When I turned onto the street, I spotted Alice’s car instantly. I swerved to the curb in front of Natalie Newton’s house, parked, and ran for the front door.
On the porch, I sensed wards on the house and recognized Alice’s magic instantly. These were a lighter, much less deadly version of the wards on her own home, but they would pose a problem for me nonetheless.
With the phone at my ear to make sure Alice was still alive, I banged on the door with my fist. The wards crackled against my skin at the force of my knock.
“Alice!” I shouted. “Ms. Newton!Alice!”
The house remained silent as a tomb.
The doorknob crackled with magic too, but it turned. The foyer inside was empty and the house was quiet.
I had no choice but to push through the wards and hope I came out the other side still on my feet. With any luck, Alice had set standard home protection wards designed to deter or disable unwelcome visitors but not fry them too badly.
I stuck my phone in my back pocket and reached through the open doorway. The wards seared my hand and arm, pushing me back. The pain wasn’t excruciating yet, but it would be if I kept going.
Somewhere in the back of the house, Alice groaned.
That sound, and the smell of blood and burned flesh—Alice’sblood and burned flesh—turned my world silent and dark with rage and desperation.
My wolf snarled and shoved me toward the crackling threshold.
SAVE HER, he demanded.
I lowered my shoulder and lunged forward as if I were trying to smash through the door itself rather than the invisible barrier Alice had placed on the house to protect its residents.
The pain would have stopped most humans and some shifters for certain. But I didn’t stop, even when I staggered and almost fell. Crossing these wards felt like what I imagined it would feel like to try to walk through a curtain made of shards of broken glass.
Alice was hurt. Alice might be dying. The fierce woman my wolf wanted as his mate for life could be slipping away from us forever. No wards would keep us out if Alice needed us.
I coughed and tasted my own blood. Warm drops of it ran from my nose and trickled from my ears.
My wolf gave me one final shove, and then I was through the wards.
Chapter
Three
In the entryway,I took two steps, fell against the wall, and shook my head to clear it.
My wolf showed his teeth, his eyes gleaming.Mate has power, he said with approval.Beauty and power.
Alice’s wards on both her own home and this house were strong and masterfully made, but now wasnotthe time to admire them.
“Alice!” I shouted. “Alice, I’m here!”
Still no answer. I lurched through the foyer, bumping into the wall twice and knocking several framed photos askew.
One staggering step at a time, I made it past a living room full of kitschy cat knickknacks and art and down a long hallway, following the odors of magic, fire, and burned flesh. My stomach churned.
Finally, at the back of the house, I found Alice.
She lay face down, unmoving, in a large bedroom near a doorway that lead to a small library.
To my horror, most of Alice’s clothes had burned away, except for her leather jacket, which she’d somehow had the presence of mind to pull up and over her head and face. Herexposed skin had what looked like second-degree burns. The agony must have been overwhelming. She’d likely gone into shock. Passing out had been a mercy.
Nearby, a strange fire had left a six-foot circle of charred hardwood floor between a queen-sized bed and a closet door. A thin, red-haired woman lay crumpled and motionless just outside the circle. She appeared unconscious but otherwise unharmed.
At first glance, it looked like despite her injuries, Alice had managed to crawl from the burned circle to reach her shoulder bag and call for help. Her phone lay beside her outstretched hand with blood on its screen.
