Shapes of Autumn (Boxed set, books 1 - 5)

by Veronica Blade

  “I thought I was driving.”

  I let out the breath I hadn’t realized was frozen in my lungs, then crawled over to the passenger side and he got behind the wheel.

  “We’ve got more than four hours to go, according to the map.” He glanced at me, eyeing my veggie burger as I adjusted its wrapper. “You look exhausted and it’s not even five yet. We might be better off finding a hotel as soon as we arrive and getting a good night’s sleep. We can get an early start tomorrow and still accomplish just as much but we won’t be tired.”

  I was tired. “That seems sensible.” I set my own food aside, unwrapped part of his burger and handed it to him.

  He snatched it from my outstretched hand. “You made a hotel reservation, right?”

  “No. Wasn’t even sure you were coming or what I’d be doing.” I bit into my veggie burger.

  Zack concentrated on his food, lifting it to his mouth and steering with his thighs. He looked like he’d had lots of practice eating and driving. When he’d finished, he handed me his wrapper and started on his fries.

  I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a big rig slowly disappearing behind us. No sign of any other cars for miles. The awkward silence was weighing on me. “You think Charles is really dead?”

  “I don’t know.” He stared ahead, a tic working in his jaw.

  His brain was probably already considering all possibilities. When Daniel had become a clear threat, Zack had prepared for every scenario. He planned our next step in detail, always coaching me on what to do and what not to do.

  “You must have a theory or two.”

  “Two,” Zack said, waving his burger at me, the aroma of the meat wafting up my nose. Natural instinct told me to snatch it from his fingers, but good sense won over. I didn’t want to take the time to stop for a replacement burger. “One theory is that Charles is dead. The other is that he’s alive and healing somewhere.”

  I had hoped for something a little less obvious. Some insight that came from something I didn’t know. “You read all of the books your dad left for you, right? Did you find anything that explained how to kill a werewolf?”

  “No.”

  “For all we know, it could require a silver bullet,” I said.

  “Maybe.”

  Zack drove me batty. Was he keeping information to himself? Not that I could complain if he was, since I hadn’t yet told him everything about Renzo.

  I turned my attention to the scenery as we passed countless windmills, dry patches of desert with lonely far off buildings that looked like sheds, and the occasional clump of wooded areas filled with giant pine trees. But the scenery wasn’t interesting enough to prevent my brain from racing from one obsession to the next.

  If I couldn’t prove my innocence to Mr. Collins, my parents would get called back to town. And then there was the stress over whether or not Charles could be waiting for us when we returned. I shuddered to think about him being alive and the revenge he’d want on me after I’d torn him apart.

  I needed something to keep myself too occupied to dwell on any of that. “Do you mind if I read a book?”

  “Not at all.”

  He acted a little too relieved for my taste. I wondered why he bothered coming along if hanging out with me was such a chore, especially when he could be making out with Gina. I tried not to growl as I dug my e-reader out of my purse.

  After reading the same line over and over, I finally gave up actual reading. I couldn’t concentrate on anything with Zack next to me and he wasn’t exactly a chatterbox. So I pretended to be engrossed in the book while images of him and Gina played in my head over and over.

  “Autumn?”

  My heart leapt. Did he want to apologize? Beg my forgiveness? Promise to tell Gina off in front of the entire school? “Yes?”

  He cast me a quick glance. “That dark sports car has been behind us since we stopped for food — always keeping the same distance.”

  My heart rate sped. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  “I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily unless I was sure.”

  The dark car stayed far enough behind and almost blended with the asphalt. I couldn’t tell the make or model. Possibly blue, but definitely sporty.

  “You think it’s Renzo?” I asked.

  “With him or Alura, we’d probably be fine. If they catch us, we could say we got back together and decided to celebrate by being tourists. At this point, I think they’re only dangerous if they find out you’re a shape-shifter or that we killed Charles.”

