Zeppelin didn’t waste time with questions. “On my way.”
Every instinct screamed at him to keep looking. He prowled to the back door, peered out at the yard. Porch lights glared against the glass, illuminating the wet grass and the line of trees hugging the forest.
Nothing moved.
He wasn’t expecting to see a mate performing somersaults, but it would have been better than this.
No sign of anybody in the front yard, either. The only people visible were the ones locked in his memory, laughing or half fighting over pie and cinnamon rolls.
The footsteps coming down the hall made the hair on his arms stand up.
Zeppelin didn’t walk.
He moved.
Wade braced himself at the island, keeping one eye on the kitchen entryway.
His alpha entered, looking like he’d been carved out of the wall. He glanced once at Wade then at the kitchen.
“Talk to me,” Zeppelin said.
Wade pointed at the evidence as he ticked them off. “Lights on. Snacks and coffee left out. Four mate phones just lying there, but not a mate in sight. You tell me.”
For two seconds, Zeppelin just stared, processing. Then his jaw bunched like a pit bull’s.
“Where the hell would they go without their phones?” Zeppelin muttered, mostly to himself, but Wade caught every word. His alpha’s gaze raked over the room, detail by detail, just like Wade’s had.
Zeppelin’s expression darkened. Without another word, he strode to the doorway and bellowed up the stairs, voice carrying through the entire house with that alpha command that demanded obedience. “Everyone downstairs! Now!”
The stampede started immediately. Wolves poured down from every level, some half-dressed, others looking like they’d been dragged from sleep. Chase appeared first, followed by Vaughn, then Quinn practically vaulting down the last few steps.
Wade clocked it all as background noise, which said something got the mates, and it wasn’t the need for a fucking stroll.
Everyone’s eyes zeroed in on Zeppelin.
Wade kept his arms folded so his hands wouldn’t shake. He ticked off the details for the other men, not trusting himself to keep the fear out of his voice.
“What’s going on?” Chase asked.
“The mates are missing,” Zeppelin said flatly. “Search every room. Every closet. Every corner of this house.”
The pack scattered like buckshot, tearing through the house with systematic efficiency. Wade took the upstairs, checking every bedroom, every bathroom, even the goddamn linen closet. Behind him, he could hear doors slamming, voices calling out as each room came up empty.
Wade headed downstairs where the pack was reconvening in the kitchen, all of them wearing matching expressions of frustration and confusion.
“Nothing,” Bayne reported. “They’re not in the house.”
Zeppelin dragged a hand through his hair, already pulling his phone out. “Then we expand the search.”
Wade looked around the room. The air tasted wrong, like an empty gas station in the middle of the night. All the men knew how to fight. None of them were equipped for this.
Zeppelin started making calls. The alpha reeled off names, talking to any wolf, bear, or whatever the hell else patrolled the local packs. He put out a missing persons alert, mate edition. Within minutes, every shifter in the county would be out looking for five men with zero ability to pass as ordinary humans.
“They’re not in town,” Wade said once Zeppelin had ended the last call.
His alpha’s eyes snapped to him. “What’re you thinking?”
Even though Zeppelin appeared calm, Wade could see the worry and fear in his eyes.
