FATE OF THE ALPHA: EPISODE 3

A TARKER’S HOLLOW SERIAL

TASHA BLACK

13TH STORY PRESS

Contents

Copyright

Fate of the Alpha: Episode 3

Episode 3

1. Chapter 0

2. Chapter 1

3. Chapter 2

4. Chapter 3

5. Chapter 4

6. Chapter 5

7. Chapter 6

8. Chapter 7

9. Chapter 8

10. Chapter 9

11. Chapter 10

12. Chapter 11

13. Chapter 12

14. Chapter 13

15. Chapter 14

16. Chapter 15

17. Chapter 16

18. Chapter 17

19. Chapter 18

20. Chapter 19

21. Chapter 20

Afterword

Also by Tasha Black

Copyright © 2015 by 13th Story Press All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

First Edition: March 2015

13th Story Press PO Box 506 Swarthmore, PA 19081

13thStoryPress@gmail.com

Cover design 2014 by Cormar Covers

www.cormarcovers.com

FATE OF THE ALPHA: EPISODE 3

The Thrilling Conclusion to the Fate of the Alpha Story!

SOMETHING WICKED HAS COME to Tarker's Hollow...

Ainsley Connor wants to protect her pack from the ancient evil in Tarker's Hollow. With her magic and her wolf finally working together, she just might have a chance. But even if she does, the pack elders threaten to disband the Tarker's Hollow pack. 

Erik Jensen, torn from his place at Ainsley’s side by pack politics, finds himself at the center of a mystery that might just hold the key to saving Tarker’s Hollow. The real challenge might be surviving long enough to share his revelation. 

Grace Kwan-Cortez has finally accepted her feelings for Julian. But when she finds out he's been keeping secrets, her newfound bliss turns out to be short-lived. 

Julian Magie has a job to do. When he comes face-to-face with an ancient enemy, he must choose between duty and love. 

Episode 3

CHAPTER 0

A  low growl built in Ainsley’s throat as she set Camilla Parker Bowles down on the grass. What the hell were these two doing back at her house? And why was Charley carrying a shovel?

Camilla Parker Bowles made a bee-line to the rhododendrons in the flower bed.

Ainsley finally realized what the little dog had been trying to tell her all along.

The key.

Sadie had buried the key in Ainsley’s rhododendrons.

Ainsley knew every second counted. She needed to get the key before the warlocks did, or risk the whole future of Tarker’s Hollow.

Charley was already at the edge of the flower bed, bending over to see where the dog was digging.

She could blast him, but she didn’t dare use her magic in front of Ophelia.

Garrett began to murmur a familiar spell at Ophelia.

Ainsley had just enough time to protect her alpha.

Or to protect her pack.

CHAPTER 1

A insley summoned her magic with an evocation so powerful, she felt like a black hole trying to suck in the sun. She didn’t want to reveal her magic in the presence of a Federation alpha, especially one with the power to disband her pack for such a grievous act, but she was left with no choice. Before the light ball could fully form in her hands, the words slithered out of Garrett’s mouth.

“Subsisto lupo mutatis!”

Ainsley recognized the spell – the one that stopped wolves from shifting. Garret had aimed it directly at Ophelia.

She didn’t even try to dodge.

Could Ophelia’s reflexes really be so slow?

The alpha of alphas only gazed coldly at Garrett, her pale skin glowing in the moonlight and her dark eyes glittering with satisfaction.

The brilliant wave of red magic washed over Ophelia’s unmoving form, wrapping her in its malevolent embrace.

She gave a small shudder, like a dog shaking off a wet coat, and the magic rose off her in a hissing crimson fog.

Ainsley was riveted, trembling with amazement at her alpha’s mightiness.

Ophelia remained still, but her eyes flashed a deep amber, like honey on fire.

Garrett sucked in a breath and began to draw his form inward.

Ainsley clenched her fists. She had seen Garrett do this before. He would collapse into a covey of inky black birds and elude their grasp once more.

Ophelia crossed the front yard so quickly that even Ainsley’s own alpha senses could barely follow. When Ophelia reached Garrett, she clutched the warlock’s lapels in her long fingers and yanked the pulsing blur of birds back into a man shape.

No sooner did the shape have a mouth, than the lips began to move, forming another spell.

Ophelia lowered her gaze, then once again, pulled hard on his lapels, thrusting the crown of her head forward as she yanked him in.

Garrett’s jaw snapped with a loud crack of bone and teeth, and his spell dissolved into an inarticulate gurgle.

All of a sudden, the rich smell of overturned soil pulled Ainsley’s attention back to the rhododendrons.

To her horror, Charley dug frantically under the foliage. She couldn’t let him get to the key first.

