Demon's Journey

~ ZEV ~

He'd gotten dressed and they were back in the car, rolling and rocking their way through the sanctuary. 

Sasha had been silent ever since he'd started the engine again, but she kept staring at him, then turning away when he tried to catch her eye. His tension rose a stair-step every time it happened because he was convinced his nightmares were coming true. She was going to run from him and then what would he do? He needed to protect her. But he'd always sworn he'd never force her. 

Then they took a turn in the road around a massive tree and on its other side the forest opened, the trees becoming fewer and further between. More grass, wider sky… and in the distance, the line of lights and rumbling that was the highway. 

They'd be there in twenty minutes and she still hadn't spoken. 

Then she shook her head and dropped her chin with a little laugh.

"What is it?" he asked quietly.

"You're a werewolf," she said, her voice tight with disbelief. "You just… you're telling me you're a fucking werewolf?" She turned to stare at him frankly then, her beautiful eyes wide and pleading—and angry. 

She was angry that he was a wolf?

Zev held her gaze for several seconds, then turned back to the road. "Not that it matters, but… no. If you're going to throw me into a mythical category, it would be a Lycan. I can shift whenever I want, and the moon has no effect on me. But even that's not right. I'm Chimera, Sasha. Half human. Half wolf. And…"

"And what?" she snapped. 

"Why are you angry?" he asked, his voice deep and firmer than it should have been. 

"Because… because I've been pining after you for five years, Zev. And I didn't even know you."

"Yes, you did," he snarled.

"No, Zev. I didn't. Unless this wolf thing is new, I didn't know you at all."

"You know me, Sasha," he said, surprised by how hot his anger flared. "You know my heart. Who I am. That hasn't changed."

"Are you kidding me right now?" Her voice got high and frantic. "You've been following me around, stalking me, shapeshifting? I'm still half-certain this is a dream and I'm going to wake up and laugh at how pathetic I am for conjuring this ridiculous story to give you an excuse for disappearing."

"I didn't disappear. I just… I couldn't have contact with you."

"And that's another thing," she said, turning in her seat, her eyes flashing. "Why did you wait two years to tell me you weren't dead? I grieved you, Zev! I thought you'd been hurt. I was so certain there was nothing that would have taken you away from me by choice that you must be dead!" 

He watched the grief and fear of the past cloud her gaze. Her lips tightened and she snapped her head away from him to hide the tears springing into her eyes. 

"There wasn't anything that would have taken me by choice, Sasha," he said quietly. "That's the thing. There was no choice."

She scoffed. "I don't see a leash on your neck."

"You might not see it," he growled, "but trust me, it's there."

They were both quiet for another minute, then Sasha shook her head again. "I just don't know what to think."

"You should think that I never would have left unless I was certain that staying was going to hurt you more than me leaving," he said, his voice low and dark. "You should know that everything that happened between us was real. And you should be certain that you're in danger right now, but I'm going to get you out of it. I'm taking you somewhere they can't get to you. And once you're safe… we can figure the rest out later."

"If they can bug my apartment and follow us, what's going to stop them coming to your hometown, Zev?" She turned when she spoke, then froze and her jaw went tight. "Unless that whole story was a lie, too? Where are you taking me?" 

"I wasn't lying about where I grew up or what it was like," he said. "I just… didn't ever tell you where it was."

She folded her arms and her jaw muscles flexed. "So?"

"So, what?"

"So, where is it?"

"I can't tell you. You haven't been there before. I have to show you."

Her face went flat and she shook her head. "I'm not buying this, Zev, or whatever your name is. Stop the car."

"What? No!"

"Stop the car, I'm getting out. You can go run to your place that I can't know about. You can go flee your strange men in suits with guns. I'm done."

"Sasha, please—"

"STOP THE FUCKING CAR!"

Zev hit the brakes hard again, and the Jeep rocked back and forth. Sasha had grabbed the dashboard and the center console to keep herself upright, but when the car had stopped rolling and bobbing, she hurriedly unclipped her seatbelt and threw the door open.

"Sasha, please," Zev said wearily. 

She didn't even respond, just shoved herself out of the car and hit the ground outside running.

"Fuck," he muttered to himself and started taking off his clothes again. "Fuck!"

He couldn't let her run loose out here. Even if he'd dodged the crew for now, they were definitely going to find them eventually and then she'd face men who wouldn't look at her, didn't care how she felt. Their only interest would be in getting information from her—by whatever means necessary.

Growling his frustration, he pushed out of the driver's side and shoved off his jeans for the second time that night—at least he didn't have underwear to ruin this time—and then he shifted and darted around the car after her.