  Too late for the former. “What if Charles isn’t dead and that’s him following us?”

  “Home or Yosemite, it wouldn’t matter. Wherever he found us, we’d be in for the fight of our lives.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  “Could you make me any more nervous and paranoid?” I glanced back at the car again. Yep, still there. Zack was right — whichever city Charles attacked us in shouldn’t matter to me. But it did. The idea of being ambushed seemed much scarier away from home where everything was unfamiliar.

  “Sorry.” Zack’s eyes left the road long enough to give me an apologetic look. “But I just want to be honest and not keep things from you.”

  Like the way I was keeping things from him. Maybe it would be better if Zack and I didn’t talk after all. I squinted at the screen, trying to make out the words, but I still couldn’t get past the first paragraph. Whatever. Staring at words that I couldn’t focus on sure beat trying to make conversation with Zack.

  Now and then, I checked the car behind us. Zack kept his eye on it, too. The hours stretched on and I spent most of the drive looking out my side of the window.

  Just after the sun set, the blue car veered into the right lane. Instead of taking the exit, it sped up and closed in. Just when I thought it might just ram right into the back of my Mustang, it switched lanes and roared ahead of us.

  As the car passed, it was too dark to tell the color, but by the shape, I’d guess it was Renzo. “Looks like they’re not following us.”

  “Or that’s just what he wants us to think. If he pulls over and turns off his lights, we’ll easily miss him as we pass and he can get behind us again.”

  Lovely. I slumped in my seat, not bothering to comment. All week I’d looked forward to our weekend getaway. But our break-up drama had followed us and, apparently, so had Renzo.

  “We’re almost there. Okay if we stop for food before we find a hotel and check in?”

  “Yeah.”

  He stopped at the first drive-thru we came to, then hit the road again. As I ate, I checked the info I’d gathered the night before on the hotels.

  The sign over the freeway rang a bell somewhere in my subconscious. “This is our exit. It’s hard to tell by the pictures, but the rooms look pretty nice.”

  “That’s the beauty of not making a reservation.” Zack signaled, then swerved into the right lane. “If it ends up being a dump, we’ll move on to the next one.”

  My boyfriend had been irritating, distant, angry — any number of things — the entire trip, but I loved the way he acted so calm when my nerves were on edge. Otherwise the trip would be miserable. I hated knowing that no matter what I might learn about my parents, I’d still be mad at them. If I failed and didn’t learn anything at all, I’d likely be even more pissed. Having Zack with me made either scenario a little less awful.

  Up the narrow road, the trees gave way to a towering building, which reminded me of a French chateau, out of place in America and far from home. Lit windows glowed from the rooms, some of them partially hidden by trees. The tops of the windows arched, flanked by shutters and the stone exterior reached high up to a sharply pitched roof.

  I wondered if the inside would be as charming as the outside.

  We weren’t officially in Yosemite, but the area still boasted plenty of vegetation. I opened the door the moment the car stopped moving. “It smells absolutely divine around here.”

  He closed his eyes, in
haling deeply. “I could get used to this.”

  I shot him a hopeful smile. “We could stay another day regardless what we find out tomorrow.”

  “It’s probably not a good idea to stay any longer than we need to.” He climbed out of the car and headed toward the hotel entrance.

  I followed, not wanting to ask why we shouldn’t stay. Knowing the reason wouldn’t make him any less of an ass.

  “I hope it’s not too expensive,” I muttered, although I wasn’t sure why I was worried. My mom’s credit card sang to me from a little compartment in my purse. It’s not like my parents were strapped for cash. Still, I’d had too many years of living frugal to be too extravagant.

  Zack continued, passing through the front door and stopping at the front desk, which was more like a long counter. Brochures sat at the end of the glossy, dark surface and framed certificates of excellence hung on the wall nearby.

  A small woman looked up from a computer monitor and smiled. “Good evening.”

  I lowered my voice, hoping to seem more mature. “We’d like a room please.”

