quinn warned, pointing the weapon at her now. “I’ll do it. I’ll pop her right in the head!”

Triana heard the growl behind the partially intact wall in back of them before Quinn did. Realizing the second wolf was there, he turned his pistol in that direction.

As Quinn moved, his hold on Triana slipped. Remy’s words from the other day echoed in her head. If you only have one chance to hit a person—and it’s life or death—aim for the throat and punch as hard as you can.

Balling her hand into a fist, she spun around and aimed for Quinn’s throat, punching him hard enough for her to feel it all the way through her wrist and up into her arm.

Quinn staggered back with a weird gurgling sound.

Sensing more than seeing Remy move, Triana jumped out of the way. She hit the floor at the same time Remy smashed into Quinn, knocking him though the wall. There was a gunshot, then lots of snarling and growling mixed in with a few cries of pain.

Triana was glad it was too dark to see anything in the other room, but she knew what was happening. After the part Quinn had played in her father’s death, she couldn’t find it in herself to feel sorry for him.

It couldn’t have been any more than thirty seconds later before Remy bounded out of the hole he and Quinn had made in the wall. He stopped when he saw her standing there, his whole body displaying how hesitant he was to approach her.

Smiling, Triana stood and moved to meet him halfway. Then she dropped to her knees and held out her arms. He was there immediately, his head towering over hers, his huge muzzle sniffing softly around the scalp wound that she’d gotten when Quinn had slammed her head into the wall of the van earlier. She’d almost forgotten about it.

“I’m fine,” she said, almost laughing as he chuffed and continued to sniff at her head. “Are you okay?” She ran her hands along the thick fur of his withers and sides. “You didn’t get shot, did you?”

He chuffed again in answer. Triana sighed. This part was going to be tough. She was obviously going to need to brush up on her wolf sounds.

Not having any other way to know for sure, she ran her hands all over Remy’s body. He was huge, so it took a little while, not that he seemed to mind the attention.

When she was satisfied he hadn’t been wounded, she sat back on her heels and looked up at him. “I didn’t know you could do this.”

He sat down and chuffed again.

She laughed. “You’re absolutely beautiful like this, but do you think you could turn back, so I can actually talk to you?”

An expression that looked like concern crossed Remy’s furry face, but then the second wolf padded out of the other room to stand beside him. Remy visibly relaxed as the second wolf—he was the same size but with darker brown fur mixed with gray—lay down on the floor and closed his eyes. Remy did the same.

Triana watched, fascinated, as the muscles under their fur began to twitch and spasm. Then it got a little weird as their fur started to disappear. Okay…a lot weird. But as a curious science nerd, she couldn’t look away, even when the bones under all those muscles started to change shape. Besides, this was Remy, the man she loved. There was no way she was going to look away.

Until they were done shifting back into their human form and she realized they were both naked as the day they were born. She certainly had no problem looking at Remy like that, but seeing some guy she’d never met before was…strange.

As she stood up and turned her back to give the man some privacy, she had to admit her mother had been right—alpha werewolves were certainly hunky.

Triana felt Remy’s presence behind her even before he turned her around and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tightly as she kissed him back. Then she pulled away a little to take a closer look at the two bullet wounds on his chest. She could still see them, but they were completely closed over. She hugged him again, never wanting to let him go. But after a while, she heard the other man clear his throat.

Remy chuckled. “Triana, this is Cooper. He’s one of the werewolves in my pack.”

Triana went through the most unusual handshake ritual of her life with a naked guy who’d moments before been a wolf. She suddenly knew how guys felt when they met a woman. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Cooper said with a quirky grin that suggested he knew exactly what she was thinking. “I hate to interrupt the reunion, but we need to get out of here. The gunshots and that wrecked Caddy are going to attract attention sooner or later, and we don’t want to be here when the police show up because that”—he gestured at the other room—“is going to be damn hard to explain.”

Crap. Triana hadn’t thought of that. She grabbed Remy’s hand and started for the door. They obviously weren’t leaving in Lee’s car, so that meant walking. Then the problem with that idea hit her.

She stopped and turned to look at them. “You guys didn’t bring clothes with you, did you?”

They both shook their heads.

Of course not. “Then we might be in trouble because I don’t have my purse or cell phone, and you can’t go out there naked.”

Remy and Cooper exchanged looks.

“This is New Orleans, darlin’.” Remy’s mouth twitched. “I doubt anyone will even notice. Besides, it’s dark out.”

Triana felt her jaw drop as Remy gave her hand a tug and started for the door, Cooper in tow. Crap. They weren’t really doing this, were they?

Well, this was probably going to be interesting. Then again, something told her everything in her life would be more interesting now that Remy was in it.