Ainsley knew the price she would pay if she used her other gift. Wolves hated magic. There was no way Ophelia would let Ainsley remain alpha once her secret was out. But there was more at stake here than that. Ainsley gritted her teeth and pictured her high school self throwing the perfect softball pitch as she let loose the ball of energy that still hovered at the tips of her fingers.

The visualization trick Grace taught her worked like a charm. The blue sphere flew out of Ainsley’s hands, knocking Charley off his feet and sending him sprawling halfway across the front yard. He skidded to a stop when he hit the boxwood hedge.

Ainsley darted into the rhododendrons and began to dig with her hands in the spot Sadie’s dog, Camilla Parker Bowles, always seemed drawn to.

The rich black soil soon packed under her fingernails, slowing her progress. Her human hands just weren’t meant for this type of work, but she couldn’t risk shifting, she might need her magic again.

Ainsley continued to scrape futilely at the hard packed earth. As she dug, she imagined the effectiveness of her wide, strong wolf paws. To her amazement, her hands began to sprout silky red fur. She continued her work as they melted into the powerful claws of her wolf, while the rest of her held onto her human form.

That was a new trick. She’d never seen anyone partially shift before. Was it some sort of alpha ability? Being a wolf really needed its own instruction manual.

Ainsley dug furiously, chunks of loose dirt spraying in all directions, until her paws scraped against something cold and hard.

Working as carefully as she could without slowing down, Ainsley uncovered what turned out to be a metal lunch box. She allowed her furry, dirt-caked paws to slip back into human hands and lifted the box from the hole.

For an instant she was dragged back to the memory of another buried lunchbox. When they were kids, she and Erik had dug a big hole under the sycamore and stuck a metal lunchbox in it as a time capsule. They’d filled it with drawings and cool stuff they’d found in the woods.

Her chest tightened as she thought of Erik. Her mate was gone, sent off on Federation business. And it was looking more and more likely that he wasn’t coming back.

Ainsley shook herself out of the dangerous grip of the past and spun around to check on Charley.

He was still out cold.

Her gaze returned to the metal box that rested in her dirty hands, humming with energy. She found herself fiddling with the latch before she had actually decided to open it.

A flash in her periphery brought her attention to Garrett.

He was unsheathing his sword from his cane.

Ophelia wouldn’t know about the silver.

Before Ainsley could warn her, the sword sliced through the air toward Ophelia’s head.

As the arc of the swing reached her, Ophelia’s head vanished.

Ainsley’s first thought was magic, but then she realized the alpha had shifted down into her wolf form, just in time to avoid the slice of Garrett’s sword.

Ophelia’s wolf teeth flashed white, and then the sword clattered to the ground.

Garrett moaned in agony through his mangled jaw.

His right hand was gone — bitten clean off.

Garrett clutched at the bleeding stump of his wrist as he slumped to the ground.

The moment the threat to her alpha was gone, Ainsley’s attention snapped back to the box. With shaking fingers, she managed to open the clasp.

A shard of midnight black crystal rested inside.

The key. Not what she expected it to look like.

It called to her.

Against her better judgment, Ainsley reached out a tentative finger to touch it. The smooth surface felt almost oily. Without warning, the blackness began to grow—

Or maybe she began to shrink?

—as first her finger, then her whole hand passed into the crystal, pulling the rest of her body behind it until the whole world was nothing but blackness.

She fell further still, into the creature below the Field House.

Into the moroi.

Immediately, its hunger overwhelmed her, turning her inside-out with emptiness. Her very soul ached with dry need.

Above her, in Tarker’s Hollow, she could feel the energy, the life force of the creatures stirring. She knew without asking that their energy would fill the void. Each creature floated like a helium balloon with a ribbon trailing down into the void. She traced the ribbons upward with ravenous desire, hunting for their light.

Some of the people flickered like birthday candles. But emotion made others brighter. A college student swooned over a boy and her light glowed seductively. MacGregor’s light burned orange in anguish. Ainsley wondered briefly if he was still humiliated from her snub the night of the full moon.

But she hardly had time to spare for him when she felt the throbbing brilliance of a truly radiant light. Julian. Was it his magic? Yes, she knew it was.

And Grace. Her Grace. How she shone, like the sun, eclipsing all the light around her. A meal like that would fill the void. Ainsley almost couldn’t look.

She followed more strings until she saw herself, glowing with power and passion. And Ophelia, and Garrett, and ...

Where was Charley?

Charley.

Ainsley managed to rip her finger off the key and slam the lid down on the lunchbox, snapping herself back to the reality of the battle scene that was her front lawn.

But it was too late.

Charley was gone.

CHAPTER 2

Erik stood in the parking lot of the Copper Creek Community Library. There were no cars except his truck and the gray station wagon he assumed must be Bonnie’s. Good. He was hoping to talk to the librarian alone.

