“That was Gage,” Connor said, heading straight to the dresser on the far side of the room and pulling out a DPD uniform T-shirt. “Davina called and said she found three possibilities as far as the teens Marko might go after next. All of them were born on the first of August at noon, and they live in the Dallas area. Since we don’t know which one is the right kid, Gage is sending out the whole Pack to bring in all three of them and put them in protective custody. Trevor, Hale, and Rachel are meeting me at the address for one of the kids.”
“Meetingus,” she said firmly, climbing out of bed and padding over to the bags from her shopping spree that she hadn’t unpacked yet. Connor had offered some space in his closet, but she hadn’t been able to commit to that yet. It would have felt like she was tempting fate or something.
Connor looked ready to argue, but she arched a brow in his direction as she pulled on a pair of panties and a bra. He gave up the fight at that point, though Kat wasn’t sure if it was the glare on her part or the view of her dragging the black bikini briefs up her thighs.
“Okay, but if Marko or his crew shows up, I want you to promise me that you’ll bail, okay?” he said, yanking the dark blue T-shirt over his head.
Kat turned to reach back into a bag for a fresh tee and a pair of jeans so he wouldn’t see her face. “Definitely. No worries about that.”
She supposed she should have felt badly about lying, but she didn’t. Because there was no way she was going to let Connor and his pack mates face Marko by themselves.
Chapter 20
“The boy’s name is Demarcus Jones,” Trevor said the moment Connor stepped out of the truck, following him around to the passenger side as he helped Kat out. Not that she actually needed help, of course, but he liked making the gesture anyway.
Rachel and Hale were standing a little farther away, their eyes focused on a ranch-style home toward the far end of the cul-de-sac.
“He’s sixteen years old and just came home from school about an hour ago,” Hale said, never taking his eyes off the home.
“How many other people are in the house?” Connor asked, taking in a middle-aged couple casually walking along the sidewalk across the street, the older woman sitting on a porch swing one house over, and three teens playing basketball farther down the street, close to Demarcus Jones’s house.
“Parents and a younger sister,” Rachel said. “How the hell are we going to do this without creating a scene?”
“I think I can handle that,” Kat murmured.
Connor watched as his soul mate—he still couldn’t believe they actually had that discussion so calmly—took several small strides along the residential street, head moving side to side like she was looking for something. He was about to ask what she was doing when she suddenly leaned over and began to sweep up some dirt with her hands. When she had a pile about the size of a thimble, she scooped it up into one hand and began to mumble something softly as she turned and came back to where they stood.
It sounded like she was speaking Latin, but Connor wasn’t sure. He had enough time to catch Rachel and his other pack mates regarding her in confusion as the dirt in her hands began to give off that familiar dim green glow. A moment later, Kat spun in a circle, blowing the dirt out of her raised palm. He was more than a little surprised when the entire pile of dirt and dust flew from her hand and simply disappeared into the air.
A few seconds later, Connor saw the couple who’d been walking along the sidewalk suddenly stop and reach up to rub at their eyes, like they’d suddenly become dry and itchy. At the exact same time, the three teens with the basketball did the same thing, and then the lady on the porch swing. Connor opened his mouth to ask Kat what she’d done, but before he could, the couple went back to walking, the old woman opened the book on her lap and started reading, and the teens began tossing the ball back and forth. Not a single one of them seemed to have the least bit of interest in Kat or him and his pack mates.
“Okay. We’re clear,” Kat murmured, turning to walk casually down the street toward the Joneses’ residence. It was impossible to miss the fact that the people who’d noticed them moments ago didn’t so much as look her way even though she was walking right down the center of the road.
“What did you do?” Connor asked as he and his teammates hurried to catch up to Kat.
“It’s called the Look Away charm,” Kat said. “We could dance down the street with a marching band behind us now and no one would notice a thing. Well, Demarcus and his family would be able to see us, but no one else within about a quarter mile.”
Connor slowed his strides at that announcement, thinking about how handy something like that would have been all those times when a member of the Pack had to wolf out in public for one reason or another. It would have been cool to have all the witnesses look the other way with nothing more than a finger wiggle and a whisperedNothing to see here…move along.
They approached the Joneses’ house slowly and carefully, his pack mates scanning the neighborhood as they went.
“What exactly are we going to say to these people?” Rachel asked when they got to the front door. “It’s not like we can tell them there’s a warlock out there looking to kidnap their son because he was born at noon on the first of August.” When no one said anything, she added, “Or can we?”
Connor shrugged and reached out to ring the doorbell. They were just going to have to wing it. It was what they usually did anyway.
Before he could push the button, the front door swung open. The next thing Connor knew, he was flying backward all the way across the front lawn, wondering what the hell had happened before he landed with a thud that rattled his teeth and slammed the air right out of his lungs.
Pain radiated through his body as he fought to clear his head, still attempting to figure out how he’d ended up lying in the street in front of the house. Then the sounds of shouting and screaming broke through the fog that filled his head, and he jerked himself up into a sitting position, ignoring the crunch of bones moving around inside him in ways that had never been intended.
Gaze still a little blurry, Connor took in the scene in front of him in shock. The front of the house was in complete shambles, with the entire entryway and most of the living room exposed where the door and the walls around it had been blown away. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye: the same three kids playing basketball less than a hundred feet away as if nothing had happened. He guessed it was Kat’s Look Away spell, but it still seemed surreal as hell.
Turning, Connor caught sight of Rachel, Trevor, and Hale climbing to their feet at different points around the lawn. Obviously, they’d been thrown there by the same blast that had tossed him out into the street. Their uniforms were as torn and tattered as his. Panicking, he looked around, desperate to find Kat, terrified she was lying somewhere horribly injured right now. Werewolves could absorb a lot of damage, but she couldn’t.
Then he saw her, kneeling in a flower bed to the left of the driveway. From what he could see, Kat seemed physically okay, looking less abused and tattered than him and his teammates. Then he noticed her hands held defensively in front of her, that greenish glow emanating from her fingertips. Maybe she had protected herself with magic?
Protected herself from what?
Before his muddled mind could follow that line of thinking, a swirl of movement inside the smoke-filled remains of the Joneses’ home caught his attention. A second later, four figures began to emerge, the cowls of their black cloaks covering their heads. It was impossible to see their faces, but he was definitely picking up two distinctly masculine scents and two equally distinctive feminine scents.
