But, before then, I discovered that all of the gunmen weren’t human like we initially suspected but vampires who had starved themselves. They wanted the shifters to believe they were human Hunters.
But why?
To start a war?
I finally reconnected with Grayson, my vampire lover, only to be found by a coven of witches. The apparent leader—otherwise known as the Mother—is my aunt. She kidnapped and took me…here. Whereverhereis.
Where’s Grayson? Is he hurt? Do the witches have him as well? What will they do to a vampire?
I won’t let them hurt him.
Desperation is a funny motivator. It makes you erratic while simultaneously steeling your resolve and hardening your heart. After all, everyone needs someone to fight for. That person can be yourself or someone you love.
Or both.
I lower myself to my knees in front of the door and peer at the keyhole. I used to pick locks constantly when I was a child—it’s amazing the things you learn when you’re forced to rely on only yourself to survive a discordant world.
I grab a bobby pin out of my hair, straighten it out, and then stick it into the diminutive hole. As I work, I allow my mind to wander, traveling down a path I’m not sure has a visible exit.
I think of…everything. Everyone.
Hale and Gerry, my foster fathers who have shown me nothing but love and respect since I first arrived on their doorstep with a bag of clothes and a chip on my shoulder.
Jake, who recently discovered he was a supernatural himself and not truly alive.
Lissa, who still doesn’t know who she is or how she fits into this strange, frightening world.
Kyle and Silas, my birth fathers, though I’m not certain they’re aware that I know who they are to me.
Desiree, my closest female friend who is fated to go feral because she doesn’t have a mate or a pack.
Ansel, a warlock who has weaseled his way into my heart despite his prickly demeanor.
And I think of my mates.
Christian. Ethan. Emery. Reid. Ashton. Grayson.
When I last saw Christian, he was… God, it was like he didn’t even recognize me. All I saw peering back at me was the savage lethality of his wolf. Is the man still somewhere inside? Or have I lost him for good?
What about the others? I didn’t see Ethan, Emery, or Reid when the gunshots began. Are they safe? Would I even know if they weren’t?
The only saving grace is that Ashton is okay. I may not like the asshole, but I don’t want to see himdead.
All thoughts of my mates momentarily cease when the lock clicks. I pull the bobby pin back with a triumphant smile and then shove it into my back pocket. I have no idea if I’ll need it again.
Straightening, I reach for the doorknob and push it open—but at the same time, someone enters the room. I dodge to the side, barely managing to keep myself from getting a face full of wood.
I blink up at the intruder, all thoughts of escape dissipating, pushed back by my mounting shock.
“Amanda?” Incredulity hitches my voice in pitch.
Amanda Highland offers me a tentative smile as she steps farther into the room, shutting the door behind her.
My social worker looks exactly as I remember her—dark hair pushed back in a severe bun and bright-red lips pursed like she ate something sour, even with her attempt at a smile. She wears a fitted blazer over a white blouse and a dark pencil skirt.
I remember Hale and Gerry mentioning that she’s a witch, but seeing her here…in person…
“Hello, Isabella.” Though her words are curt, her smile is warm. Genuine. A little frayed at the edges, though, but I’m not surprised.
