by A. K. Morgen
“There are four matches,” Annette said, and then she frowned, “but these are all old.”
“How old?”
“The first was two years ago, and the last was in mid-December.”
“That can’t be right.” Ronan’s eyes narrowed.
“Yes, it is,” I said.
Ronan and Annette both turned to look at me.
“My mom died in December.” Those deliveries weren’t from Sköll or Hati. They were from my dad.
“Do you know Alexander T. Jacobs?” Annette asked, reading something on her screen.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “That’s my dad.”
“Damn,” Ronan said.
Annette looked between the two of us, waiting for further instruction.
“I never got the flowers at home,” I said, looking up at Ronan. “They were sent to the hospital in Jacksonville.”
He nodded. “Try deliveries to Jacksonville, Arkansas in the last three months.”
Annette typed in the new search parameters. “963 matches,” she said, still typing. “A little over 400 if you discount Valentine’s Day deliveries.”
“Can you cross-check those with deliveries to Smyrna?” Ronan asked, crossing his arms over his chest to wait.
Annette typed in the request.
Time seemed to drag.
“No matches,” she said.
No matches, which meant no answers. Our long shot was exactly that after all, a long shot. My head drooped forward, defeat coursing through me. We were never going to find Idun, or Sköll and Hati.
“Any other suggestions?” Annette asked, shooting me a sympathetic smile.
I shook my head.
“Ronan?”
He thought about it for a minute and then he shook his head too. “I’ve got nothing,” he admitted, looking at me. “It looks like we were both wrong.”
“Yeah,” I said. I wanted to cry. I’d been so certain we would find what we needed here, so sure this was our best shot at getting a step ahead of Sköll and Hati for once. Turns out, we were no closer now than we were weeks ago.
“Maybe not,” Annette said.
“Hmm?”
“The search parameters for this system are pretty narrow. If your guy used different credit cards to make the purchases and doesn’t have an account with us, the system wouldn’t find a match when cross-checking because the purchases wouldn’t be grouped together. They would be listed as individual purchases.”
“Okay… so how do we check that?” I asked.
“We pull up all orders from the two locations, and compare them to one another,” she said.
“Let’s do that then,” Ronan said.
“Even if we narrow our search to the last few months, we’re talking thousands of orders. This type of search will take time.”
“How much time?”
Annette thought about it for a moment. “Two or three days.”
Ronan whistled.
“I’m sorry,” she said, looking like she genuinely meant that. “That’s the best I can do without risking more than my job.”
“Thank you, Annette. Really.” I cleared my throat, climbing to my feet.
Annette grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and held it out toward me. “I’ll give you a call if anything turns up.”
I jotted my phone number for her, beyond grateful for her help. Even if it led nowhere, we owed her huge for taking this risk for us.
“Good luck,” she said as Ronan and I left her office, both of us quiet.
We trooped back down the maze of hallways and into the elevator. I tilted my head back against the wall and closed my eyes, weary.
“What now?” Ronan asked after we handed our badges back to Alice, the elderly receptionist, and headed to the Yukon.
“Now?” I shrugged, grasping the handle on the SUV to pull myself up. “Now we wait, I guess.” I paused halfway into my seat. “Ronan, I―”
“Leave it,” he said, his voice harsh. “You did what you had to do.”
“Yeah, I did.” Funny how that didn’t make me feel any less horrid for doing it though.
I dropped into my seat with a defeated sigh.
When we got back to the hotel, Ronan took Fuki out for a walk, and then went to his room. I think he wanted to avoid me. I didn’t really blame him. I curled up in my bed and turned the television on, staring blankly at the movie playing.
Fuki hopped up and stretched out across the end of the bed. Within moments, his soft snores punctuated the low drone of voices coming from the television. I zoned out, too mentally exhausted to think anymore.
At six, my phone rang, startling Fuki.
