The Patient Is a Shark [Shape-Shifter Clinic 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Cara Adams Page B

didn’t.
    But he hadn’t convinced himself. Suddenly he was working hard to decide how he could protect his people if trouble happened. Quinn checked the traffic website then called up the map on his cell phone. It didn’t make much sense to leave the highway. For a start, he didn’t know this area at all, and besides, the Interstate was a much better road and he was much more likely to be safe on it. Riding around the back roads they might end up in gang territory or on a dead-end route or any one of a dozen other problems. Hell, even a flat tire could be bad news for them. Nope, much better to stay on the Interstate.
    Wynter woke up as they stopped the car at the gas station. Rainer helped her out as usual and walked with her to the ladies room. She didn’t complain. Perhaps she was still not really wide awake.
    Quinn turned sideways to the car as he filled the gas tank. In the windows of the service center he could see the other cars, and right at the farthest gas pump the dirty white pickup was also filling its tank. Wynter and Rainer weren’t back when he finished, so he washed the windshield and had just finished as he saw them walking back.
    As soon as they returned, he hurried over to the service center and paid for his gas, then stepped into the men’s room. If there was going to be trouble, he didn’t want to have to deal with a full bladder as well. He needed to concentrate on his driving. It was more than ten years since he’d done a defensive driving course, and he wasn’t at all sure he could remember any of the things they’d taught him, except always steer into a skid, never brake. Well, that bit of advice might come in useful.
    He hurried back to the car and noticed the pickup had moved over to the parking lot beside the service center. They’d have to drive right past it on their way out back to the Interstate.
    “Rainer, call the wolf pack now. Wynter, lie flat down on the backseat and cover your head with the pillow. Pull the bedding over yourself completely if you can.”
    “What?”
    “The white pickup may have been following us,” explained Rainer.
    Quinn was waiting to pull out. Another car was about to leave and he was hoping to use it as cover. This feels like a fucking movie, and likely it’s all my imagination.
    “I expect a full explanation later,” came a muffled voice from behind him.
    She was so good. She’d obeyed him even though she still was going to argue. He didn’t bother to look at her. He knew Rainer would help her if she needed any help. He was concentrating on the black car he wanted to hide beside.
    The exit road wasn’t really two lanes wide, but it was designed for big trucks, so there was enough space for him to tuck himself on the far side of the black car as they left the service center. As the access road narrowed and they approached the Interstate again, Quinn planted his foot hard on the accelerator and shot ahead of the black car, barreling his way onto the Interstate and into the fast lane, hoping the U-Haul trailer didn’t sway too much at this speed, immediately putting as many cars as he could between him and the black car and the pickup, which he’d seen pull out behind them.
    Beside him he could hear Rainer speaking into his cell phone. “We’re being followed by a white pickup truck. A 2009 Chevy. License plate…Yes…Uh-huh…Actually, we’re moving pretty fast right now, trying to lose him…Uh-huh…Yes…Yes, sir.”
    “What did they say?” asked Quinn.
    “Stay on the Interstate. Drive as fast as you like. Someone will be with us in about thirty minutes. If the police pull you over don’t get out of the car until you’re absolutely certain they’re genuine then give them this phone number.”
    “Rainer got a picture of the truck, but it’s likely rather blurry,” added Wynter, still sounding very muffled. That was good. It meant she was still protected by the bedding.
    “It’s likely nothing, just my imagination—”
    “No,