In my car, Rachel’s warning and Paige’s comment about Jonah stayed with me as I looked at the directions to get the wolfsbane in Indiana. What if Jonah was the answer to fixing this, eliminating the need for wolfsbane and the vampires as a conduit? Finally, sticking with my initial plan, I headed out of the city. If he wasn’t the answer, I would still need wolfsbane, and I wasn’t sure if there was an expiration date on Terran’s offer.
The directions to the location of the wolfsbane placed me at the ingress of a dense wooded area within a small subdivision. Dealing with a faction who preferred to only deal with other werewolves meant my presence was immediately noticed.
Curious eyes peeked from the sides of curtains or through the slats of blinds. Some occupants didn’t bother hiding their surveillance, boldly stepping onto porches to watch me, their eyes lit with that predatory glow as if, by some chance, I didn’t know they were werewolves. In the daylight, the effect of their eerie eyes was diminished.
Shooting the observers—seen and unseen—a cutesy finger wave, I readjusted my sling backpack and headed for the woods. Traipsing deeper into the woodland, the trees became denser and formed a verdant canopy. The streams of light filtering in did alleviate the portentous atmosphere as I navigated obscured trails and gnarled roots that clawed through the soil. Earthy scents, pine, and the sweet aroma of wildflowers were a constant reminder that I was deep in werewolf territory. I pushed aside the recurring and unsettling feeling that instead of this being an opportunity for a retrieval, it could be a setup for being hunted.
My inner skeptic reared its head, and I had to take several deep breaths to rid myself of the forming anxiety. Tannin coated the air along with a cloudy remnant of energy from recently performed magic. Magic on lycanthrope land where wolfsbane is present? Clearly, werewolf and witch relations were quite different here. The Chicago pack and the covens didn’t make it a habit of dealing with each other. When they did, it was purely transactional. Witches performed spells for pay. On rare occasions, in lieu of cash, they’d provide protection services.
Lust seemed to be a great unifier. For a group with a general disdain and mistrust for one another, they managed to set that aside to satisfy their carnal urges. It was beyond me how people who held so much animosity could just discard it at the door when they wanted to fuck.
Despite permission to be on the property, I felt like I was trespassing. The signs affixed to some trees and stakes, warning me that I was on Layne City werewolf property, didn’t help. Unlike covens, who used counties, lycanthrope packs were divided by city. A compromise was made several decades ago to decrease the constant disruption to the pack and violence from challenges for Alpha. Smaller territories meant fewer wolves who believed they should lead.
Deep in the heart of the woods, the sounds of the city that had given me a modicum of comfort that a person was a scream away were gone. Now there were only the rustling of leaves, distant sounds of birds, and woodland creatures. Fingering the side pocket of my backpack, I touched the handles of the knife, stun gun, and baton stored there. Was it enough or too much? Would the arsenal of weapons be perceived as intent to harm or acceptable basic protection? Finding the balance with that was frustrating, and the politics of the supernatural world kept me on a knife’s edge, never confident that I knew what could be deemed offensive and a slight against a faction. My position with the vampires complicated matters. A simple act could easily be perceived as hostile and quickly become the inciting incident of a war.
Searching the area, my eyes latched onto the purple hues of flowers near a pond surrounded by staggered rocks and low grass. A good location for wolfsbane. Nearing the flowers, large rune-etched rocks illuminated when I was close and pulsed when I passed them.
Ignoring the constant displays of magic, I kneeled in front of a patch of wolfsbane. Retrieving the hand shovel, pruning shears, and paper towels from my backpack, I placed them next to me. I snipped a handful of flowers. And dug out another bunch, taking care to save the roots.
“So the rumors are true, you are immune to wards.” The low, raspy whisper broke the silence. A woman stepped from behind the trunk of the oak, her eyes as bright as her smile. Long auburn hair was pulled back into a braid. I wasn’t able to tell if her sandy-hued skin color was a result of sun or Mediterranean genes. Her angular appearance and nose that curved sharply downward gave her a look of quiet authority. Gentle, earthy-brown eyes complemented by long lashes had a disarming effect.Experience had taught me it was foolish to ever allow that to happen.