  “Do you have a reservation?”

  “No,” I replied.

  “That’s all right. One bed or two?” she asked, clicking a button on the keyboard.

  “Two,” I said, my eyes darting at Zack for his reaction.

  His face remained blank.

  The woman tapped keys again. “I’m sorry, we only have kings left. Will that be a problem?”

  “It’s fine,” he said.

  A tingle raced through my body, all the way to my toes. Okay, a king was huge. He could have his side and I’d have mine.

  “I’ll need to see your ID.”

  I fished in my purse and handed it over, my palms sweating. I’d never rented a room before.

  Relax. It’ll be fine, Zack said. We’re legal and we can pay. That’s all they really care about.

  He was right. A few minutes later, we were all checked in. We returned to the car, grabbed our bags and found our way to the room. Our very expensive room. I cringed to think how my parents would react when they saw the bill. No matter their reaction, it would be worth it.

  The suite had ample space for a bedroom with a king sized bed and a sitting room with a chaise lounge. Both spaces had a giant flat screen TV. The bathroom was the size of my bedroom at home, marble everywhere. I eyed the jet tub, noting the little bottle of bubble bath waiting for me on the edge.

  By the time I’d finished poking around, Zack was already comfortable and watching sports. I flicked a thumb to the glorious place of refuge I’d just left. “I’m going to take a bath.”

  “While you’re doing that, I’ll go for a quick run. I wouldn’t leave you alone, but—”

  “I know you have to morph, Zack.” I paused, wondering if an invitation to join him would be coming.

  “I’ll be quick. If I’m back and asleep before you get out of the bath, you take the bedroom. We don’t want it to go to waste.” His eyes left me and got stuck to the television screen.

  Not only did I not get invited to go with him, but he’d dismissed me for sports. Jerk. Why keep me as his girlfriend if he’s going to be a douche bag?

  I snatched up my pajamas and toothbrush, then stomped to the bathroom and slammed the door. Forty-five minutes later, I came out and found Zack on the couch. His eyes were closed, shadows and lights from the television alternating over his face. Dejected, I made my way to the room, crawled into bed and settled near the edge. I turned to lie on my side toward the nightstand and reached for my e-reader.

  Seeing Zack in the doorway, I flinched. “Did I wake you?”

  “I wasn’t asleep.” He ran his fingers through his already tousled hair. “The scent of the… whatever you’re using. It called to me. Smells nice.”

  “Bubble bath,” I said.

  “Yeah.” He tapped the inside of the doorway with the palm of his hand.

  Was he going to just stand there and watch me or was he finally ready to talk about it? “Did you change your mind?”

  “About what?” he asked.

  If he didn’t spit out whatever was on his mind and do it soon, I wouldn’t need Charles or Renzo to kill me. Zack was going to drive me to do it myself. “About sleeping out there.”

  He looked up at the ceiling.

  I tucked the covers up to my chest. “Sleep here if you want, but stay on your side.”

  He strode to the other side of the room out of my line of vision. I returned my attention to the e-reader screen, trying very hard not to be aware of his every move. As I struggled to focus on the words calling to me, I tried not to hear the rustle of fabric that told me he was undressing.

  Before I could stop myself, I glanced over my shoulder to see him clad only in boxers. I looked away, making my motions fluid, so I didn’t look jumpy.

  The mattress dipped as it took his weight. “I’m sorry for being rude,” he said quietly, dangerously close to my ear. “It’s just that I’m still worked up over that whole thing.”

  “Yeah, but you won’t talk about it.”

  “I can’t just yet.” His hand found my hip and warmth spread over my skin.

  Making a conscious effort not to melt into him, I covered his hand with mine for a moment before releasing it and returning my attention to my book. As if taking the hand squeeze as encouragement, he scooted closer, burying his face in the back of my neck. No way would I allow it to go any further, considering what he’d done.

  But I couldn’t make myself push him away either. “Zack?”

