Page 7 of Crimson Moon Falling

She glanced at the shifters, then looked back at me. “Hello, Riley Blackthorne. You carry your father’s energy signature, like wind chimes in a hurricane.” She had a faint Slavic accent and a charming, if enigmatic, smile.

My breath caught when she mentioned my father, but before I could start asking questions, Freda stepped between us.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

The woman’s gaze remained locked on mine as she answered. “I am Zaria Novak, Viggo’s neighbor. I live down the road.” She gestured vaguely toward the east. “Viggo and I tolerate each other, and I am the one who reported him missing.”

Gunnar approached, his massive form dwarfing me. The cat arched its back slightly before settling back into a watchful crouch at Zaria’s feet.

“You know where Viggo is?” Gunnar’s voice rumbled like distant thunder.

Zaria raised her eyebrows. “If I did, you wouldn’t be trampling all over his property like lost cattle.” She tilted her head, studying me again.

“You knew my father?”

Her eyes drifted away, unseeing. “Yes. We knew each other before he disappeared. He was friends with Viggo.”

Gunnar nodded toward the cabin. “We need to look inside and see if we can pick up any clues.”

Zaria's black eyes cut to him. “Viggo would sooner shoot you than let you trample through his home.” The cat at her feet let out a chuff as Zaria turned back to me. “But he would probably allow Elijah Blackthorne’s daughter inside.”

She knew my father by name, not merely as a passing acquaintance or colleague of Viggo’s, but well enough to recognize his energy in me. Another thread emerged, linking my father to this place, to Viggo’s disappearance, and to this witch.

“How did you know we were coming?” I asked.

“Beau Harlon called.” She gestured toward Gunnar. “He said one is a troll and the other has a white streak of hair. You two are very distinctive, even more so together.” She glanced at Freda and Bennion. “He didn’t mention the wolves.”

Freda’s jaw tightened. “We’re the Alpha Mate’s bodyguards.”

Zaria turned back to me with a raised eyebrow. “An Alpha’s mate? You’re an interesting person, Riley Blackthorne. I can sense your Resonance and your bond, but it is faint. You have winter growing inside you. I can help you slow the spread.”

I tilted my head. “Where is your home country?”

“It has been called many names.”

“What kind of accent do you have? It’s Slavic, but I can’t quite place it.”

She inclined her head. “I am Slovenian. I will let you and Mr. Alfson inside to search through Viggo’s home, but do not disturb the wards or anger the tree.”

Bennion folded his arms. “Anger the tree? What the hell does that mean?”

Everyone ignored him, and Gunnar stared at Zaria. “Do you think Viggo’s still alive?”

Zaria’s gaze shifted to the cabin. “Viggo is resilient and clever, but there are strange forces in these mountains.” She turned back to study me.

The coldness inside me twisted, as if responding to her words. What had Dad been involved in, and what had he and Viggo been studying on those old maps all those years ago?

“Will you help us?”

Zaria’s lips curved. “I already am.” She turned toward the cabin, the massive cat padding silently beside her. Pulling an ancient-looking iron skeleton key from her pocket, she slipped it into a lock that hadn’t been there seconds before.

“Touch nothing without asking first. Viggo has safeguards.” I wondered what kind of “safeguards” a retired ranger needed in his home.

Freda followed us. “Bennion will stay outside and secure the perimeter.”

“No.” Zaria didn’t turn around. "Only the girl and the troll.”

Freda bristled. “I know who your great-great-babushka was, and I respect her line. But the Alpha Mate doesn’t go anywhere without me.”