Page 25

Chapter 25

NATE

I’m crammed in the elevator with a lot of other people, which already annoys me. They chatter loudly, excited about the day for some reason.

There's nothing for me to be excited about, especially knowing that Madeline won't be at work this morning.

The doors open, providing sweet relief and head to my office. The people around me are already hard at work, most of them shifters. Everyone wants to get their work done before the full moon in a couple days.

I pause at Graham's door and contemplate opening it, but he does it for me, startled to see me standing there. “Nate, what's up?”

I walk in without saying a word. Graham, who's used to me, closes the door. He returns to his deak like he wasn't about to leave a second ago.

“You know, I always wondered how you work with Rose so close to you,” I say, taking a lap around the office. A few months ago, I would've been the one hounding Graham to finish his work. Now he’s my confidant.

“And now?” he inquires.

“I get it now. She's a calming presence. Madeline isn't here and I'm already dreading going to my office, and—why are you smiling at me like that?”

Graham leans back in his chair, clearly pleased with himself. He shakes his head. “It's just nice to see the tables turned. It's so wild—I never pictured you being in love.”

“It's not love, it's this stupid bond,” I insist.

Graham gives me a casual wave. “You two might be better off waiting to start anything until you figure out what you're feeling.”

“That's easy for you to say. You loved your woman before your bond snapped into place.”

“Yeah, I guess I'm lucky. I mean, it involved a lot of things. Like getting shot at.”

“There’s that,” I nod. “Look, I'm going to go to my office and try to get some work done.”

“Don't think about Madeline too much,” Graham calls after me, not bothering to hide his amusement.

I go straight to my office, and lock the door. The space feels cold and the silence rattles me. The air conditioning hum is no replacement for the sound of knitting needles creating a cozy blanket.

I silently wish she was with me, knitting so I knew that everything was comfortable and back to normal. It was always so nice seeing her do something enjoyable. I suddenly realized it had become relaxing for both of us.

I scan through my emails, looking for anything critical. Something that pops out is from Grant; I'd missed it. I pick up my phone and call him right away. The alpha takes a while, but eventually answers the phone. “Nate, is everything okay?”

“Yes, I missed your email. Are you coming to town?”

“Yes. I need to sort out a few things and check on Cora. It will be low-key, though.”

“Okay. Madeline said Cora is recovering, but it's still pretty slow.”

“Yes. I'm afraid these times are becoming difficult for our kind. It's going to be a rough period, so make sure you watch over each other.”

I stare at the empty office, feeling f guilt pangs. “Of course, we always watch out for each other.”

“Good. I'm counting on it.”

The call ends and I stare at the chair where Madeline usually sits. What am I going to do with you, Madeline?

I step out into the afternoon sun, taking in fresh air. I get in my car and drive down the street. An annoying song plays on the radio, but I continue driving, until I reach my destination. I park and stroll to the door, knocking casually.

“Madeline?” I call, knocking again. “It's me.”

Still no answer, causing my worry to increase. I take another breath and knock again. This time, however, I catch a whiff of something familiar. Instead of the sweet, flowery scent of my mate, what assaults me is a sudden whiff of gasoline and gunpowder.

The hairs on my body stand on end.

Eyes are on me. I step away from the door, sniffing the air and looking around for signs of danger. My senses are heightened by the threat of impending danger. I turn back toward the road. Am I going crazy? It's the middle of the day.

My instincts kick in and I drop to the ground. A bullet flies just past my head, almost grazing me before it’s embedded in a nearby tree. I look up, seeing the sun flash the projectile. Silver!

After several beats I jump up, looking where the bullet came from. I see a man in a black balaclava holding a pistol. Our eyes meet and for an instant we watch each other, waiting for the next move. Then he turns and disappears.

“What the fuck?” I immediately chase him, summoning my superhuman power. Why would he attack in broad daylight?

The hunter turns a corner, and I follow in time to see him jumping into a car. I get there a moment too late, only managing to leave a single scratch on the vehicle. As the car drives away, I commit the license plate number to memory.

I whip out my phone and call Graham immediately. “Graham, I was just attacked by a hunter.”

“What the fuck? Where are you? Are you alright?”

“I'm fine, but he managed to escape.”

“It's not even dark yet,” Graham says. “Why does a hunter attack in plain daylight?”

“I don't know, but there's a lot going on. He attacked me in front of Madeline's apartment; she isn't home.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“No, but I'm going to find her. I'll send you the hunter's plates. Run them for me, let's see if we can find this son of a bitch.”

“I'm on it. Send it over.”

I end the call and quickly send the text to Graham. As I send the text I notice another notification.

“I missed a call?” From the Knitting Store?

I call immediately, waiting for Madeline to answer and tell me she’s okay. There’s no answer. I try again and again. Still, no answer. “What's going on?” I mutter.

I jump in my car and speed through busy streets to the store. I find the store open when I arrive. However, I pause at the entrance, sensing the lingering scent of hunters.

It's too faint for a hunter to still be there, but I immediately know that one was just here—perhaps the same one who just tried to take me out.

I push the door open slowly, watching for even the slightest hint of danger. There's no one here though, so I walk further into the store. “Madeline?”

Her scent is faint, just as the hunter’s was. If she was here before, she isn't anymore. I move toward the counter, seeing nothing out of line.

That's when I see it; a trail of blood leading down an aisle. Panic builds as I follow the crimson trail. It leads me to an area with two couches.

Hannah and Lucca sit on chairs with lifeless open eyes, each with a bullet wound in their chest. I touch their wrists but feel nothing but cold.

They’ve been murdered.