I grabbed for it, hoping it was Annette. Chelle’s name and number flashed on the screen, leaving me feeling let down and guilty at once. I wanted to talk to Chelle. But I wanted to hear good news from Annette even more.
“Ari?” Chelle said when I answered the call.
“Hey, Chelle.”
“Oh, thank god,” she said, sighing into the phone. Her tone instantly put me on alert.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, sitting upright.
Fuki’s ears perked up.
“Mandy took off,” she said. “I tried to call Ronan, but he didn’t answer.”
“She took off?”
“Yeah,” Chelle said, her voice strained. “She found out Jen was following her and confronted me about it yesterday. She said she wasn’t stupid and knew something was going on; that Dani’s death wasn’t an accident, and that Ronan kidnapped her for a reason. She demanded answers. I tried to calm her down, but she wouldn’t listen. She just kept saying she knew we were lying to her and Beth. And then she left.”
“Where’d she go?”
“I don’t know! No one knows.” Chelle’s voice broke. “I thought she needed time to calm down, but when I went to talk to her this afternoon, she wasn’t home. She hasn’t been home since yesterday, Ari. I can’t do this again. I can’t.”
“Chelle, calm down,” I said, my heart hurting for her when she sobbed in my ear. “Have you told Dace?”
“Yes. He and the wolves are looking for her, but I don’t know, Ari. She was mad. Really mad. What if she’s―what if…?” She couldn’t finish the question.
“Don’t go there, Chelle. Sköll and Hati don’t have any reason to hurt her,” I reminded her, sliding my shoes onto my feet. I grabbed my key card from the nightstand and slipped it into my pocket before hurrying out the door to Ronan’s room. Fuki followed on my heels, swinging his head from side to side as if looking for danger.
All of Ronan’s lights were off.
I didn’t hesitate before pounding on the door.
“I’m scared, Ari,” Chelle whispered, tears and guilt choking her. “I should have told her the truth.”
“This isn’t your fault. You were trying to protect her and Beth.” I felt awful for Chelle. She couldn’t have known Mandy would run off. No one expected that. I couldn’t help but share Chelle’s worry though. Even if Mandy wasn’t directly involved in this entire nightmare, she didn’t need to be out there alone. Sköll and Hati had already proven they were ruthless. If they found her, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill her simply to remind us that they could.
Ronan’s light came on and the chain on his door rattled. He pulled the door open, bleary-eyed and shirtless. “What is it?” he asked, his expression clearing when he saw me standing there with the phone clutched to my ear.
“Mandy ran off,” I told him.
“Son of a bitch.” He held the door open for me.
Fuki followed me inside and settled back on his haunches right inside the door, standing guard.
Ronan crossed the room and grabbed a t-shirt. I stared at the tattoo on his back, an intricate black feather with blood dripping from the bottom. Dani’s name was etched in the same bright red directly below.
“How long has she been gone?” he asked, jerking the t-shirt over his head.
I averted my gaze, certain he wouldn’t appr
eciate me staring at his memorial for Dani. “No one’s seen her since yesterday,” I said.
Chelle sobbed softly in my ear, and I didn’t know what to say or do for her. Even when Dani died, Chelle grieved alone, never letting anyone see her tears. That she cried now bothered me. A weird sense of déjà vu settled over me. I’d been here before. We’d been here before, waiting for the pack to find Mandy and bring her home. I closed my eyes and prayed things ended as well this time, with Mandy unharmed.
Ronan’s phone rang.
I jumped, my eyes flying open.
Ronan snatched it up without even looking at it. “What?” he said and then listened for a second, looking right at me. “She’s fine. She’s talking to Chelle right now.”
I didn’t have to ask to know Dace was on the other end of the line. I could tell by the way Ronan’s expression soured and his eyes hardened. His grip on the phone tightened as he listened to whatever Dace was saying. “Son of a bitch,” he swore softly.
“What?” I asked, not liking the sound of that.
He ignored my question. “Is Gage still with Chelle?” he asked.
I repeated his question.
