AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“He will,” I promised her, thumping Denny on the back a little harder than needed.
We’d come all this way. We were working with our only lead. The path we walked right now was razor thin, and I’d be damned if Denny sent us tumbling over the edge.
Mr. Kerry would do whatever he was supposed to during this meeting. I’d make sure of it.
Yusra took us up in the elevator, then down a long hallway. The doors on either side of us were far more spaced out here than those of a normal hotel. The rooms behind them must have been massive. Suites for high rollers. Billionaires. Celebrities.
And one owl shifter cult leader who was standing between me and our best chance of getting Ryder back.
At the door, another massive bodyguard checked our IDs again. Denny stayed quiet as the guard studied them, which was probably for the best.
He was clearly in a black mood that was hard to contain. Was this how he’d felt back in Texas, when I was barely able to control my rage around Sarah and those cops?
Probably not. At least he’d understood why my temper was on a hair trigger. I had no idea what his problem was.
The Denny who’d charmed the Hogan County sheriff so quickly that we’d never even felt the embrace of a handcuff was long gone now. In his place stood a man who looked at every bodyguard like he wanted to spit in their face just for the sake of starting something.
The guard returned our IDs and nodded at Yusra. All seemed to be in order. She took our phones, then had the guard pat us down. Yusra really hadn’t been kidding about the flash photography. Whatever went on within Mama Striga’s suite, the woman seemed dead intent on keeping it a secret.
“Mama will you see you now,” Yusra informed us.
The guard opened the door, and Yusra ushered us inside.
I gave Denny a quick flash of my eyes before I crossed the threshold. A warning:Whatever’s going on with you, don’t fuck this up for us now.
Then I was through, with Denny slouching in right behind.
I didn’t know what I’d been expecting to see in Mama Striga’s suite. Ancient tapestries and incense burners, maybe. Crystals and candles. Dudes in hooded robes chanting in Latin. Some kind of ceremonial gong.
Instead, I found the suite to be no different from any other fancy hotel room. The earthy tones in the rugs and drapes gave it a homey feel, the art on the walls, a hint of luxury. Everything was perfectly inoffensive, clearly high-end but in the blandest way possible. It could have been anyone’s suite, anywhere in the world. It certainly didn’t look like anyone was living here, let alone long-term.
The singular oddity in the room was the woman.
She sat in a massive, high-backed armchair in front of the fireplace. Behind it, faux flames flickered in the hearth. She was a small woman to begin with, and the sheer size of her chair made her seem even smaller. Her facial features were just as delicate and doll-like as her body, all except for her large, round eyes, which appeared even larger thanks to the thick, round glasses perched atop her nose.
This had to be the famous—or infamous—Mama Striga. Much like her suite, she wasn’t what I’d expected. No shamanic robes. No psychic’s turban or wild mane of hair. She wore a tailored white suit, a silver bolo tie, and a ring on each finger. Her white hair was pulled back into a neat, elegant bun.
As we approached her, she lifted a small, wizened hand, bidding us to stop where we stood. Yusra had stressed obedience during this encounter so, obediently, we came to a halt.
Her gaze focused on Denny first.
“Dennis Kerry.” She spoke in an eastern European accent I couldn’t quite place. Her lips curled into a Cheshire Cat smile. “I told you you’d be back.”
I quirked an eyebrow at that. Back? And she knew him on sight as well.
He’d been here before. It would explain how he’d developed such strong opinions about this woman but not why. Had he brought some other client here before? Some member of his pack?
Denny kept his game face on, his expression impenetrable.
“Mama Striga.” Denny stepped forward and bowed stiffly. “I’m not here for me. This is my client—”
“Oh, I know exactly who he is. Alexander Miller.” Striga’s large eyes focused on me.
The tone of her voice suggested that her words were supposed to have some mysterious second meaning, but I couldn’t imagine what it might be. Plenty of people knew who I was now, especially within the shifter communities. It was inevitable. Just a few weeks ago, Felicity and I had been all over the national news, begging to have our sons returned to us.
I wondered if she was trying to imply that she knew something I didn’t, but that was exactly why we were here.
“Nice to meet you, ah…” I furrowed my brow. Was I supposed to call her Mama? That was a little too weird for my tastes. “Ma’am,” I finished, dipping into an awkward bow.
