Chapter Four
Rogue
G emma collects me from the bar, and we land on the outskirts of the shifter town that belongs to the North American Pack. I wobble around, clutching my overly sensitive stomach. It’s been out of whack all night, which isn’t unusual after a powerful vision.
I’m still baffled how that man seemed to sense me. I don’t have the first clue what kind of supernatural he is, but he would have to be something powerful to sense me in a vision.
He would also have to have some form of precognition for that to even be possible.
I think.
Honestly, I don’t have any idea how that would work, and it makes my skin prickle with unease.
“Damn, you look worse than normal,” Gemma says, frowning as she reaches out to steady my arms.
“I still haven’t recovered from that last vision.”
“In that case, I’m not taking you with me as I do reconnaissance.” Her long dark hair falls over her face as she glances around. “You stay here. It’ll only take me a few minutes.”
I nod and lean against the wall of the building we landed next to. “Sounds like a plan. You remember what Sanders looks like?”
“Yeah, Rogue.” She looks at me funny. “Skinny, messy blond hair, big-ass glasses. I’ve got it. I’ll also see if I can locate Ember.”
I frown. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded. Of course Ember is the priority. I’m just saying that if you spot him, we should try to bring him in. After we’ve ensured Ember is okay, of course.”
“I knew what you meant,” she lies, disappearing in a cloud of dark shadows.
This is why people think I’m cold and calculating.
I hate it.
I care about Ember.
We need to be sure she’s okay, and that’s the priority, but my brain has always been wired in a weird way.
I’m drawn to complete our jobs or to follow the law exactly how it stands. Others aren’t so rigid, and it makes me come off as unlikeable and, even worse, uncaring.
The slamming of a door catches my attention.
That was nearby.
Maybe even the exact building I’ve been leaning against.
I slowly edge around to the side of the house, keeping my back close to the wall as I move.
The low sounds of someone muttering gets louder as I approach the front of the building.
The voice appears to be male, and though it’s almost familiar, I can’t place where I know it from.
Peeking around what I assume is the front of the building, my jaw falls.
There’s a sidewalk that ends in a small porch of what I now suspect might be a home, but it’s who stands on the steps leading to the porch that makes my heart thump.
Ethan Sanders!
Our target in the case Owen assigned to Ember, Gemma, and me is only feet away.
In the vision I had the other night in the bar, I saw him speaking to someone I couldn’t make out, but I heard him say he planned to come to pack lands.
And now here he is.
His whitish-blond curly hair falls over his forehead as he adjusts his huge black-frame glasses.
Sanders is at least six-foot-two or six-three, and he has an extremely slender build. He’s cute in a nerdy way that doesn’t scream dangerous, but you never can tell from appearance alone.
I’ll need to apprehend him, eventually, but locating Ember and ensuring she’s all right is a more pressing concern.
Sliding around the edge of the building, I do my best to feign confusion and amp up the fact I’m not a threat.
I flutter my lashes and pull a hand to my chest. “Sorry to bother you, but I lost my friend somewhere around here…”
“Seriously?” His eyes widen, and he rocks back on his heels. “Another one?” There’s a lilt to his words that I think speaks to a British accent, but I could be wrong.
“She’s about my height, maybe an inch shorter. Long blonde hair, blue eyes, and she’s an alpha,” I say, still trying to decipher what he meant by another one.
“Yeah, your friend is fine. Or she will be. Having all of you invade pack lands…” That’s definitely an English accent he’s rocking, although it almost seems older or more ancient.
“You’re only going to make things harder on her.
She needs to heal and take control of the pack on her own.
Shifters are incredibly secular. They won’t tolerate an unknown fae any better than they’ll handle a dragon. ”
“Veryn is here?” I sputter, blinking repeatedly. “Heal from what?”
“He’s with the alpha. He already sent away his family, and I don’t want to be rude, but you should give him a call…
” He rubs the back of his neck. “Preferably once you’re off pack lands.
How did you get in, anyway? No one is supposed to be coming or going until the new alpha is announced to the pack. ”
He hasn’t spoken a single lie, and my thoughts spin in circles as I try to decipher what he was alluding to.
When it clicks, my mouth goes dry. “Are you saying Ember is now Prime Alpha?”
“Yes.” Sanders nods, making his whitish-blond hair fall over his forehead. “She was injured during the challenge. She needs the opportunity to rest and recover.”
Gemma appears in a cloud of smoky shadows, and I was so distracted that I didn’t even pick up on the buzz that normally forms on my skin when she appears. “You found Sanders.”
Shit.
There goes my cover.
“If you take us to Ember and cooperate with our investigation into The Doctor, we might not even need to take you into custody,” I tell him, offering a tight smile.
He’s probably going to end up in the paranormal council’s custody, but it was just true enough that I’m allowed to say it.
His eyes widen, and he frowns, glancing between the two of us.
He’s going to run.
They always run .
I’m not surprised when he does an about-face and takes off.
Gemma chuckles. “You are terrible at trying to set suspects at ease.”
“I’m not the one who scared him off. That was all you,” I hiss. “We have bigger problems. He said Ember fought the alpha and won .”
“Damn.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “And Veryn is around here somewhere.”
“Damn,” she says again, wrapping her shadows around me. “Try not to puke this time.”
I frown.
That would be preferable to me too.
The shit hits the fan as we land near a small house.
Sanders and the man I saw talking to Ember at the bar in my vision stand around, speaking to one another.
Veryn, Ember’s mate, stands a few feet away.
Siphoning hits me just as hard as it has all night, but I do my best to follow along with the conversation that ensues.
The man from my vision is Lorcan. He’s apparently one of Ember’s mates. The fact that Veryn seems accepting of him makes me suspicious, but I’m more focused on Sanders.
I mean, Cohen.
Whoever the hell he is .
The paranormal council gave us bad information, and Ethan Sanders is Cohen’s alias.
Or one of his former aliases.
There’s far too much chaos happening when I already feel pukey.
Veryn assures us Ember is okay, but my gaze keeps migrating back to Cohen. Something about him is niggling at my senses, and I don’t know what my magic is trying to tell me.
Veryn and Gemma argue about heading to Ember’s to pick up clothing and supplies for her. They also need to ensure her family doesn’t storm pack lands. Now that she’s alpha, she has to be the one to defend her position, or the wolves will never trust her.
Cohen watches me as he speaks to the druid—Lorcan. Even the thought of him being Ember’s mate is insanity, and I’m not sure I believe it.
Druids are incredibly powerful.
Could he be using magic to lull Veryn and Ember into believing they are fated?
No.
That doesn’t make sense.
My magic detected no lies when he referred to her as his mate.
Tonight flipped upside down so quickly, it’s almost hard to process.
My magic buzzes, pulling me toward my suspect.
Something isn’t adding up.
The file said Cohen was a shifter, but my insides tingle, trying to draw me toward him, and my magic doesn’t seem to view him as a threat.
It tugs so violently that I stumble in his direction.
That is extremely disorienting .
My magic isn’t usually so insistent.
To cover for the fact I have zero control over my body, I say, “I need you to answer a few?—”
I don’t even get to finish my sentence as I’m pulled into the vision.