"Well, that wasn't suspicious at all," Kota muttered.
"Dre, can you stay here with Cyran and coordinate protection for the others?" I asked as I headed for my car. "We need to follow them."
"Where are you going?" Cyran called after us.
"To find out which side your relatives are really on," I replied grimly.
“What?” His bewilderment was genuine.
A pang of guilt tightened my chest, but I pushed it aside and told him my suspicions. He needed to be on the lookout for other suspicious behavior. That delayed us long enough that all we could see when we got to the parking lot was the silver-haired man driving down the street in an old pickup truck. Lucas and Noah had obviously sensed what we had because they were right behind the guy in Lucas’s truck. I shouldn’t have been surprised. My mate’s instincts were often keener than mine. As the alpha of a large shifter pack, they had to be.
"Do you see the other two who left?” Kota asked as she spun in a circle.
Shaking my head, I expanded my magical senses searching for anything that felt off. “No. It’s like they vanished.”
Dani jerked her chin at my vehicle. “We can’t stand around searching for them. We should catch up with Lucas and Noah and find out what that guy is up to.”
"You're right. I'll text Kai and let him know to keep an eye out for the other two around the property," Kota said, already pulling out her phone with the efficiency of someone who'd coordinated way too many supernatural crises.
"Good idea," I told her as we piled into my SUV. The second I cranked the engine, I was speed-dialing Lucas. "Hey, Chief. I see you caught our suspicious friend. Did you happen to spot where the other two went?"
"What other two?" His voice crackled through the speaker, and I could hear the rumble of his truck's engine in the background. "We only saw the old man slinking to his truck like his ass was on fire. We're tailing him now."
"I know. Kota, Dea, Dani, and I are heading out to back you up. Dre and Phi stayed behind to keep an eye on things. Where are you?"
"Highway 61, heading toward the Warehouse District. This guy's driving like he's being chased by the devil."
I gunned it out of Willowberry's parking lot, gravel spraying behind us as we hit the main road. The abandoned industrial district was twenty minutes away on a good day. With the way I was driving and the lack of traffic at this hour, we made it in fifteen.
"He just pulled into the old Crescent City Shipping lot," Lucas reported as we turned onto the potholed street that led to the warehouse district. "And those other two you were asking about? They beat us here. Looks like they're joining up with a whole damn crowd."
We parked three blocks away and picked our way through the industrial graveyard of rusted shipping containers and abandoned forklifts. We used every shadow and scrap of cover we could find. The place smelled like motor oil, rust, and the river.
Lucas and Noah materialized out of the darkness like the professional stalkers they were. Both of them moved with the predatory grace that marked them as apex shifters. Noah held up three fingers, then pointed toward the warehouse. His meaning was clear. Our three suspicious relatives were inside.
We crept closer, using a stack of shipping containers as cover. We used the warehouse's broken windows. We had a clear view inside. My mouth went dry, and my hands started to shake.
Thirty people, maybe more, were standing in a perfect circle around a ring of black candles. The flames weren't normal fire. The light they cast was too green. It was also cold and too much like the sickly glow I'd seen in my vision of Congo Square. Our three suspicious relatives had taken their places in the circle like they belonged there. From the way everyone was swaying in unison and chanting, this wasn't their first supernatural sing-along.
But it was what stood in the center of the circle that made my blood turn to ice water in my veins. There was an altar made of human bones. On top of it was a bowl that I doubt was filled with holy water.
"Well," I whispered as we crouched behind the containers, "this is either really bad news or really, really bad news." I looked at Lucas, whose enhanced hearing was our best bet for intel. "Can you make out what they're saying?"
Lucas and Noah both nodded. Their enhanced hearing picked up conversations that sounded like white noise to the rest of us. "They're arguing about whether to help the Collector or try to stop it," Lucas reported. "Some think they can bargain withit. They want to offer cooperation in exchange for power when it manifests."
"And the others?" Dani asked.
"Want to restore the original binding. They're split on whether they have the knowledge to pull it off," Noah explained.
I studied the group more carefully, noting the mix of ages and the obvious tension crackling between different factions. "They’re the descendants of Les Gardiens du Voile who can't agree on what their ancestors' legacy should be."
"We need to get closer," Dea said as she glanced around.
Before anyone could stop her, Kota was striding toward the group with the confidence of someone who belonged, despite it being a sketchy supernatural gathering. "Evening," she called out. "Heard you folks might be discussing some interesting historical preservation projects."
The silver-haired man stepped forward, recognition dawning in his eyes. "You shouldn't be here. This is a private meeting."
"Actually, we think we should be here," I said, falling into step beside Kota. "We've been researching Les Gardiens du Voile, and we're very interested in their work."
