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My plan was tocreatea plan, but as I stared at the paper, I drew a blank. I had no idea what I was up against except that Azazel was a mighty fallen angel, he sat on the Upper Council, and that Council intended to get rid of me because I was a potential threat to them.
I had questions, so I began to write them down.
Why am I a threat to the Council?
I scratched that one off almost immediately. The answer was simple; I was stronger than a regular alpha, which meant I might threaten the power balance of whatever pack I was in. Plus, I was the result of my parents’ violation of the Upper Council’s self-serving, prejudiced rules.
Do I run? Or do I find a place to hide and wait them out?
I couldn’t outrun them. If they could hack into my email and track my devices, who knew what else they could do? However, I also couldn’t stay put for those exact same reasons.
I placed an ‘X’ next to the two questions.
Can I go home? Can I get help from anyone?
Returning to my family was out of the question. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to return to my apartment or Homer Pack, and I couldn’t focus on that now. Although Agnes’s offer to call her briefly crossed my mind, the last thing I wanted to do was put more people in danger. Which meant I was doing this solo.
Maybe I could wing it if I changed how I looked, found someone who could forge a new ID for me, and survive on a combination of running and hiding.
My heart began to race.Thatidea had merit. I’d eventually be able to leave America. Maybe moving to a different continent would slow them down for a few years.
The first hurdle was going to be changing my identity, because I needed money. Money that wasn’t linked to an accountheld by Aria Gribald. To get more money, I needed a job, and to get a job, I needed an ID. And I couldn’t use Aria Gribald’s ID, because…
I drew a line back to where I had Azazel Ambrose’s name scribbled in the corner of the paper, along which I wrote:limitless technological resources.
“Supernatural resources, too.”
Sariel’s voice made me jump. I banged my elbow into the coffee table as I turned to find him hovering over me. I had become so engrossed in my plan-making, I hadn’t even heard him come into the room.
He lifted a questioning brow at me, then gestured with his head toward the sheet of paper. “Azazel has bounty hunters at his disposal. Witches, vampires, fallen-blood wolves. He could amass a small army if he wanted to. His power doesn't stop at technology—it extends to the supernatural. With your blood in his possession, you will never be able to escape him.”
My heart gave a pathetic lurch as his scent filled the room, my wolf rolling onto her back and exposing her tummy, but then his words sunk in, and it plummeted.
“What?”
“With a witch on his side, he can track you using your blood,” Sariel explained. I abandoned the pencil on the table and held my head in my hands.
“So this is hopeless,” I whispered.
“Not quite,” he started. “If you had a witch onyourside, you could get yourself cloaked.”
“Where the fuck am I going to find a witch, Sariel?” I snapped.
He sat back in the chair, eyes flitting around the room. “I know a witch. Or two.”
“She’ll help me?” I asked skeptically.
“No,” he started, his lips twitching at my glare. “But she’ll helpme.”
I squinted. I didn’t like the implications of those words. I wasn’t a jealous person, had never been, but my wolf was; she was snarling at him in a way that made it difficult to hide my disgust.
“You want to take me to an ex?” I asked. “And you think she’ll help you?”
“Who said she was an ex?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at me.
I glared at him. “A fling, then. You want to take me to an ex-fling, and you think she’ll help me?”
“Why wouldn’t she?” he challenged.
