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“I guess so,” Cheryl says. “This weather feels like a Dark Arts spell.”
“It’s definitely not natural,” Amanda agrees.
“Can you stop it?” I ask.
They look at each other. It’s not an encouraging exchange.
“Maybe with Rachel, we could. On our own, I don’t think so.”
“Damn.” I’m getting cold just looking at that downpour.
It’s also starting to turn the yard into a swamp.
“So, what’s the plan?” Noah asks, looking to his mate for the answer.
She’s the Alpha, so she’s the one in charge right now.
“We go in. Carter stays here to wait for Dante and Kelly.”
I let out a groan. “Really?”
“I’ll call Dante,” Amanda says, taking her phone out. “Let him know things have escalated. Hopefully they can get here sooner.”
Cheryl nods. “We’ll give it five minutes.”
Five minutes. Okay. I can deal with that.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Adrian
ThesecondIscenttrace Rachel I strip out of my shirt. I need to shift. I need to maul those two demonic assholes as soon as fucking possible. Every second counts. Silas would see that if he would trust his instincts more. I suppose being careful has its merits, too. He didn’t just lose ten years of his life actively participating in an illusion those bastards spun. I’m the one who did that.
I won’t let the same thing happen to Rachel.
Racing down the corridor, I shift forms, leaving the rest of my clothes and shoes to hit the floor with a dull thud. My wolf darts around a corner and growls loudly at the sight of Rachel holding the hand of a demon who has my face. He smirks back at me.
Rachel lets out a gasp, letting go of his hand, and pushing him into the wall.
She knows I’m her mate, not him.
The demon with Silas’ face grabs her by the arms and starts to drag her away.
I tear out my double’s throat before I lunge for Silas, aiming for his ankles and taking a boot to the jaw.
“You’re too late,” the demon tells me. “It’s time. You won’t escape.”
Rachel head-butts his chin and he rolls his eyes.
I scratch his leg and he lashes out with his leg again, this time missing me by an inch.
He’s dragging my mate down the corridor, toward a landing with a twisting staircase.
She’s fighting him, trying to escape his grasp enough to get turned around.
Her magic must not be working properly because she doesn’t try to spell.
He stops suddenly, and I realize she’s managed to lean away from his body and plant her feet on the floor firmly enough to stop him from moving.
