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The next morning I stared up at the rambling three-story house that had been my only home for the first six years of my life, and sucked in a deep breath, shivering in the twenty-two-degree morning.
I couldn't wait to see Aunt Heather and my cousin Rhiannon again. They were the only family I had, and they were good people. I knocked on the door and Rhiannon answered.
It had been nine years since I'd seen her, but my cousin looked the same--just a little older. Tall, willowy, with flaming red hair just like Aunt Heather's. But one look at her face told me something was wrong. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked like her head hadn't touched a pillow for a while.
"What's going on?"
She shook her head. "Heather disappeared."
Fuck. I was too late. "But I just talked to her a few days ago."
I leaned against one of the columns of the front porch as Rhiannon came out to join me. She was wrapped in an oversized fuzzy robe, and she stood, staring across the lawn at the wood, her eyes flickering like two amber cabochons.
"I came home from work yesterday and she was gone. Vanished. Like she'd never been here."
I winced. Heather had been more mother to me than my own mother.
"Did you call the cops?"
"For all the good it did. They won't file missing person reports for forty-eight hours, and they tried to convince me that she went on a trip and forgot to tell me." Rhiannon pressed her lips together so hard they turned white. "Heather left her purse and her keys in the house. Her car's in the driveway. She's out there, Cicely." She nodded toward the forest. "I know it."
I crossed my arms, shivering as I surveyed the ravine buttressing the edge of the vast lawn. Veil House--my aunt's home--was situated on a triple-sized lot at the end of Vyne Street, a half-empty cul-de-sac. The lawn bordered a thicket of trees, which rode the ravine down one side and up the other. A copse blended into a wooded glade. The wood was thick with firs and cedars, but a pall hung over the area like invisible smog and the air felt dusty, like in an abandoned house that had been closed off for too long.
A gust of wind slashed through me and I thought I heard a snarl.
Someone isn't happy you're back. Ulean whisked the air around me, stirring it up into a cloak that wrapped around my shoulders. You are in danger.
From what?
I don't know. The energy is hard to read, but this is the same sort of creature we sensed last night in the parking lot. It's deadly and it's powerful, and it's watching you.
Fuck, I thought as I pulled my leather jacket tighter. Danger, I could handle, if I knew what the danger was. Another gust came whipping by, sending a swirling haze of snowflakes up on the porch. Too cold--it was too cold even for December here. New Forest got snow, but not a lot and it never stayed long.
"I know it's cold out here, but is there any chance you can pick up on where she might be?" Rhiannon leaned against the opposite beam. "You were always a powerful witch, even when we were small. Can you read the wind for me?"
"Not really so powerful," I said, thinking about how much had slid by the wayside while I was on the road with Krystal. "But I'll try." I closed my eyes, focusing on the sharp-edged breeze that whistled past. Sometimes it was Ulean who spoke to me. Other times it was the wind itself.
Flutterings rode the breeze, scattered whispers and thoughts, the usual stuff. But behind the gusts and sudden drafts crept a shadow that made me uneasy. Some shadows are comforting and protective. Others steal the light. And this one sucked the warmth and life right out of the day.
I reached further, seeking Heather's energy--latching on to what I best remembered about her: the lavender and cinnamon scents that clung to her skin and clothing. As my energy stretched thin, seeking any clue, a whisper raced past. "They have her. They have her." And then it was gone again.
Rhiannon was right--something had snatched my aunt. And whatever it was, it was big and it was bad and it was out there, in the forest.
I opened my eyes and yawned, shaking off the sudden surge of energy.
"Let's get inside."
When we entered the house, the warmth hit me like a blast from a furnace and I peeled off my jacket and walked into the living room I remembered so well, drawing back the curtain to gaze out the window by my aunt's desk. The forest was a wonderland, covered in white, looking pristine and beautiful, but there was something dark there now, a shadow that hid under the sparkling cloak of snow.
"I only know that she's been abducted. Somebody has her, but I don't know who." I didn't want to ask the next question, but I had to. "Have you seen Grieve? He might know what's going on."
Just speaking his name made my heart ache. I missed him. But the last time I came home--nine years ago--he'd asked me to stay. I couldn't, and he turned distant and aloof. I'd left without saying good-bye.
Rhiannon wrapped her arm around my shoulder, pressing her cheek to mine. "No, he hasn't shown himself since you last went away."
That figured. I had the feeling he wouldn't, either, until I apologized. And even then, I might have blown my chance forever. Another fear I'd been running away from since my mother died. But now . . . my wolf whimpered and I gently rubbed my hand across my stomach, feeling the tattoo stir with worry. Grieve was out there, and he knew I was home.
"I have to go look for him. He might be able to help us."
