Howling Mad: A paranormal wolf shifter romance (Badlands Book 2) by Rebekah Blue Read Free Book Online Page A

corrected the spelling of their tattoos in her head as money changed hands.
    They were on the road as dawn broke, tearing up the asphalt as a chill early-morning wind whipped past and the sky faded through shades of dusky blue and salmon pink. Once the battered old engine was warmed up, it growled along happily, eating up the miles. The thrumming of the machine between her thighs and the smell of leather as she held tight to Byron’s waist punched through the early morning drowsiness, and adrenaline licked her senses.
    At first the roads were more or less deserted except for the occasional trucker hauling a load cross-country, but as the sun climbed, traffic picked up and they were joined by carpooling parents and yawning commuters with bleary pre-coffee eyes. As the peak of the rush-hour traffic hit, Byron pulled into the parking lot of a roadside diner. He leaned the bike on its kickstand in the dappled shade of a tree and they headed inside. Naomi’s stomach gave an undignified gurgle at the smells of fresh coffee, frying bacon and pancakes oozing with butter and syrup. The dawn ride had sharpened her appetite.
    They found seats towards the edge of the room, where they still had a clear view of the television set above the counter, and shovelled down scrambled eggs and sausage and drank cup after cup of scalding hot coffee. Byron nudged Naomi when the news channel showed the now-familiar mugshot of Byron follow by the unflattering candid of Naomi, and they turned their attention to the report. Fortunately, nobody else in the diner paid it much attention. Everyone was too intent on their breakfasts. A trucker-type was engrossed in the crossword page, chewing his pen in between bites of French toast. He had powdered sugar on his chin. The waitress, coffee pot in hand, was telling the fry cook about her new guy’s bitch sister’s smart remarks about her dye job.
    Naomi’s father appeared on the screen. He was wearing another of his expensively tailored suits – he had dozens, along with a rainbow of subtly patterned silk ties – and once again he was in the family room. Cassandra and Magnus were visible in the background playing a game of chess. That was a bold choice on Magnus’ part, since Cassandra could see the future. Or maybe it was staged – Cassie usually preferred dice games, because they had an element of chance. She said it got boring winning every single time.
    Dr Atkins was alone this time – Professor Stanhope was, presumably, overseeing some experiment or other. Naomi felt vaguely sick at the thought. Did he observe experiments on real people, people with unusual powers, with the same solemn objectivity she’d seen on his face as a child, when he’d showed her how to push copper and zinc rods into a lemon to make electricity?
    She tuned back in to the newscast.
    “…to appeal to all viewers to call Dynamic Earth’s security line if they have any information on the whereabouts of these two fugitives, who should be considered extremely dangerous.”
    Naomi looked at Byron, who was gnawing on his thumbnail and studying the screen intently. He didn’t look upset or alarmed – he looked shrewd and confident, and she felt a swelling of affection for him. He knew how to look after himself – and she realized he’d look after her as well. She could trust him to keep her safe.
    Her father made a show of accepting a piece of paper from someone standing just off-screen. She found it vaguely annoying, because her father would never appear on camera without knowing exactly what he was going to say. “Our surveillance experts inform me that the criminal known as Byron may also be travelling under the pseudonyms Doctor Dash, Chase Aston Junior, or Nicolo Garibaldi.”
    A chill crawled down Naomi’s spine, spider-like, and she gawped at Byron in horror as he slammed back from the table and stood, toppling his chair. He was looking at her as if she’d stabbed him through the heart. She knew exactly what he