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Dane immediately hurried over to her side and wrapped an arm around her, gathering her close. It was strange and very terrifying. Of the three goddesses, Flo was the scary, tough one. Nothing ever seemed to bother the woman. She was the one who had the answers and faced things head on. No sugarcoating. It was unnerving to see something bothering her.
“Flo, I’m sorry, but are you sure he’s still alive?” Clay inquired, sounding as though he were trying to frame it as delicately as possible.
Sucking in a deep breath, Flo straightened against Dane and nodded. “Yes. We would have felt his soul being released with death. He’s still alive, and the pestilents have him.”
“So, then the pestilents have set a trap, and this guy’s the bait,” Lucien stated with a wave of one hand in front of him.
Calder turned in his seat at the island, looking in Lucien’s direction without actually meeting his gaze. “True, but we still have to rescue him. It’s not like we can leave him with the pestilents.”
“Agreed.” Lucien nodded.
“Without a doubt, but the problem still stands. If the aunts can’t locate this Weaver with their magic, how in the world are we supposed to find him?”
“Oh! I know! I’ve got a spell for this!” Wiley jumped up from his seat and rushed out of the room. His feet could be heard pounding through the various rooms on the first floor, shifting from carpet to hardwood. By the sound of it, he’d gone to the library, likely to grab one of his precious spell books.
“Do you know exactly where he was when he was grabbed?” Cort asked as they waited for Wiley’s return.
“Yes, his apartment. He’s been living in a suburb of St. Louis for the past few months.” She sighed and shook her head. “Willie has been trying to nudge him to get moving again, but the young ones are tricky to get moving. They’re easily distracted.”
Wiley returned more slowly, a large, leather-bound book cradled in his arms. He was carefully paging through it as he walked. Baer rose from his chair and took his lover by the shoulders, directing him carefully to his seat so he didn’t have to look up from what he was doing.
“Wait! Here it is…” Wiley said, though he didn’t glance up, making Lucien think that he was most likely talking to himself.
He leaned forward so he could see Wiley’s finger moving over what looked like a list. The words were all handwritten in a nearly illegible script. At least it was illegible when viewed upside down.
“Crap,” Wiley muttered.
“What? What’s wrong?” Baer demanded. He moved closer, reading over Wiley’s shoulder.
“I think I have all the ingredients for this, and it doesn’t seem too tricky. Nothing like that alarm spell we used a few months ago. But I need at least one personal item from my target and the spell needs to be cast from the person’s last-known location. Sort of like standing in his shoes or following his footsteps.” He snorted and shook his head. “Whoever wrote this was big on flowery language and imagery. But yeah, I can’t do the tracking spell from here.”
Baer looked up at Clay. “Then we’ve got to make a road trip to St. Louis.”
At that, the room exploded into chaos and noise as people volunteered to go while others argued what needed to be taken.
Lifting his hands above his head, Clay loudly whistled. The room collapsed into silence, and he lowered his hands again. The Earth Weaver turned his attention to the goddess. “Is there anything else you need to impart? Do you happen to have the Weaver’s name, address, or a key to his apartment?”
Flo reached into the pocket of her white capri pants and pulled out a little slip of paper. “His name is Hale Anderson. His address is on this paper. No spare key, but I’m sure Wiley can take care of the lock easy enough.” She placed it on the island and looked at Clay. “I need to check on Willie. Just be careful on your journey. The pestilents will be watching for you on the road and here.”
And then she was gone. No puff of smoke or flash. One second she was there and in the next, she was gone. Lucien blinked his eyes a couple of times to make sure that it wasn’t a trick. But no, she was gone.
“What’s the plan, big man?” Grey asked with his usual sardonic smirk.
“I’d prefer to take as few people as possible. I don’t want to draw the attention of the pestilents. This is a quick scouting mission,” Clay started. He folded his arms over his chest and frowned. “I’m thinking me, Baer, Dane, and Wiley.”
Dane’s eyes went wide and he placed his hand on Clay’s arm. Dane never went anywhere the pestilents could be found. Clay always kept his mate as far from the action as he possibly could. “Really? You want me along?”
