Raven Moon
Quite British, indeed.” She shrugged. “Not an Aston Martin, but given the situation, I’m not too picky.” She settled onto the front seat.
    He chuckled as he belted her in. “How did you know?”
    “Know what?”
    “That I drove an Aston Martin in England?”
    “I didn’t. I’m just a fan of James Bond movies.”
    Maddox raised a brow and nodded. “I too enjoyed the action scenes.” He got in and floored it as if the zombies were Bond-chasing villains.
    Besides playing the piano, was he also a film aficionado? She scoffed. “I can’t imagine you sitting in the theatre having popcorn and a large sugary drink.”
    Maddox pulled the Range Rover onto a side service road. “Now why would I bloody watch a movie in a human movie theatre when I had my own flat screen mini-theatre and bar at home?”
    It was bad enough she’d had vivid dreams of him after seeing him last year at the Consortium meeting. Scenes of her and the enemy werewolf, naked while watching a chick flick in his man cave flashed in her mind. She focused on not swooning at such a bizarre fantasy. “Really? I thought you guys sat around praying and not having fun and especially not drinking.”
    Maddox slowly inhaled and smiled at her. “A fine brandy or red wine is not forbidden.”
    A new vision of her and the handsome werewolf at a fine restaurant enjoying a bottle of wine over a New York steak for him and a lobster for her warmed her, but not for long. Maddox was a werewolf, damn it. He could sense her love hormones. The Benandanti ass knew she was turned on.
    Reality check!
    Rave was his prisoner. Rather than enjoying a meal, she’d be chained and punished by the Holy Dogs of God before being burnt at the stake. She enjoyed bondage with hot werewolves but not the real inquisition variety that would make her current painful broken arm seem like a broken nail. She stared out the window. The fog lights blasted through the darkness, illuminating zombie shadows moving in their slow death dance. He drove off road to avoid the abandoned cars. She slowly exhaled. There was no safe heaven.
    Maddox must have mistaken her sigh for discomfort. “I doubt we’ll find a hospital that isn’t infested or been looted, but I’ll find a pharmacy and get you some pain meds.”
    “I took some aspirin.” He stared at her arm, but his glance roamed to her cleavage and her hard nipples. She should have zipped her coat to avoid the tight t-shirt look. Not to mention that her ‘I Heart Werewolves’ graphic in-between her breasts was a big invite for any horny werewolf, even the holier than thou variety.
    His gaze still lingered on her girls. “You need something stronger, pharmaceutical grade. Like morphine.”
    “Watch out!”
    The Range Rover slammed into two zombies. The sickening crunch of broken bones was followed by blood splatter. He swerved but straightened the truck, used the window spray and drove on. “Apologies.”
    “Keep your eyes on the road!”
    He snarled. “Stop distracting me.”
    Rave closed her coat, and snarked, “And how exactly am I distracting you?”
    Maddox released a low growl, then mumbled something in Latin, probably a Benandanti prayer to leash his wolf from temptation with a raven shifter.
    Rave snorted. “I took French. More popular than Latin.” She tapped her left finger over her lip. “Or do I mean French kissing is more popular?” She thought her dick teasing days were over but apparently not with the repressed hot werewolf. If she released his wolf, the wolf might release her. Maybe after hot werewolf sex.
    His clawed hands clenched the steering wheel and he stared ahead. “I’m not used to traveling with foul-mouthed females.”
    “No problem, Templar! I’m not used to traveling with holier than thou werewolves.” She was tempted to say horny but if she was not careful, he might muffle her.
    Maddox turned on the next street and drove toward an abandoned strip mall that included a pharmacy, the old-fashioned

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