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Ok, so maybe he had been a little fucking obsessed. And a little frantic when she didn’t come back. Maybe he’d been worried, too, maybe he was a lot of fucking things. Maybe when she hadn’t returned his messages and his calls, when she hadn’t come back two weeks later, he’d been worried enough to set his hounds on her scent, worried enough to send out feelers looking for any information about Fey and what trouble she might be in.

Maybe he’d wanted to help.

But now?

Now he was fucking pissed.

The packet in front of him was thinner than most he received from his hounds. Thinner, even, than the packet of information he’d received about Phillip Danvers. The packet she’d convinced him to get for her.

No. The packet his hounds had delivered, the packet containing every piece of information they could find about Fey, had only been one sheet of paper.

Because as far as his sources could tell, no Witch going by that name even existed.

Chapter 30

LILITH

The electric buzz coming from the fluorescent lights grated on Lilith’s already foul mood. She sighed angrily, drumming her long fingernails on the restaurant counter and scowling at everyone who made the mistake of glancing her way.

The other Factions were smart enough to give Witches space in public, smart enough to treat them with the healthy combination of fear and respect they deserved. They were the Goddess’s most cherished children, after all. But the patrons here were taking it to the next level, and Lilith was sure that when they looked into her eyes, they saw murder written there.

Fucking Fey, Lilith thought to herself. And then, after an uncomfortable level of guilt flushed under her skin, she tried to shake it off by refocusing her anger.

Fucking Alice.

This was all Alice’s fault, after all. It was Alice who had left them with this stupid “mystery” that Joy and Fey couldn’t seem to let go of. Alice, who had gotten herself killed. Alice, who should have known better. Done better.

Lilith didn’t mourn. No, she fumed.

How could she have gone and gotten herself killed like that? How could she have been so stupid, so reckless? If she’d just reached out to them for help, if she’d just tried to talk to them…

And Joy. Everyone knew that she and Alice had been fucking, which was fine, whatever. It’s not like Lilith cared or anything. But there was a big difference between fucking and feelings, and Lilith had tried to get her sisters to understand that, tried to stop them from falling so head over heels in love with each other…

Lilith gnashed her teeth together and snarled loudly enough the couple seated near her shot her a frightened glance. She narrowed her eyes back at them, giving them a sneering smile that had them both quickly looking back at their slices of pizza.

Good.

If Alice hadn’t gotten herself killed, Fey wouldn’t be caught up in this new obsession of hers. Wouldn’t be trying to drag all of them down with her. And they wouldn’t have argued then, would they? Lilith wouldn’t have yelled at her, wouldn’t have stormed off, and spent the night and half of the next day away from her sisters, would she? It’s not like she needed to apologize or anything. She was only trying to help, trying to get her sister to see reason, to?—

“Order up,” came a call from the counter, and the kid working the register at “Shifters’ Best ‘Za” set her pizza boxes down at the pickup counter.

About damn time.

Lilith slapped a silver coin on the counter to cover the tip before grabbing the tower of pizza boxes and heading for the door.

She couldn’t remember Fey’s favorite pizza topping, so she’d ordered a large of everything that looked good. One of them had to be Fey’s favorite, right? And judging by the smell of the place, and how packed it was this early in the evening, these pizzas just might be good enough that Fey would consider forgiving her.

Not that she needed forgiving. Not that she’d done anything wrong.

Lilith struggled with her armful of pizza boxes, trying to maneuver the exit door open with her hip. Before she could manage, though, the door opened from the other side, and she stumbled, nearly falling against the person standing there.

“Watch it, you—” Lilith hissed. But she paused, her lips parted slightly, as she looked at the male in front of her.

The Shifter who held the door open was all kinds of Fine, with a capital F. The guy had to be almost six and a half feet tall, all muscle, and just a hint of menace. Just her type.

And wouldn’t you know it? He seemed to be thinking the same thing about her, judging from the way he looked her over. His green eyes flashed as he took her in, gaze traveling down her body in that slow, dangerous assessing stare she’d seen in Wolf Shifters before, and his nostrils flared as he took in her scent.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice a little breathless.