  Celena&#39;s Perspective
  In the rearview mirror, the flashing police lights clung to us like a swarm of infuriating fireflies. Ha! Think you can catch me? Dream on! I jerked the steering wheel, the stolen police car roaring in protest as I slammed the accelerator. The vehicle, a furious beast of metal, wove and darted through traffic with reckless abandon. Tires screeched against the asphalt as we left one sluggish family car after another in our dust.
  Wind whipped through the shattered windows, tangling my hair, but it set my blood on fire. This feeling… was so damn good! The fear was gone, replaced by a pure, intoxicating thrill. Controlling this speed and power, toying with our pursuers, made every cell in my body sing.
  Beside me, Jacob was grimacing as he picked shards of glass from his arms and shoulders. &quot;Hiss… damn it…&quot; he muttered, flicking a bloody piece out th

  Jacob&#39;s Perspective
  The red Mustang was a sweet ride, but it was a beacon. We got off the main highway as fast as possible, twisting and turning into the grimy streets of a neighborhood that practically screamed &quot;unfriendly.&quot; Graffiti, a broken basketball hoop, and a few kids in baggy clothes leaning against walls, their eyes tracking us with wary suspicion. Classic local gang turf.
  &quot;Wait here,&quot; I told Celena, pushing the car door open. For situations like this, a werewolf&#39;s direct approach worked better than anything. I didn&#39;t waste time. I walked straight up to the one who looked like the leader. A combination of cash and some &quot;gentle&quot; physical persuasion—like casually bending a discarded fire hydrant out of shape—quickly secured us an older, unremarkable-looking Chevy sedan. Its engine sounded solid. Gray, utterly forgettable. Perfect.
 

  Celena&#39;s Perspective
  The light was too bright, a harsh, sterile white that stabbed at my eyes. The air reeked of antiseptic and stale coffee. The two uniformed men across from me had faces carved from stone, expressionless, their gazes cold and dissecting, scraping over my skin like scalpels.
  &quot;Celena. Moonlight Pack.&quot; I kept my voice as level as possible, giving my name and affiliation. By the rules, the Moonlight Pack was a registered, &quot;compliant&quot; werewolf community with the human authorities. This shouldn&#39;t be causing such a severe reaction.
  But not a single ripple of acknowledgment crossed their faces. The one on the left tapped his knuckles rhythmically against the table. Tap. Tap. Tap. Like a death knell. &quot;Yesterday afternoon, you were involved in an altercation with two police officers near the &#39;Quick-Stop Gas&#39; off Highway 76. The of

Celena&#39;s Perspective
  In the rearview mirror, the flashing police lights clung to us like a swarm of infuriating fireflies. Ha! Think you can catch me? Dream on! I jerked the steering wheel, the stolen police car roaring in protest as I slammed the accelerator. The vehicle, a furious beast of metal, wove and darted through traffic with reckless abandon. Tires screeched against the asphalt as we left one sluggish family car after another in our dust.
  Wind whipped through the shattered windows, tangling my hair, but it set my blood on fire. This feeling… was so damn good! The fear was gone, replaced by a pure, intoxicating thrill. Controlling this speed and power, toying with our pursuers, made every cell in my body sing.
  Beside me, Jacob was grimacing as he picked shards of glass from his arms and shoulders. &quot;Hiss… damn it…&quot; he muttered, flicking a bloody piece out the window.
  It looked painful, but who cared? Our freakish werewolf healing would take care of it 

Chapter 224