Cold air whipped his jacket as he headed to the door. The valley acted like a tunnel. The mountains sheltered the worst of the wind, but when it hit at just the right angle, the valley magnified the force until you felt like you might blow away.

The door opened to reveal the cozy interior of the library, with its polished wooden floors and musty, old book smell. He didn’t see Bonnie but he could hear her humming softly as she puttered around in the stacks.

“Hey, Erik!” she called from behind one of the shelves. Has she heard him, smelled him? How he missed having the heightened senses of a wolf.

“Hi, Bonnie,” he replied.

She emerged from the stacks and smiled at him, her green eyes twinkling. She wore a long brown skirt and a green sweater that clung to her womanly figure and reminded him, as almost everything did, of his Ainsley.

“I found something,” he told her, looking at the books in his hands instead of ogling her curves.

“Oh, wow, you found them.” she said. “Nice work.”

Erik looked around, even though he knew they were alone. The library was silent except for the ticking of the big wall clock.

“I found something else too,” he told her, as he flipped through the pages of Native American Symbols and Meanings to find the drawings.

“What did you find?” Bonnie asked.

She moved a little too close to him. She smelled like soap and flowers.

Erik held the book open for her mutely, showing her the strange symbols Jake Miller had scrawled in its margins.

“Wow.” She let out an appreciative whistle. “What do you think that’s about?”

Her voice was pitched higher than usual. He figured she must be shocked at Jake’s behavior.

“I was hoping you might know. Have you ever seen anything like this before?” he asked.

She shrugged and shook her head.

Again, Erik had the feeling she was unnerved. But, why?

She bent her head again to study the symbols and he watched the overhead light reflect in the shining waves of her hair.

After a moment, she seemed to sense that he was studying her and she looked up and barked out a short little laugh.

“I’ll do some research, okay Erik?” she asked him, putting her hand on his upper arm lightly.

“Sure, but I want to hang onto the books a while longer,” he said, suddenly suspicious, though he couldn’t say why.

“No problem,” she answered, removed her hand from his arm to pull a cell phone out of the pocket of her skirt.

While he watched, she took a picture of the open page.

“There! Now I can look it up and you can read the book,” she smiled up at him.

The smile went all the way to her emerald green eyes this time, and he suddenly felt silly for worrying about her.

“Is there anyone in the pack who might know what this means? Anyone Jake might have shared this with?” he asked.

“All the high ranking males were in the mine,” Bonnie said, her smile gone.

“Oh,” Erik said, wishing he were a real psychologist. He couldn’t pull his Dr. Phil stuff on Bonnie.

“Wait!” she exclaimed, grabbing his bicep again.

Erik fought the instinct to flex, as he would have done to delight Ainsley, who loved his muscles.

“What is it?”

“There is someone,” Bonnie said. “Teresa Simkins, she’s the oldest member of the pack. Jake was close with her.”

“That’s great. Where is she?” Erik asked.

“She’s got a place by the river,” Bonnie said. “But, Erik, I have to tell you, she’s not all there anymore. Jake worried about her a lot. He tried to get her to live in town, but she insisted on keeping her place — even though she’s half-blind now. He used to visit her every Sunday, to check on her.”

“Do you think he would have said something to her?” Erik asked doubtfully.

“He might,” Bonnie said, biting her lip. “Teresa is... special. And of course she knows more pack history than anyone. On her good days.”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday, I’ll go talk to her then,” Erik said.

He wanted to go now. But they were sending a camera down into the mine today. So he needed to be on hand in case anything went wrong.

He wondered what the Federation would expect him to do if the camera showed wolves in the hole instead of men.

CHAPTER 3

Before Ainsley could fret over having let Charley slip away, she felt the tug of her pack, rushing to her aid. Her skin prickled at their widening green rays of submission.

Cressida rounded the hedge and came at Ainsley so fast she nearly crashed into her. Javier was hot on her heels.

“What’s going on?” Cressida hissed. She was already pulling off her hoodie to shift.

“Someone needs to get Volker,” Ainsley said, touching Cressida’s arm to stay her.

Cressida’s attention moved to the porch, where Ophelia stood over Garrett’s prone body.

“I’ll get Volker, my alpha,” Javier said quickly.

Ainsley wasn’t sure if he wanted to impress her or to escape Ophelia.

“Thank you, Javier,” she said.

He started to move, then paused.

“Which one is Volker?” he asked.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Cressida rolled her eyes, then turned to Ainsley. “Are you okay?”

Ainsley nodded.

“Come on then, I’ll show you where Volker lives,” Cressida said over her shoulder to Javier.

She had already turned the corner before he caught on and jogged after her.

Ainsley joined Ophelia on the porch to examine Garrett.

