Page 76 of The Fated Hunter Wolf

“Shit is getting real,” I said.

“How do you know?”

“Because that’s Killian’s I’ve-been-hunting-things-that-could-eat-me face. I know it well.” I turned to look at her, noting how her power made the air around her vibrate. “Question is, what do they want badly enough to send our best enforcer running scared?”

Three sharp knocks rattled the door exactly thirty seconds later.

“Come in,” I called, stepping away from the window and trying to look like I wasn’t suffering from supernatural withdrawal.

Logan entered, his alpha energy filling every corner of the small space. His eyes found me first—checking for damage, probably scenting the changes in me—then looked at Sable with an expression I couldn’t read.

I could smell his concern. His confusion. His growing suspicion that something fundamental had shifted in the few hours since he’d left us alone.

“We’ve got a situation,” he said.

And judging by the way Sable had gone perfectly still beside me, it was about to get a whole lot worse.

26

SABLE

My blood ran cold.

I can feel them.

The vampire trackers circling Orion territory slid through my awareness like shadows cast by an unseen fire. They pulsed as pressure points in my skull, each one a migraine waiting to happen. My vampire heritage answered theirs, calling across miles of forest and stone like a twisted supernatural homing beacon.

At least three of them. Not on Orion lands yet. It’s just a matter of time.

The knowledge came unbidden and unwanted, and it was absolutely terrifying in its clarity. I pressed my palms against my temples, trying to shut out the sensation, but it was like trying to ignore my own heartbeat. The connection existed whether I acknowledged it or not, threading through my consciousness with increasing insistence.

“What is that?” Logan asked, his nose in the air. Kenza and Killian entered behind him.

“Smells like fucking,” Kenza announced with her usual tact. “Un-fucking-real.”

“Enough, Kenza.” Logan shut her down with his alpha authority, but his attention remained focused on whatever scent had caught him. “I’m not talking about that.” He looked at Killian. “Do you smell it too?”

“I’m not sure,” Killian replied, his voice hoarse. “I’ve been smelling vampire since they first entered our territory. This isn’t quite that. Or maybe it is. You think they’re closer than we thought?”

“You okay?” Rhys asked me, trying and failing to look casual while his hands shook with barely controlled withdrawal.

“Something like that.” I couldn’t tell him the truth, that I was tracking the vampires through some twisted vampire GPS system embedded in my DNA. That every moment I used my ability to track them, I was probably sending signals right back to them.

Rhys studied my face with the golden eyes of his wolf. Our forced proximity had made him uncomfortably observant, able to read my moods like weather patterns.

“Stop,” he said quietly.

“Stop what?”

“The guilt. The self-loathing. The Sable emotional cocktail.” He shifted, as if searching for a position that didn’t make his withdrawal symptoms feel worse. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Everything. I’m not telling you everything.

He cocked his head. Shit.I heard that.

My breath caught in my throat. That was supposed to be a thought only for myself. Had I lost all control of my thoughts through our bond?

Logan shook his head, apparently missing our silent exchange. “I must be scenting them through the wind patterns. Which can only mean they’re close.” His eyes swept over Rhys and me, taking in details that probably painted anuncomfortable picture. “We’ve got updated intelligence on the vampire situation and the Council.”