Page 73 of Binding His Fated Mates

Lee blinked, and then, in the next instant, we were back in the clearing. The color had returned to the scene around us. And the acrid smell, almost like fireworks, was gone.

Everything was back to normal.

Except nothing was normal, was it? The Mara had apparently gotten past the pack and into the town. Or they were going to, at any moment.

And then they’d claim another victim—Jensen.

“Huh?” Lee asked, dazed.

“Where did this happen?” I demanded again. It occurred to me that I had no idea where Jensen lived. “C’mon, Lee!”

Lee blinked and then his eyes refocused. “Poplar and Second,” he said, meeting my gaze with a strange certainty. “The blue house with the chain-link fence. Third from the corner.”

“You’ve been there?” Daniel asked, staring at him.

“Not yet,” Lee replied grimly. “But I’m sure.”

Then the dream shattered.

* * *

I was wide awake and on my feet in an instant.

Lee tore out of bed as well, throwing on clothes, his expression grave. Daniel sat up, his dark eyes wide and terrified.

“That was real,” Daniel said, scrambling out of bed, too. “Like with Robert. And way more detailed. How did you know you could—”

“I just did. I realized I could look,” Lee replied, seeming unsettled. “I feel like I could look right now, if I wanted to.”

Daniel’s lips parted and his eyes widened. “It should be getting weaker.”

“Now isn’t the time. Get dressed,” I cut in. “Both of you. We need to go. We have to stop this.”

We threw clothes on and armed ourselves in under a minute. Two blessed iron blades from the kitchen table, one for Lee and one for me. Daniel grabbed his messenger bag—chalk, herbs, whatever he needed to cast on the fly.

Then we ran out the door and raced down the pathway to the gravel lot, piling into my pickup truck.

The moment we were on the road, Lee pulled out his phone, calling Reed. “Jensen Clark is going to be attacked. Right now.”

Reed said something through the phone that I didn’t catch, but I heard the alarm in his voice.

“Yeah. The sheriff’s deputy.” Lee paused, then added, “Poplar and Second. It’s the blue house, third from the corner. The Mara are either feeding on him now or they will be soon.” Another pause. Then, “Yeah, we’re on the road. Gather everyone. We’ve got our weapons.”

Lee hung up, his expression tense. “They’re coming.”

Getting from the commune to town was an eight-minute drive. We did it in five, with me behind the wheel, pushing the engine hard through the dark mountain roads until the trees gave way to buildings.

It was less than two hours before dawn, and the town was deserted as we sped down the street. In the darkness, it didn’t look idyllic at all. It looked like a scene from a nightmare.

Daniel sat between us, his hands already crackling with faint golden light, whispering under his breath, his expression set and focused, preparing spells. Lee sat on the passenger side, the blessed iron in his hands, grim and pale.

Poplar Street was quiet when we screeched to a stop. Streetlamps cast pools of amber light on empty sidewalks. The blue house—third from the corner, exactly where Lee said it would be—was dark except for a dim glow from the back bedroom. A nightlight, maybe. Or perhaps something more sinister.

As I put the car in park, we heard the gunshot.

Lee and I piled out, with Daniel right behind us. Lee handed me my weapon and then the three of us moved as one unit, fast and quiet. A light came on in the neighboring house—no doubt because of the gunshot—and Daniel immediately whispered a spell under his breath.

The air around us seemed to thicken, reflecting color in weird shimmering patterns, like an oil slick.