“I see you managed to make it back,” I told it. Not that I’d really been worried. This book had a tendency to roam. I still hadn’t figured out how or why it had chosen to follow me around like a lost puppy.
“What’s that?” Caroline asked, leaning forward with interest.
“A pain in the ass,” I told her.
I’d tried many ways to get rid of my not-so-welcome guide to all things supernatural—including losing it accidentally on purpose, tossing it from a bridge, putting it in the trash can on trash day and even giving it to a random stranger. Nothing worked. It always returned, usually with a sarcastic title designed to insult me. The only thing I hadn’t attempted was setting it on fire.
“It looks interesting,” she said.
That was one way of putting it.
“I’m less interested in the golems now than I am in the Wild Hunt,” I said.
“You and everyone else. Brax has forbidden the wolves from taking part in it. He said anyone caught in those woods during or after the hunt would be punished severely.”
I frowned. “I would have thought the hunt would appeal to your natures.”
It involved donning their fur and chasing creatures through the woods with the end resulting in a fresh kill. It seemed right up their alley.
“Probably, but I think he’s more worried one of us will end up as the prey,” she said.
“I thought only the weak became prey.”
She shook her head. “Common misconception, according to my research. It depends on who calls the hunt. The more powerful the hunter, the more powerful the prey. From what I can tell, the more difficult and challenging the hunt, the more magic generated from it.”
“I was told the kill acts as a sacrifice,” I said.
She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Perhaps, though from what I can find it’s the hunt itself that really gives the magic the boost. Either way, if you sacrifice something that’s weak, you get weak magic out of it. That’s what the book keeper said anyway.”
Ideally, they’d want someone strong enough to give the hunt a good chase but weak enough to be caught.
“What about the mark of the hunt?”
She lifted herself half off the bed. “Why the interest?”
I fiddled with the book, unable to look her in the eye. I thought about keeping the reason to myself. Just as fast as the thought occurred, I discarded it. Hiding and keeping secrets was what had nearly destroyed our friendship in the first place.
“I have one on my back.”
Caroline was off the bed and in front of me, moving with a preternatural speed. “Show me.”
Reluctantly, I did.
“Okay, we’re going to figure out a way around this,” she said, sounding calm. “I’ll talk to Brax, get him to let me attend the hunt.”
“No, Caroline, that’s a bad idea.”
“I’m doing it,” she snapped. “You’d do it for me.”
She was right. I would.
Still, throwing a demon wolf into the mix would probably make matters worse.
“For now, figure out all you can about this. I’m told it’s only half a mark right now. There’s a set of criteria I need to meet before the hunt chooses me as prey. Find out what they are and how I can avoid them,” I said, trying to use logic to keep her from an unwise course of action. “We can create a plan after that.”
She nodded. “Alright, I can do that.”
I held up the book. “I’m hoping this might help.”
