I slid down a near-vertical rock face, my legs shaking under my weight when I stood up at the bottom, and the steep edge I’d landed near crumbled like sand. Calves aching, I leapt back.
Suspicion was already humming through me, a whisper of intuition tickling the hairs on the back of my neck. And then I saw them: aliens, peace signs, names, a compass rose, doodles carved into every spare inch of this fragile rock.
I bent down, running my fingertips over a pair of letters. NS.
Like a pitiful, nervous prey animal, I froze.
This wasn’t a random cluster of steep sandhills. These were the moonrocks.
Which meant the Night Stalker compound was hiding in plain sight, somewhere in the vale below. Ryder hadn’t been hunting me—he’d been herding me.
Chapter 4
Ryder, that bastard. I glared up the hillside as if he’d be standing there, looking down at me with that devilish smirk.
Scanning the dark horizon, I crept along the rock face, hiding within its shadows, trying to gauge a better path to escape. As I moved closer to the bottom, the sandhills towered over me, eroded and menacing.
I leaned over the edge. Pine needles and fractured rock littered the ground, and probably bones—mine if I wasn’t careful. If I didn’t stay calm.
Of course I’d wind up here. If I craned my neck, I could make out the looping letters of the rooftop’s sign just over the thick fence of trees.
The glaring reflection of a floodlight bounced off the curve of the W, the swirl of the A, the O hanging on for dear life. Wizard of Auto.
My fingers curled in on themselves. I knew better now—that the auto body shop was merely a front for the Night Stalkers, for their black market, blood oaths, and nefarious deals.
And of course, the crumbling pale rocks curved around the buildings, providing only one way in or out: through the compound.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I eased myself down the rest of the delicate slope. Fully aware that one misplaced hand, one slip of my shoe, could end in a gnarly fall. Worse, it could attract attention.
I hopped off the last outcrop, sinking into the dirt that lined the dense wall of pine. Light flickered through the trees—a flash of metal, the glitter of sand-crusted glass.
It was quiet. Probably a ruse.
Even if most of the Night Stalkers were still attacking the werewolves, there had to be a guard or two patrolling somewhere, waiting for me to stumble through, ready to enact the next phase of Ryder and Leif’s plan, whatever that was—finally hand me over to Chthonia? Torture me? Siphon my Source in one of these salt-worn buildings?
Because killing my therapist, putting my best friend in the hospital, stealing my mom’s necklace, and outright betraying me wasn’t enough. No—tonight’s ambush and that murderous gleam on Leif’s face made it clear I was still being hunted.
Easing through the row of trees, I darted to the closest building, throwing myself against its peeling emerald wall. My back scraped against its bumpy surface.
Rusty pipes, sheds due to collapse at any moment, old motorcycles, and lots of junk twinkled beneath the stars… but no peddlers, thieves, or assassins. No misfits. No Night Stalkers.
Maybe I was stealthier than I thought.
“Stop right ter.”
Two pairs of hands clamped down on my arms.
Dread washed over me, breaths quick and panicky, heart beating out of my chest. My eyes darted around. No Ryder, no Leif, just the dwarf in front of me, and the two at my sides.
Dropping my shoulders, I faked an air of indifference, even if I was shaking inside.
“You got me.” I glared down at the dwarf, his red beard bright against his pale pink skin.
I tried to elbow the other two off, but their grip was as unbreakable as iron.
The head dwarf matched my furrowed stare. “Yer goin’ to need to come wit us.”
I’d figured that was coming, but still… my mouth went dry. I only hoped the tremble in my bones didn’t make it to my voice when I asked, “Where?”
