Bianca had been waiting for him in Albuquerque, exactly as he’d ordered. Of course, the healer, unlike the other wolves, didn’t seem as keen to rebel about his orders. Hands on his hips, she rode the bitch seat as though she’d been born to it. Tingles radiated over his skin from the contact, her power easing bone bruises and aches from a night of fighting. The scabs on his knuckles vanished. If he hadn’t been on the bike, he’d have snarled at her for presuming. Then again, the ride shouldn’t have taken him more than five hours, but the accrued stops cost him time. In Santa Rosa, four wolves awaited him—representatives of the four most powerful families in Sutter Butte. Bianca slid off the seat behind him after he parked the bike in front of the Johnson family diner. His guest would reach the town of Tucumcari within two hours. He had no time for another sortie, but if the bastards wanted a fight, he would send the families their heads in response. Removing her helmet, Bianca didn’t even look at their visitors.