  “Yeah?” His breath tickled the back of my neck.

  “Thanks for coming with me.”

  His arms tightened around me. “You’re welcome.”

  “Good night,” I whispered.

  His hand moved a fraction of an inch and every nerve in my body stood at attention. Knowing he was awake only increased the tension in my limbs. I prayed he would hold very still and fall asleep soon. If not, it was going to be a very long night.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  When I opened my eyes the next morning, the first thing I saw was Zack’s chin. Slowly, I pinpointed each of our body parts. We faced each other on our sides, almost hip to hip. The palm of my hand was flattened against his chest and my knee was wedged between his legs. His arm was carelessly draped over my waist.

  So far, not too bad.

  Then I realized my other hand was cupping his face. It seemed like such an intimate gesture — practically equivalent to saying I love you. Not something I wanted him to know just yet, especially now that we were barely speaking.

  I held my breath, fervently hoping I could detach myself without waking him. My heart beat wildly at the thought of Zack waking up and catching us this way. In this vulnerable position, I wouldn’t be able to resist if he made a move.

  With almost imperceptible motions, I slowly separated my hand from his cheek and tucked it close to myself. I breathed a sigh of relief, then removed my other hand from his chest. Now it was a matter of freeing my knee.

  I slipped my hand into the small space near my knee and his legs, then lifted. Holding up his leg so his knees wouldn’t slap together, I gingerly reclaimed my own. Free at last, I rolled over and slowly got off the bed.

  Creeping into the other room, I turned on the television and listened to the news while I dressed, then darted into the bathroom to wash up.

  I loved healing quickly. I never woke in the morning looking scary — no blood shot eyes from lack of sleep and no bags under my eyes. I didn’t even want to imagine if I were human and what I could’ve looked like on the three hours sleep I’d gotten.

  “Hey.”

  I jumped, turning from my reflection in the mirror and nearly jabbing my eye with the mascara brush. From the look of Zack, he didn’t suffer from the myriad of human ailments either. He looked scrumptious, his hair disheveled, his boxers sitting a little too low on his hips.

  “Good morning,” I squeaked.

  “It’s early. May
be we should get breakfast downstairs and if it’s still too soon to knock on doors, we can go to the hospital.”

  “That sounds like a plan.” He looked so yummy, I wanted to touch that cute little curve of muscle just above his waist, and run my thumbs over his six-pack. And if I could do all that with my mouth, even better.

  I blinked, attempting to eject that image from my head. Not going to happen. I dragged my eyes from all that bare skin and resumed fixing my face.

  Since he hadn’t moved, I wrapped it up and scurried past him with my head down. “Bathroom’s all yours,” I mumbled.

  When he emerged a few minutes later, he smelled fantastic, the bare skin of his chest glistening with tiny beads of moisture and his wet hair exploding in every direction from towel drying. Since I couldn’t bear the temptation of watching him get dressed — and, really, why did he have to do it right in front of me? — I distracted myself by organizing my suitcase.

  When Zack was ready, we took the elevator down to the hotel restaurant. The hostess seated us at a booth and I played with my fork while we waited for our server. After a couple minutes, I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Zack, I know you don’t want to talk about it but… well, you know we can’t go on like this indefinitely.”

  “I realize that, Autumn. But I just can’t yet.” He squeezed the butter knife, his knuckles turning white. “I can’t.”

  “Whatever,” I muttered, wondering what his problem was. Kissing Cameron had been an accident. He’d mauled Gina on purpose. The end.

  Still, I loved him and if I could save our relationship, I wanted to try — preferably while we were still out of town, so we could make the most of this trip. If I got the information I needed soon, Zack and I might even be able to see some of Yosemite without worrying about Renzo. If he was following us, he already knew we were together. If he planned on acting on it, wouldn’t he have already done so? I mean, if seeing us get a hotel room together last night didn’t make him take action, then I could assume we were safe for now.