No one else says anything, so I put my faith in them that they know what they’re facing.
“Orion, what did Eliza say?”
“I dropped a pin and the pack is on the way. They’ll start arriving any time.”
I nod. “All right, let’s do this.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The forest on this side of the old mill is thick enough to offer cover, and with the day growing long, the fall of darkness will do the rest. Our group moves in from the juncture of the road, and when I start to feel the pull of the darkness grow, I crouch low behind a fallen log.
Asher takes a knee to my left, and Wylder settles in on my right. From this vantage point, we still aren’t close enough to see the mill, but I don’t need to see it to know what we’re facing.
It may be three stories of rotted wood and broken windows now, but the old mill played a big part in Emberwood over many years: first as a working mill, then as a fancy restaurant, and finally as a community gathering place for country dances.
I rub at my sternum, the darkness inside me rattling against the confines of my mental jewelry box. I push it down, refusing to acknowledge Tharuzel’s influence on me.
The others spread through the surrounding trees—Rowan melting into shadow, Clara's form barely visible behind a cluster of birch, Izzy keeping low with Sebastian near the treeline.
Somewhere in the darkness, the shifters move. I can't see them, but I feel the energy of their presence. At first, it was only Orion and Reid, but then I glimpse the blur of fur as it races past.
Orion circles back to check in after a moment. He’s still in human form and, undoubtedly, eager to let his tiger loose to join his shifter family on four legs. “Half the pack is fanning out in a wide perimeter for containment. The other half will join us for the breach.”
“Awesome, thanks.” That makes me feel a lot better.
With that settled, I edge forward, my boots silent on the forest floor. I’ve only made it twenty feet when Asher grips my arm and pulls me to a stop.
I follow his pointed finger and find a sigil burned into the dirt. Demonic script twists in arches and jagged line, smoking faintly at the edges. The pattern hurts to look at directly, makes my vision blur at the corners.
"We think they’re security wards," Rowan whispers, appearing at my elbow. "I was coming to warn you that we found a couple over there, too.”
I take another look at the sigils and am surprised. “Until now, Tharuzel and his demon minions have only pushed through with vile intentions and brute force. This is the first time we’ve seen them using a defensive strategy.”
“What do you think has changed?” Asher asks.
“Maybe they’re being more careful because their big boss can bleed now,” Rowan says.
Asher grins. “Then I vote we make him bleed.”
Rowan high-fives him. “I like the way you think, Hendrix.”
I love the sentiment and all, but…
“Back to the demon alarm system. Will it trigger if we cross it? I’d rather not alert our enemy to the fact that we’re closing in.”
Rowan shakes her head. “Sebastian thinks it’ll only go off if we trip it, not if we cross it.”
Asher crouches beside it, studying the lines. "How confident is he of that?"
Rowan shrugs. “I can’t say, but I think I can trick them. I think I can use my shadows to make the wards think we're part of the scenery while we cross them.”
“Can you hold it long enough for all of us to cross?"
"Only one way to find out." She flashes us a reckless grin and then drops to one knee and presses her palms against the forest floor. Shadow magic pours from her palms, pooling over the sigil like oil.
At first, I’m not sure it’s having any effect on the ward, but then the sigil flickers like a faulty streetlight and stops smoking.
We cross as quickly and quietly as we can, and then Rowan sets her shadows to continue to trick the sigils for those who follow.
