“Maybe if we say she gets amnesty, she’ll do something to save Trent,” Troy said.
Trevor growled. “Fuck that,” he said. “Trent’s going to be fine.”
A few males murmured. Ella, his mate, looked at him beseechingly. Trevor read it again, pacing, thinking. All around him males talked animatedly, but Trevor paid them noattention, his thoughts loud in his mind. Could Abigail White hear them? Could she see them? He ran upstairs to where his infant daughter and son slept. They were in their beds, undisturbed, thank Rhen.
Cerise, one of his mate’s sisters hurried after him. “Ella asked me to watch them,” she whispered. “Beckett’s on his way. We won’t leave them alone, promise. You go and deal with… everything.”
“Thanks Cerise, you’re the best.”
Trevor went back down the stairs and out the front door, ignoring the melee in the house, his only thoughts on whether Abigail White had some sort of access to them. White was afoxenwitch with the power to summon Khain the demon, and who knew what else. His team of officers had been searching for her for months and they couldn’t find her or anyone in her family. It was maddening and it should not be possible.
A truck pulled in the driveway—Harlan and Eventine. They parked and got out.
“How’s Trent?” Harlan said as soon as he saw Trevor.
Trevor only shook his head. He wouldn’t say. Instead, he mutely handed the note to Eventine. She read it, her expression turning fiery at once. She handed it to Harlan, who also read it, growling when he saw the name on it.
“Amnesty,” Harlan growled. “What the hell is this?”
Trevor motioned at his house. “It poofed into my living room five minutes ago. Find Ella, she’ll tell you everything.”
Harlan pulled his mate close to him and whispered something in her ear. She nodded and patted his face gently. They went inside quickly, leaving Trevor alone in the driveway again. He stayed there for a long time, turning the amnesty thing over in his mind, knowing he could never agree to it without knowing what the witch had done, but also knowinghe couldn’t let his brother d—Trevor cut the thought out of his mind. Trent would be fine.
Rhen, are you fucking serious with this bullshit?he thought viciously. He wasn’t one to question Rhen, but he was ready to fight someone and Rhen seemed as good as any, if she would make his brother d—SHIT. Trevor paced and growled and drove thought from his mind, almost shifting and running but holding himself still, holding himself in non-shift with only the power of his will to be with his brothers and his mate and his young and his team. He would not shift and run inuncontrol. He would NOT. He would shift with purpose or with abandon, only. He paced instead. He made one-sided deals with Rhen instead. He pleaded years of his own life in exchange for this one blessing, but no one listened, no one heard, no one that he could sense.
Trevor paced. An hour passed with no change and no notes. Trevor paced. People came and went with news and food and drinks. Trevor paced. Trent’s heartbeat slowed more. Trevor paced. Another hour passed. He paced. Another hour passed. He paced harder. Trent’s breathing became ragged. Trevor paced.
Finally, Trevor couldn’t pace anymore. He went inside, thinking of nothing but the pure will that Trent come back to them, that Trent be saved. Ella came to him in the kitchen, her face stricken, ‘he’s worse’ stamped on it. Trevor didn’t let himself respond. He would not give up hope. He would stay the course. Trent, strong and healthy and fine and HERE and alive and awake and talking and—
POP
Troy rushed past to the living room. Another note had fallen in the same spot as before. Trevor held his breath and Ella stiffened against him. All around the house, males growledand swore. Trevor squeezed his mate’s hand and she squeezed back. He let her go, heading for Troy and the note.
Troy looked at his own mate, then met Trevor’s eyes. “It says, ‘Use the hot portal.’”
Trevor took the note and read it several times as questions formed in his mind. “The hot portal—” he said, almost to himself, “—is that Graeme?”
POP.
Troy snatched the note out of the air and read it, “Not him. The pure one.”
Trevor’s head pounded and his rage quickened with the sudden and sure knowledge that Abigail White could hear him inside his own motherfucking HOUSE.
***
The hot portal had turned out to be Graeme’s infant daughter, Kendra, who was so hot no one could hold her but her mom and dad, but who also had advanced intellect for a baby. She’d understood her part and done her best to reduce her body temperature drastically so she could touch Trent without incinerating him. When she’d put a hand on Trent, he’d woken up immediately and shifted into a man for the first time ever. Trent wasalivebecause of Abigail White’s advice. It had only been a few hours, but Trent was already up and out and working and by all reports had met up with his actualmateat the Harlem Reservoir north of town.
Trevor was tremendously grateful that his brother was alive, but he was also pissed beyond belief that Abigail White had theballsto pull her magical bullshit in hishouse.
Now to figure out if she was still around.
26—ADragen’sCounsel
Trevor shoved the three notes into an evidence bag and stood up. He strode heavily around his house, tuning into its sounds. He drew his wolf close to the surface, using his wolf’s keener senses. His human ears twitched slightly at the quiet dripping of water in the kitchen and the gentle creaking of the house settling.
“White,” Trevor barked into the silence.
He waited for a beat. No response.
