The forensic expert looks around the table. Adjusting the button on his white collar, Preston turns to Vessa, prompting her to share what she remembers about the experience. For what feels like the tenth time, the woman at my side describes the assailant. How he spoke to her seductively, danced with her, lured her in close enough to blow the powder in her face. Preston listens attentively, noting that while she did experience a wild high, it could’ve been worse—much worse.
According to Dr. Caulder, the early formulas of Ludone were nearly identical to ecstasy. Humans are completely oblivious to the difference between the two. When lycans started demanding a more powerful high, things changed on the market. The effects of the newest strain in the human body are far more profound. If a dose is high enough, or combined with alcohol, it can trigger a psychotic break or a hallucination so vivid that it escalates to an act of suicide.
Vessa swallows tightly. “I know it was only my imagination, but I swear, I saw these faceless demons everywhere I turned.Except the man with the scorpion on his neck. I'll never forget that face. Those fangs.”
A chuckle travels across the table, silenced when I level Childers with a growl. Preston clasps his hands, further intrigued.
“Shall we notify the Council if we stumble on any new leads?” Paul asks, carrying onward. “These are human affairs, after all.”
I answer curtly, assuring them that their involvement will not be necessary at this point. Jabir flinches. He may not always agree with decisions like this one, but his loyalty never wavers.
Preston’s eyes bulge. “Alpha . . .You haven’t notified them about your mate?”
“When I said that this meeting requires your full discretion, I meantfull fucking discretion.The Council will hear nothing of this. Is that clear?”
He frowns. “But?—"
Vessa speaks up, fiddling nervously with her fingernails in her lap. “What if . . .” All eyes shift to her. “What if vampires are working hand in hand with omega wolves? These rogues sometimes become mercenaries, right?”
Paul bursts into laughter.
Demi lets her down delicately, placing a hand on her shoulder. “A bold suggestion, but not very plausible. Lycans and vampires . . . we are like oil and water. Bred to hate each other at the cellular level.”
I bristle as the tide of the discussion shifts, losing its momentum. Uncertainty glazes over everyone’s faces. Realizing that everyone in this room is about to leave without a single lead, my hands ball into fists. We shouldn’t give up on pursuing organized Ludone dealers, but?—
My wolf scratches beneath the surface.There’s something we’re missing.
“I agree with Preston on the urgency of locating their base of operations and confiscating it,” Jabir resumes. “Goddess only knows what new strains have yet to be unleashed.”
My sister shakes her head. “I disagree. The greater concern is vampires flocking to the north. We need to cast our nets wider in order to determine if more are infiltrating wolf country. First-generations don’t wander that deep for prey. What was worth such a grave risk?” She glances at my mate. “Are you sure she didn’t say anything to you before you were compelled?”
Vessa bites the inside of her cheek. “Not to my recollection.”
My hand settles over hers. “It’s your smell, Vessa. It has to be. Maybe it differs for their kind.”
“It does.” Preston’s eyes light up. “Vessa, would you be willing to give me a small sample to take back to the lab? I’d like to see how the blood of an individual with second sight reacts to Ludone in a controlled setting. Perhaps what I find might confirm you weren’t a random target.”
She hesitates for a moment, like she’s weighing the consequences. In a shrill voice, she consents, tugging off her coat. At the same time, Dom’s phone vibrates on the table. He snatches it abruptly and excuses himself to take the call. The other men rise from their seats, giving Preston and Vessa the room.
I remain in the doorway, silently recounting the discussion. Vessa jerks her face away just as the syringe slips into the vein of her forearm. Squinting, I listen to her heart’s protest—the muscle is pounding like a wire has been tripped. Like she’s fighting against every instinct to run. Paul has something against her. That much is clear. But what is she so afraid of?
Vessa
I sit out on my balcony with a glass of wine, the starry canvas of the night sky illuminated by the magical aurora. Strokes of fuchsia and teal bleed into one another, swirling hypnotically. While this opulent suite may be designed to soothe every discomfort, tonight I can’t breathe in it. I haven’t been able to rid myself of this pent-up adrenaline since I walked out of the meeting at Sonic Jungle feeling less than convinced with any of our theories. And that was two whole days ago.
I shouldn’t have let Dr. Caulder jab me in the arm, but refusing would’ve raised suspicion. How can I guard this secret knowing that Axe’s inner circle is closer to unearthing the truth with each day that passes? What if Maurleen and Wyatt don’t make it in time for the next full moon? What plan do I have then?
I step out into the night, softly illuminated by the iron and glass light fixtures that embellish Lupine Manor. Fighting back a yawn, I flip on the flashlight of my new cellphone. Near the fenced-in sparring field, a pair of red elk are startled by the crack in the darkness, their hooves pounding as they flee. By now, the watchmen have changed shifts with fresh sets of eyes monitoring the territory. Even so, if they sense me roaming out here at this ungodly hour, they may attempt to corral me back into the house. My jaw stretches wide with another yawn, but I press forward, crossing the threshold of the forest clearing.
In just six minutes, I’ve lost track of my surroundings. Surrounded by trees, I suck in a sharp breath. I flip the phone around and unlock it, navigating to the dial pad. There are only three numbers I ever bothered to memorize. One belongs to a person who is dead, the second to a witch, and the third . . .
Tears form at the thought of hearing my father’s voice. I remember the last time I called him. Vividly. It was the first anniversary of my mother’s death. Overcome with grief, I snatched Maurleen’s phone from her purse and punched those ten digits, not anticipating that he would actually pick up. But he did. All I could do was breathe heavily into the speaker, trying to keep myself from cracking.
“Vessa,” he rasped. “Is that you?”
I dropped the phone and hung up, cursing myself for disturbing his peace. To this day, I wonder if he still thinks about that call. I wonder if he and my brother have given up on me. If they have moved on.
I’ll never forget the two of us giggling in our backyard tent the summer we were twelve and nine. Benjamin’s eyes were glued to the night sky through his telescope, zooming in and giddily describing which celestial bodies twinkled across the horizon. Just to think, he would love the view from these mountains.
