Page 10

I rushed back to my room, slid on my jacket, and grabbed my bag. “You need to stay here,” I said to Boo.

He chattered unhappily.

“Be a good boy and look after the house while I’m gone. I promise I’m okay, and I won’t be late.”

I lifted him from my shoulder and put him on the iron headboard, then rushed out the door. Boo exploded into the air and flew past me, clicking and chirping the whole time, making it clear he was not happy about being left behind again.

“Boo, stay. I’ll be back soon.”

With one last squawk, he flew up to the light and hung there upside down, watching me walk out the door. No doubt he was planning to stay there and nap until I came home.

Warmer weather was on the way, but it was still cool at night, and I wrapped my jacket around me and jogged to my car. I headed to Evie’s house first. She hadn’t been home the other times I’d stopped in looking for Luke, but it was worth another try.

She wasn’t home, though, so I quickly wrote a note and slid it under her door, telling her to call me ASAP, then headed off to the last place I’d seen Luke, the Dogwood fights.

Fight night was yesterday, which meant the usually packed parking lot and crowded building was empty when I pulled up.

Grabbing the flashlight from my glove compartment, I shoved it in my bag, slung it across my chest, and headed toward the huge, deserted building. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but Luke had been here last night, so it was a good place to start.

The door was locked, of course, so I made my way around the building, searching for a way in. I aimed my flashlight at the windows around the back and noticed one ajar. “Bingo.”

Shoving over a nearby steel drum filled with trash, I heaved it back up so it was upside down.

Doing a quick search of my surroundings, to make sure I was still alone, and more than a little pleased when I confirmed that I was, I used a crate to climb onto the drum.

Dragging the window open, I wriggled half of my body through.

The scent of blood, sweat, and aggression hit me straightaway.

I lifted my flashlight and searched the room.

They used this space as a locker room by the looks.

There was a bench seat directly below me.

Handy . Sliding the flashlight back in my bag, I hitched my knee on the windowsill and maneuvered my body through the tight space, so I could drop to the bench feetfirst and not break my neck.

My boots hit the wood with a bang that echoed through the room.

I froze, listening again to make sure I was on my own.

When everything remained silent, I climbed down and headed along the hall, checking the other rooms that I passed.

All were empty or had a random piece of furniture in them, but nothing that screamed clue!

Though, honestly, I wasn’t sure what would qualify as a clue.

I was hoping my gut would help me out with that.

I carried on along the hall and into the main room. The cleanup crew hadn’t been through yet, and litter covered the floor. Empty bottles and plastic cups cluttered surfaces and overflowed from more steel drums, and a couple of bloody towels sat abandoned on the blood-splattered floor of the cage.

Why would Luke come here? Was he really that stupid? Selling drugs in a place like this was pure insanity. Getting caught selling, on land owned by shifters, was asking to get torn to shreds.

I shone the flashlight around the room. Nothing of note caught my eye. What the hell did I think I’d find here? This was a stupid mistake. I started back the way I came, lighting up the floor as I went so I didn’t trip on anything—then something caught my eye.

I crouched, picking up a small piece of black cardstock, a tiny envelope with a familiar emblem drawn on it in silver.

I opened it, but there was nothing inside.

I quickly took Luke’s notebook from my bag.

The emblem was the same. I sniffed the envelope and recognized a handful of ingredients immediately.

“You little idiot.” Real fear filled me now that I’d confirmed what he was doing. This was bad.

Oh gods . All the overdose emergency calls Jack and I had gone to. Had they taken the drugs Luke made? I stood and shoved the small envelope into my pocket.

“Who’s in here?” a growly voice called.

Shit.

A light was shined in my eyes, and my flight instincts kicked in before I could think about it. I bolted, sprinting for the locker room. A growl rolled through the room, followed by the pounding of heavy boots behind me.

Pumping my arms, I leaped onto the bench seat and dove for the open window—my ankle was grabbed and I was yanked back down so hard that my ribs collided with the side of the bench a second before my head slammed into it.

Hissing, I struck out with my claws that had extended all on their own, long and black and pointed, while my arms flailed like windmills. The male roared, cursing as I scrambled to my feet and bounded back up on the bench and all but dove through the window.

My shoulder slammed into the ground on the other side, hard. I tried to drag myself back up and screamed. My arm was useless, hanging limply at my side. Groaning, I forced myself back to my feet and, trying to hold my dislocated shoulder steady, ran for my car.

Snarls and growls echoed around the parking lot. I spun. Wolves, a lot of them, had me surrounded and were closing in. I fumbled for my keys, and they slipped from my fingers, hitting the ground. Before I could scoop them up, I was grabbed around the waist and slammed into the hood.

My fear turned me into a feral creature. My eyes were a red haze as I went wild, hissing and fighting, trying to slice my captor with my claws.

The wolf fisted my hair and slammed my head against the hood, then wrenched it back. “What the fuck are you doing here, demon?”

Blood poured from my nose and lip, the slice in it reopening. To them I was all demon, and they were going to kill me for it. If I couldn’t explain who I was and why I was here, they would tear me to shreds—and even if I did explain, they might still kill me.

The wolves had been warring with the feral demons in Oldwood Forest, forcing them back, fighting to regain the territory they’d lost a long time ago. To them, I was the enemy. I was just another demon encroaching on their home.

The wolf curled his fingers around my throat and spun me to face his pack mates. Their glowing eyes stared back, filled with fury and hatred, their chests heaving, veins bulging, all of them out for blood.

“Speak, scum,” he snarled. “Or I’ll fucking make you speak.” He shook me roughly. I tried to unlock my jaw, but fear had me frozen, had thrown me back several months, to the basement of our coven house, trapped by another monster who wanted to hurt me—who had hurt me.

“Put her in the van,” he growled.