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Before she could answer, Thorne’s startled cry pulled all of our attention.
“Bloody hell.”
“What’s wrong?” Sunday asked, taking a step toward him.
“It’s Moira. I’ve missed about ten calls and have nearly four times as many messages.”
“Is she okay?” Sunday’s voice was pitched high with concern.
I didn’t want to point out that with that many attempts to reach out, the odds weren’t looking good. Especially with the way our luck had been lately. Even if Moira was all right, someone we knew likely wasn’t.
“I’ve no clue.”
Dread sat like a stone in my gut as I left Sunday’s side and snagged my jeans off the floor. Pulling my phone from the pocket, I stared down at the multitude of notifications on the screen. I had just as many as Thorne. She’d been blowing up our group chat. Scrolling, I read the most recent ones, trying to bring myself up to speed.
Moira: Answer your phones, assholes.
Moira: HELLO??? Answer me! It’s urgent.
Moira: What the fuck are you doing? Okay, I have a pretty good idea what you’re doing, but this is an emergency!!!!!
Moira: Fine. Since none of you seem to care, I’ll just leave the message here.Iniquitywas attacked. Lilith is missing. The headmistress is dead. Oh, and according to Ash, that bitch hadn’t had a human soul in her body for a long ass time.
Moira: Something evil had been walking around in her skin pretending to be her for no one knows how long, and that is beyond scary as fuck.
Moira: I had another vision.
Moira: They’re not Horsemen. They’re HorseWOMEN.
Moira: And they’re coming for you.
ChapterThirty-Seven
SUNDAY
One thing had become terrifyingly clear. We knew absolutely fucking nothing. Knowledge is supposed to be power, but the more we learned, the less we knew. It was like we’d been given a box of puzzle pieces but no picture, no roadmap to show us how everything fit together. We were working blind here. Ikea furniture assembly would be less confusing.
It had been two days since Moira’s bombshell about the Horsemen being women and on the hunt for us. Two days since Kingston’s panic attack and revelations about people we cared for being targeted. Only two days since I’d gotten my men back just to have the rug ripped out from beneath us again.
Fuck.
My.
Life.
At least the sun was shining?Yeah, because being murdered during the day is so much kinder than in the shadows. You fucking idiot.
My constant protectors followed behind me as I took in the fresh air and slowly walked along the dirt road that led toward the bluff. I needed to move, to refocus on something other than... everything else.
Tightness built in my belly, that same breathtaking squeeze that had sent Kingston into his uncontrolled spiral. I didn’t know much about pregnancy, but I knew I was supposed to have nine months to be where I was right now. Even as a shifter. I was a little over six months pregnant. But anyone who looked at me would expect me to pop out this kid within days. Hours, maybe.
Pressure in my hips was near constant now. A sense of urgency I hadn’t expected raced through me as well. My body was preparing for the one moment Natalie said would end in my death. How was I supposed to wrap my head around that?
Denial. That’s how. I would keep shoving my head as deep in the sand as it would go and pretend that this was just a normal baby and things were going to be fine.
Yeah. I wasn’t buying it either, but it was the only thing keeping me from going the way of Kingston.
I just wish I’d had more time. More time to come to terms with this. More time with my mates. More time to adjust to the idea of being a mom. Or... not being a mom. Just more fucking time.
