But Letitia moves faster than I could possibly imagine. Whipping her hand up, she tosses a handful of bright pink powder at my face. It hits and gets in my eyes, and before I can comprehend what’s happening, the floor rises up to meet my face.
Furyon
A flash of anger hits me square in the chest, knocking the breath from my lungs. I back against the side of my truck with a box of antihistamine vaccines in my hands.
Echo comes around the hood, dark brows bunched in apparent concern. “You good, buddy? You look pale all of a sudden.”
I hand her the vaccines and rub a hand over my chest. My tattoo of Lemon burns and aches, stretching sharp fingers through my skin like it’s trying to peel her right off me.
“Something’s wrong,” I gasp out, throwing my head back as I close my eyes and feel for her. There’s just absence, like someone ripped her out of my chest, and she’s fucking gone.
Lifting my comm watch, I direct it to call Lemon. I’m not surprised when she doesn’t answer.
“Those fucking assholes,” I mutter, yanking my truck door open and jamming my key in the ignition.
“Furyon, you’re not making any sense.” Echo leans on the doorframe and into the window. “What’s going on, and how can I help?”
“Lemon’s father and brother are in town.” I frown. “We had an altercation earlier, and now I can’t feel her.”
Echo’s brows rise. “You don’t think they took her outta the Gulch, do you? Like…forcefully?”
I cut the engine on. “She wouldn’t leave, not like this, not without a word. So I’m gonna find those assholes and figure out what the hell they did with my woman.”
Echo bends and grabs the box of vaccines. “Unless you need backup, I’m gonna keep distributing these. Although, I’m down if you need a big minotaur in your corner.”
Echo’s about as confrontational as a minotaur gets. She’d knock heads for me in a second.
I shake my head. “Naw. You keep doing this—this is important. I’ll be back as soon as I make sure the fucking dickheads didn’t kidnap my woman.”
She waves as I put the truck in reverse and peel out of the driveway. I’m back to downtown in minutes. I park the truck in front of Glimmer to check there first. It’s closed at this time of day, and, sure as shit, there’s no sign of anyone inside. Every light is off, the front desk organized with the chair pushed in.
I rub at my chest as the ache deepens.
Three pit hells run around the corner yipping and hollering, crowding me as I drop to a knee to give them each scratches.
“Hey, you three haven’t seen Lemon, have ya?” It’s never been proven that hellhounds fully understand monsters’ spoken languages, but I’ve seen enough in my years with them to be pretty sure they actually do understand most of it.
A sad whine is my answer.
They haven’t seen her.
Rising, I comm Oz and Bluebell, but they haven’t seen her either. I try Lemon one more time, but I know in my heart of hearts something is deadly wrong. Grimacing, I try Lemon’s father, who declines to answer. I try her brother next but get the same silent treatment. That or they’re no longer in Pine Gulch so my watch won’t work to reach them.
Desperation rising, I call the wraith property and ask if they checked out. The manager confirms they haven’t, so there’s that. But if they grabbed Lemon and took her, they’d likely move fast.
Bluebell’s name rises over my comm watch, and I answer.
“No Lemon to be seen, but her stupid family is here. Just got sat at a table, and they seem to be waiting for her.”
I run around the corner for Whiskey Business and yank the door open, looking for the vampires. They’re seated at the back looking mighty uncomfortable as a minotaur wails on the karaoke mike. Above, the bar’s flapping her roof panels in time with the singing.
After stalking through the busy bar, I drop into the free chair at their table.
Hunter shrinks from me, and the father glares. “That spot is for my daughter, and you are not welcome.”
“What’d you do with her?” I can’t find it in me to be remotely civil.
Her father has the grace to blanch. “I beg your pardon?”