“Yes,” Chelle said.
“He’s with her,” I told Ronan.
“Tell them to meet Dace at Professor Edwards’ house,” Ronan instructed and turned away. He paced to the far side of the room, his voice pitched low so I couldn’t hear whatever he said to Dace.
Unease snaked up my spine. I pushed it away, focusing on Chelle.
“I heard him,” Chelle said before I could repeat the instructions. She sniffled again.
“She’ll be okay, Chelle.”
“She has to be,” she said. “I’ll call you when we hear something.”
“Be careful.”
She hung up.
I set the phone aside.
Fuki butted my leg with his head and looked up at me. I reached down and dug my fingers into his fur, holding tight. My mind bounced in a thousand different directions. I tried to ignore the rumblings, but I couldn’t. Something was wrong. More wrong than Mandy running away.
The clock on Ronan’s nightstand counted out one minute, and then two before he hung up the phone and turned around to face me. His expression―that same blank mask he wore like armor―chilled me to the bone.
“Just tell me,” I demanded, clinging to Fuki.
“They found the missing wolf,” he said.
“Aki? They found him?”
Ronan nodded.
“Is he alive?” My heart jumped.
Please, I prayed, let him be alive.
“Yes,” Ronan said, a grim frown plastered across his face.
I wanted to shout in relief, but his expression made me pause. “What aren’t you telling me?” I asked, too scared to speak above a whisper.
He stared at me for a long moment. So long I wanted to shake him.
“Tell me, Ronan.”
“The pack came across him while looking for Mandy. Aki attacked them,” Ronan said, his voice seeming too loud for the small room.
The world lurched around me, slowing down. Time dragged. Stood still.
“I’m sorry, but Lykaois and Buka are dead, Arionna.”
“No.” I shook my head, not understanding. “No.”
Not Buka. Please, not Buka.
“I’m sorry,” Ronan whispered. “Aki killed her.”
No, no, no.
Tears blurred my visions, and dripped down my face.
My chest ached.
Fuki lifted his muzzle and howled, the sound a heartbreaking, defiant scream.
I remembered the last time I saw Buka, when she asked me to take Fuki, to keep him safe for her. She’d been so stoic, and so brave. She let her baby go, knowing she might never see him again.
The world titled and spun around me.
A crushing weight forced air from my lungs.
Blood pumped in a wild rush.
Fuki’s scream ripped through the air again and again, shattering something inside me, making Ronan’s words real.
Buka, my friend, was dead.
I fell to my knees beside the little wolf, sobbing and gagging at the same time.
“Ari… go… before….” Ronan knelt down, trying to lift me to my feet again.
I fought, shoving him away, not willing to hear whatever else he thought he needed to say. I didn’t want to hear anymore. My head pounded.
We’d been betrayed by one of our own. Aki killed Buka. He murdered her.
Rage flickered to life deep inside me, and, just like I had when Sköll and Hati burned Dace’s house down, I reached for more. I kept reaching, pulling more and more of that white hot emotion into me. It stole my breath, burned my lungs. But I didn’t stop drawing on that endless, black pit of anger.
Buka was dead.
Dead, dead, dead.
My vision blackened, pain splitting my head wide open. I gritted my teeth and focused on the wall between me and Freki. It stood like an endless barrier between us, forged of iron. Impenetrable, except for one tiny crack spiraling out from the very center.
Freki, I whispered through the crack, my heart pounding in time to the rage coursing through me. They killed her. They killed our friend. Our wolf mother.
Freki snarled from her side of the wall.
Ronan called my name, but I shut him out, refusing to hear him.
Fuki’s howls echoed in the background, a soundtrack to the corrosive hatred flowing through my veins. Hatred of Sköll and Hati and all they stood for. Hatred of pain and loss and that damn wall standing like a fortress between Freki and me, making me weak, less than whole. Leaving me unable to defend my friends or my mate.
Freki and I were broken, useless. We stood on the sidelines, watching those around us die.