Her attire—dark-blue wide-legged linen pants, loose-fitting teal button-down, white tank, and mid-height slingback shoes—made it apparent that she hadn’t planned for her day to involve trekking through the woods.
Her smile widened at my silence. She flicked her eyes at the rune-etched stones. “I created the repulsion spell just for you, and you breezed past as if they weren’t even there,” she said. Based on the storm of magic that flowed off her in waves, I suspected she was the Archanist of her coven. If she wasn’t, then her coven was a force of magic, and I didn’t want them as enemies.
My continued silence caused her amicable mood to cool. Narrowed eyes homed in on me like a sniper scope.
“You created it at my request.” The man’s baritone voice boomed in the woodland. The owner appeared before me but not before treating me to his wolf’s eyes. Did that serve as a greeting on the west side of I-94? If someone told me that the new arrival shifted into a jaguar instead of a wolf, I wouldn’t question it. Everything about him, from the sharp, poised angles of his face, crescent-shaped eyes that lifted at the corners, and the flecks of gold in his light-brown eyes, was catlike. A thick mane of wavy chestnut hair fell just past his jawline, framing his face. Broadly built and standing a little over six feet, he moved with the lithe grace of a feline a moment from pouncing on prey.
Slipping behind the witch, his hand made long, lazy strokes along her back. Werewolf/witch relations were definitely different here.
Their speculating eyes waited for confirmation.
“I’m at a disadvantage. You seem to know a great deal about me, but I don’t even know your names.”
“This is Keagan, I’m Lance.” A tight smile revealed just the edge of his teeth. “When my Alpha told me you were to be granted safe passage into our land at Terran’s request, I had to meet the woman who’d managed to convince him to request a favor from us. He always gave the impression he’d rather suffer unspeakable pain—maybe even death—before asking for help from another pack.” His brow arched in a silent request for an explanation.
I didn’t have one to give. I returned his phony smile, hoping I managed to hide my irritation at the interruption. “Nice to meet you.”
“Now that we’re done with introductions, you can answer our question,” Keagan pressed. Lance seemed to prefer that she took the lead with the questioning. Her melodic tone softened her words, whereas there was a warning edge to his words when he spoke.
“Yes, I’m immune to wards,” I admitted, turning to finish storing the wolfsbane and delicately putting an end to the interrogation.
“Take those,” Keagan said, “and leave those behind.” She pointed to the plants with the roots, leveling a reprimanding look.
It was worth a try. And she may have been inadvertently saving me from a hostile visit from the Chicago pack if they discovered I had the means to grow more wolfsbane.
Gathering the flowers, I wrapped them in the paper and placed them and my supplies in the backpack. When I finished hoisting it onto one shoulder, I stood up to find Keagan had moved closer and was watching me with a calculating wariness. Lance sidled in next to her, leaning in to inhale my scent.
Curiosity was a live wire in his eyes and expression. “Animancer?” he inquired.
The questioning wouldn’t stop. He needed an explanation of Terran’s involvement. I didn’t have one that would adequately satisfy his curiosity. Lance was definitely ticking all the boxes in determining how dangerous he considered me to be. Vampire whisperer. Check. Immune to wards. Check. Animancer? Possibly.
Uneasiness settled in my chest at the idea that confirmation that I was an animancer would lead to my life being in immediate danger.
Although his expression didn’t betray his thoughts, there was a calculating menace in Lance’s eyes that made me wonder if he was devising a plan to get rid of me and speculating on different ways he’d deal with the vampires once he had.
“Not an animancer,” I offered. He gave me an appraising look, his lips beveled into a frown. “I’m a glorified assistant for the Houses of Knight and Hollows because I possess people skills that they don’t. You’ve probably heard the rumors; they have no intention of acquiring the skills.” Not an assistant but more like a well-compensated vampire-sitter. I kept that description to myself. “If I had animancer skills, wouldn’t I use those abilities to put an end to this interrogation? Better yet, wouldn’t I have persuaded Terran to allow wolfsbane in our city, making this trip unnecessary? Their reaction to it is excessive. Not all spells that require wolfsbane target werewolves.”
