Tarun Campbell squinted into the distance, forcing her fingers to unclench from the steering wheel as she relaxed into her seat. Tears pressed against her eyes again, but she forced them back. The time for tears was over—and had been since she left Durga Valley yesterday.
Still, as frustrated as she was over her lack of control, she also thought it was understandable. Durga and the War Cats tribe were all she knew. Had been, for the whole of her twenty-six years. In fact, she’d never even been beyond the gates until she left yesterday.
But the mission she was on was far too important. The thought of leaving her beloved village was terrifying, but she had to do this. She didn’t know what her future held, but hopefully, one day soon, she’d return to Durga. Until then, she needed to push all thoughts of her home away. They were too distracting, and she needed to concentrate.
Her phone rang again, and she sighed as she risked a glance down at it. Jameson. She hadn’t told her brother about her plans to leave—just left a note on the kitchen table as she walked out of the door. She should probably answer, though. If anything, to keep him from mounting a search party of War Cat warriors to find her and take her back home.
Glancing in her review mirror, she saw that the road was as empty as it had been for the last hour. Pulling over on the side of the road, she put the car in park, took a bracing breath, and willed her hands not to tremble as she answered the phone.
“Tarun! What the hell? Where are you? Get your ass back here, now.”
Her brother’s voice was insistent and hard, but she could hear the panic buried beneath the surface. Guilt slammed into her and she squeezed her eyes shut. She shouldn’t have left like she did, but she knew if she told him in person, he wouldn’t let her go where she needed to go.
“I told you in the note, Jamie. I need to do this in person. It’s not something that can be done with a phone call.”
“And that’s another thing. You leave the village completely, when you’ve never left before, without even a hint you were leaving, and you told me in a note? The only reason I haven’t torn apart the country looking for you is because Cady’s been talking me down.”
Thank you, Cady, she thought. Her brother’s mate was a godsend.
“I had to do it like that, Jamie. I know you. You never would have let me leave if I told you about it. I’m sorry I told you in a note, but it was the only way.”
A sigh sounded over the phone, and when he spoke again, his voice was marginally calmer. “You’re damn right, I wouldn’t have let you leave. Tarun, if there’s danger, if you’re sensing a threat, you tell me. I’ll take care of it. You don’t run off. You have a big heart, I know, but that doesn’t excuse putting yourself in danger for people you barely know.”
Raising her eyes up to the roof of her car, Tarun shook her head, rolling it slowly against the headrest. “This isn’t something a phone call would have taken care of. And you can’t take care of it, either. It has to be me. I don’t know why, but it does.”
“Your gift has never required your presence. Ever. I don’t know why it would change now, after so long.”
We need to leave. Now. We’re wasting time and we’re needed, her tiger chuffed impatiently.
The urgency her animal felt transferred itself to Tarun quickly, and she straightened in her seat, gripping the phone tightly.
“I can’t explain it, Jameson. I just know I have to be there. I have to go now. I need to get there quickly. Try not to worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
Quickly ending the call, she dropped the phone back into the cup holder and put the car in drive, checking for traffic before pulling back onto the two-lane highway. Her phone rang again almost immediately, but she ignored it.
She hadn’t fibbed. There was this instinct inside her that was telling her whatever the threat was, it would end in disaster for the people she’d become fond of if she wasn’t there. That, and her animal constantly urging her to go, were what gave her the push to leave Durga. She couldn’t not go. She’d been feeling that need ever since she sensed the threat.
Every shifter had a gift, something mostly unique and special to them. It could be mental or physical, and hers was mental. She was able to sense threats, although the gift wasn’t without its drawbacks. She didn’t always know who the threat was targeted at. Sometimes, she just had a general idea of a group of people. And a lot of times, she had no idea what the threat was or where it was coming from.
And she’d never, in all her years, felt like she had to be present for the threat to be resolved. Yet, there she was, away from her village for the first time, on her way to a rough and tumble place she wasn’t sure she was equipped to deal with.
After driving another hour and a half, she spot
ted it. The Blood and Bone Enforcers MC clubhouse, disguising itself to humans and unknowing shifters as B&B Bar and Grill. Nerves fluttered in her stomach as she turned into the dusty gravel parking lot, spotting far more motorcycles than cars.
She was so out of her element.
Sitting for a moment, she stared into space, working on calming herself. Finally exhaling a breath she’d held far too long, she grabbed her purse, opened her door, and got out. She stared up at the brightly lit neon sign before trailing her eyes down the large, two story wooden structure.
It looked like something out of an old Western movie, except for the neon and the sheer, massive size. Planked wood, light in color, made up the walls, with a few windows breaking up the unending brown color, and there was a large porch, bare of decorations, running the length of the structure. What looked like handmade rails separated it from the gravel, and that was it.
It desperately needed color. The whole state did, really. Nevada was stark, the terrain unforgiving, with little in the way of color, and B&B Bar and Grill was no different. At least the gravel parking lot was gray and not brown, but it all still lacked curb appeal.