“What do you know about my past?”
“I know there was a woman, hair as red as fire. She protected her daughter … so small … the only thing she had left from a mating with a man long gone.”
The car pitched to the side, but Giuliana got it back under control. They flashed forward, her foot heavy on the gas.
“They killed my mother. The Renegades.”
The redheaded woman Giuliana spoke of.
Are you sure it was your mother?
I remember.
Fuck. This changed things … just a bit. But the witch doctor had succeeded in something. Pasquale was no longer afraid of the car. He was too focused on his mate and her flying emotions.
Stop the woman from speaking.
She’s trying to help, Snow.
Snow’s aggravated growl filled Pasquale’s head, but he said nothing more.
“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Giuliana forced out between clenched teeth.
“I didn’t know the woman myself. And I only just picked it up from your man here.”
Pasquale sat back on his haunches.
“You are wondering how?”
No, of course not.
He rolled his eyes, and Zahara laughed. “Because I’m me. I healed most of ya, yeah? I been around long enough to tap into the unknown tings. I got the impression, if not the whole.”
“What else do you know?”
Zahara shook her head. “Nothing more than that, chile. The woman was never heard of again, and I was … blocked from interacting much with the wolves after that.”
Pasquale remembered that before she’d been able to openly claim Dominic as her grandson—something hard to fathom when she looked so incredibly young—she’d had to hide it because of a spell she’d put on him to protect the two of them.
“But now your wolf isn’t afraid in the car anymore, and we’ve got a battle to face. Sort of pisses you off a bit more to know the Renegades have something only they can answer for you, doesn’t it?”
There was something deadly about Zahara. Her hazel eyes glittered with rage, and her smile was sharp. She’d shared the info because she’d wanted them prepared for war. She wanted them to join the ranks of vengeance with Romano and Dominic.
Pasquale had already been ready, for Heath alone. Now he had more reason.
Kieran had bitten off much more than he could chew.
Chapter Fifteen
They reached the Scorched Earth entrance en masse.
They may have been chomping at the bit to get inside, but politics still ruled. A Level-7 mage scanned the occupants of the cars with a neutral gaze, his face shadowed by the black hooded coat he wore. Glowing red runes lit up the skin of his hands as they danced around his fingers in a caressing weave.
Guardian.
Giuliana had only heard of the great mages stationed at Scorched Earth prepared to kill any trespassers. They protected the portal cities from threats. Curious humans may be allowed in so far to see the edges of the city—where the pretty homes and sparkling paranorms lived—to make them believe there wasn’t blood and war within. But if they caused any sort of commotion, they’d never be allowed to return home.
They’d been charged with their duty after the dragon had come into Encantado, blazing a trail of devastation. The runes on their skin locked them to their oath, keeping them on the edge of the city, always separate and yet needed.