No more, I whispered to Freki, so angry everything in me shook as if an earthquake tore through me. No more.
Freki funneled her emotions into the tiny crack. They connected with mine in a bright, pulsing chain, but it wasn’t enough this time. I wanted more. I needed more.
I pictured Buka in my mind. The ordinary wolf who seemed so magical to me. The mother who claimed me as one of hers the first time I saw her. The friend who comforted me when Dace ran off. The protector who hid outside the hospital day after day while I lay in a coma, waiting for me to be okay again.
Aki killed her. He killed the wolf who accepted me even though I wasn’t whole.
Rage flashed to steam.
I focused on the wall between us, shoving every ounce of emotion at the crack in it. On the other side, Freki did the same, funneling her hatred into that crack.
The barrier groaned.
Dace and Geri burst into my head in a flood of sound. They roared, raging as if they felt the same hatred and anger I felt. Geri leapt at the brick between Freki and me, sensing his mate on the other side.
The barricade shook, but held firm.
I reached for Dace, reached into him, and grasped at the red strands of anger pulsing inside. I wove those threads with mine, forcing them into place. The chain of emotion binding me and Freki together expanded, strengthened. Steam rose from the chain, as if anger alone set it ablaze.
Geri threw himself at the wall between Freki and me again, trying to batter it down with nothing more than his massive frame and determination.
Ari, stop. Please stop.
I ignored Dace, focused entirely on the barrier. The one that kept me and Freki apart, and let our friends die.
Ari, you’re hurting yourself. You have to stop.
I didn’t listen. I couldn’t.
Sparks shot from the chain linking Freki and me, burning me alive.
I screamed again and again as rage unmade me.
The links began to waver and then fray apart. The massive cloud left behind spun, gaining speed as it raced through me, faster and faster, gathering up every ounce of emotion pounding through me.
Everything hurt, burned as if I’d bathed in acid.
&nb
sp; Bone twisted and melted.
My veins shrank, blood turning to solid stone.
Muscle knotted and wrenched, contorting.
Bloodcurdling screams ripped through me, but I no longer knew if they came from me, Freki, Geri, or Dace. We were burning together, all four of us writhing beneath the shattering pain sweeping through me with all the force of an avalanche.
The cloud of emotion slammed into the wall between Freki and me, shaking it dangerously. Bits of brick and mortar crumbled, falling in great chunks. They ricocheted, crashing into me like the relentless cracking of a whip. Freki howled as they hit her too, ravaging her from the inside out just like me.
Our cries merged, blending together into one long, human-like howl of torment.
The barrier between us shattered in a screeching, screaming roar.
Everything went black.
I would like to express my eternal gratitude to Jennie Ashby and Lisa Michel for the thousands of ways they helped make this book a reality. They read, reread, and then did it all over again through each of the fifty versions I put in front of them.
I am forever grateful to Amy Beadle, Amy Stone, Marita Stout, and Renae Cote for their invaluable assistance understanding my vision when most needed. To Beth Dombach, Michelle Knoll, and Naomi Nakashima for lending me their names. And to my family for tolerating me when I spent days on end mumbling to myself, neglecting them, and otherwise living and breathing this other world.
My thanks to Krystal Wade for pushing me to buckle down and encouraging me when most needed. This book would not have happened without her support.
Many, many thanks to Chrystal Schleyer, Michelle Wright, Jade Hart, Courtney Worth Young, Nikki Tetreault, and the staff of Curiosity Quills for taking the scary out of publishing. I cannot thank you enough for everything you guys do. Also, my endless thanks to my fellow Curiosity Quills authors, past and present, for always lending a hand when needed.
Finally, thank you so much to everyone who has waited so patiently for me to get this part of Ari and Dace’s journey written. I am awed by your patience and support. I truly am.
Now that you have completed this book, we hope you will leave a review so that other readers may benefit from your perspective. Authors like A.K. Morgen live and die by your reviews, after all!
