Liam passed him on the way to the ornate spiral staircase in the center of the mansion. “About an hour ago. I’m goin’ to take a few minutes with Caitlin and then go back down there. Maybe he’ll have worn himself out by then. Get some rest.”
“I can’t. We’re only what? Five miles from that fucking dungeon? Or…at least where it used to be before Eli destroyed it. I’m going to shift. See if I can find any hint of Mara’s scent. There was too much magic surrounding the place this morning. It should have faded by now.”
“Peter, ya’ don’t have to prove anythin’ to me, ya’ know. Or to Cade.” Liam’s green eyes held too much sadness and pain. Of all the wolves, Liam carried the most guilt for Peter’s injuries. He’d been the one to get them all to safety after the fire, and even though it had been Katerina’s charm that had stopped Peter from shifting and ensured his injuries would never fully heal, Liam had taken on much of the blame.
“Maybe I have to prove something to myself.” Pulling his sweatshirt over his head, Peter limped towards the back door.
* * *
The mansion satin the center of what had to be a ten-acre estate. Tall spires rose to the sky, heavy leaded glass windows looked to be at least two hundred years old, and the place had two separate wings.
“Consider this your home for as long as you require,” Regulus said when they arrived, beaten all to hell after their battle with five of the Thirteen’s practitioners. “I ask only that you stay out of the west wing basement. The young wolf’s transition will take many hours, and during that time, he is at his most lethal. Oh, and please do not tamper with the draperies. They are all motorized, so if I need to be above ground during the daylight hours, I will not...combust.”
“You might not need to worry about that any longer.” Eli, with his arm around Farren’s shoulders, nodded at Regulus’s hand. Farren’s new mate could command all four elements, and—thanks to the sigils and ancient symbols he’d absorbed from a magical book—could go toe-to-toe with the strongest of the Thirteen.
Regulus stared at his burned fingers. Gold wound its way around two of them, the remnants of a signet ring one of his progeny had given him over a century ago so he could walk in the sun. Its power had faded over the years, but Eli had renewed the magic. If only the Thirteen hadn’t set the vampire to flame. The gold was now permanently fused with skin and bone—or so it appeared to Peter.
“Better to be cautious,” Regulus said as he carried Ewan—one of Farren’s wolves—in from the garage. The boy had been killed by one of the practitioners, his neck snapped, but Regulus had turned him rather than let their group suffer yet another loss. “When the boy has fully transitioned and fed, I will bring you to see him, Farren. He should not make his final choice without speaking to you.”
Farren held on to Eli like he was the only thing keeping her upright. Given that she’d turned Eli’s father into a werewolf to free him from the Thirteen’s endless control…Peter wouldn’t blame her if she lost her shit. Plus, Ewan’s…death…had been yet another blow to her pack, which now consisted of only her and Tierney.
“Thank ya’, Regulus. I never thought I’d be in a vampire’s debt, but I am.”
“On the contrary, she-wolf. You owe me nothing, and I—” he held up his hand, “—owe you everything.”
* * *
As Peter toedoff his boots and shed his jeans and briefs, he stared straight ahead, not daring to let his gaze drift to his chest—or any other part of him. The scars covered most of the left half of his body from his cheek to his calf. The last time he’d been set up on a blind date, the woman had bolted after the first drink. Gone to the bathroom and slipped out the back.
He might as well be Quasimodo. When the pack had moved to Seattle, he and Liam had started their own construction company, but Peter couldn’t actuallybuildanything. He’d been relegated to the office. Hehatedthe office. And though he’d helped fight Fergus when the earth elemental had come after Caitlin, kidnapped Liam, and almost killed them all, though he’d fought with the rest of them just the previous day and helped take down at least one of the practitioners, he still felt like a failure.
Dropping to all fours, Peter reached for his wolf. The animal was a part of him, even though he hadn’t been born a wolf. No, he’d been bitten at sixteen while camping with his Eagle Scout Troop.
His first shift—only ten minutes after he’d been bitten—had scared the crap out of him, and he’d been too afraid to go home again. He’d lived on the streets of Vancouver, Canada for two years until one full moon when he was twenty-three. He’d run so far and so fast, he’d ended up in the woods outside of Bellingham. That’s where he’d met Cade, Liam, and Ollie. After that night, he’d never slept on the street again.
The moon had just risen above the horizon, and its power surged through Peter’s limbs. The shift started with his back, every vertebrae cracking and healing in only a few seconds. Fur sprouted along his spine, spreading out over his ribs, and his ears sharpened into points. As his human teeth were absorbed back into his jaw and the sharp canines pierced his gums, Peter howled into the night.
The pain was excruciating, but the thrill of it…of being able to run faster and farther than his human form could ever hope, of being able to see and smell and heareverything…it was worth it. Every. Single. Time.
Taking off in the direction of the practitioners’ former lair, Peter ignored the zings of pain that ran up and down his left hind leg. It took him twice as long as it would have taken Cade, Liam, Farren, or Tierney, but in fifteen minutes, he reached the spot where the stone building had once been.
Eli had made the whole structure disappear. Shrink in on itself and then simply…vanish. Peter had no idea how, nor did he think he ever would. Eli’s powers were a mystery to Eli, let alone the rest of them.
Taking his time, Peter sniffed around the entire property. Hints of magic remained, along with Cade, Liam, and Tierney’s blood. A few drops here, a few more there. And something else. Something…sweet. Intoxicating. What the hell was it?
Peter retraced his steps, and a concentrated pool of the new scent lingered not far from where he, Cade, Liam, and Caitlin had entered the dungeon. Had there been another set of cells? His lupine eyes could sense more than most humans, and he limped a hundred feet away and climbed up on a large rock angling out of the mossy landscape.
The footprint for the structure was clearly visible. As were two sets of stairs leading down to two separate collapsed dungeons.
Oh, fuck. What if Mara had been in that other underground bunker? Peter leapt off the stone, ignoring the pain in his body, and made a beeline for the second set of steps.
The sweet scent was stronger here. Peter kept his nose to the ground, nudging the dirt in several different spots. Definitely blood. Definitely not Mara’s.
He took his time. Digging through the rubble until he was positive Mara had never been here. No one expected him back at the vampire’s manor—at least not for hours—and on occasion over the past few months, he’d wondered if the rest of his pack gave a shit whether he was even there.
The delicious scent clung to the ground, as if it had been painted on. More than once he fought off the suspicion he was being led into a trap.
If he were, the stench of magic would be stronger. That thought kept him going as he padded slowly, carefully, following a path he was almost powerless to walk away from.