He was passed out on the wood floor, his face pale and slack. Ophelia had tied the belt from her leather jacket around his arm in a makeshift tourniquet, but blood was oozing and pulsing from the stump anyway.

“So when were you planning to tell me about this?” Ophelia asked, one eyebrow raised.

The sound of feet pounding down the sidewalk toward the house saved Ainsley from answering. It wasn’t wolves.

“Ainsley!” Grace gasped, rounding the hedge.

Julian was right behind her.

“Charley got away,” Ainsley said grimly.

“The key?” Julian asked.

Ainsley lifted up the lunchbox in reply.

“You found it,” he whispered.

Grace had spotted Garrett and was already hunched over him.

“He’s going to bleed out. Get me a stick,” she said.

“No need,” Julian replied.

He muttered a spell and the wound glowed with a blue flame. The magical fire sizzled and the scent of charred flesh filled the air, but the bleeding stopped.

Garrett moaned softly, but didn’t wake up.

Footsteps announced the arrival of Volker with Cressida and Javier.

“That was fast,” Ainsley said with relief.

“I was already on my way, my alpha,” Volker said in a somewhat offended voice. “You called for me.”

Of course she had. She hadn’t even realized it. She was just so new to this. And that point was being driven home to Ophelia, of course.

“Thank you, Volker,” she said with a chilly smile.

Just because he was right didn’t mean he could speak to her that way. She’d deal with that later.

“He needs to go to a hospital,” Grace said.

Volker had already made his way up the steps and knelt on the front porch, examining the prone warlock.

“He’ll be fine,” he said.

“Really?” Grace asked.

“Well, he won’t play the piano again,” Volker chuckled.

Grace sniffed.

“I can give him something for the pain,” Volker offered.

“No,” Ainsley replied immediately.

Ophelia had been standing in the shadows of the porch watching the scene unfold with pursed lips. But she smiled at Ainsley’s answer and nodded her approval.

Ainsley’s chest filled with a warm glow.

“We need him lucid,” Ainsley explained. “He has some questions to answer.”

She left out the part about wanting to see Garrett suffer after the havoc he had wrought. A tiny voice in her head reminded her that the old Ainsley would have been horrified.

“No, Ainsley, I have to bring him in. I’m sorry, but there’s no way to sweep this under the rug,” Grace said.

“A cell is not going to hold this guy, you’ve seen what he can do,” Ainsley said.

“Ainsley, it would be highly unlikely for this man to work any magic in the condition he’s in,” Julian interjected. “He can’t manage the somatic components.”

Ainsley raised an eyebrow at him. Inwardly she was also ready to strangle him for making her look a fool in front of Ophelia. Bad enough she was a wolf who did magic, now Ophelia would know she didn’t know anything about magic either.

“Sorry, the somatic components are the complex wording and gestures. Not everyone is gifted enough just to think of a magical effect and have it come to be,” Julian explained, giving Grace a significant look.

Grace turned away from him and leaned forward to take Garrett’s pulse. Ainsley could tell by the stiff set of her best friend’s shoulders that she wasn’t pleased.

Interesting. Grace must still be mad at Julian for not telling them the truth about his reason for being in Tarker’s Hollow. Which meant that she cared.

“In any case, if I can have access to the cell for a few minutes, I can put some wards in place to block magic, and also to warn us of any attempt to escape,” Julian finished.

“Fine,” Ainsley nodded.

Grace bent to slip an arm under Garrett’s shoulder. Julian quickly moved to join her.

“Wait,” Ainsley said. “Julian, when I touched the key, I was... inside the creature’s head. There is nothing there but insatiable hunger and incredible power. It’s not like a vampire in the movies. It doesn’t want blood, does it?”

Julian winced and stood.

“No,” Julian replied. “The common myths were most likely based on stories of the moroi and its ilk. But they tend to romanticize it a bit, and get most of the details wrong.”

“But they do feed on us. On our spirit? Our life force?” Ainsley pressed.

Julian nodded slowly.

“And the more passionate and powerful someone is, the more irresistible they are to this thing?” Ainsley asked, glancing at Grace.

Julian nodded again with sad eyes. He knew it too. Ainsley could tell. Grace was in danger.

“The key acting as a conduit wouldn’t be unheard of,” Julian explained. “It is a powerful artifact in its own right. It is used to seal the creature not just physically behind a layer of stone, but also to bind it to a sort of pocket dimension. It cuts off our mundane world from the world that holds the last of the moroi, among other things.”

Ainsley shuddered at the thought of what other things this key was keeping at bay.

“It is a realm of powerful magic,” Julian continued. “The sites where the creatures are imprisoned were chosen because they are the places where the barrier between worlds is thinnest, and most easily manipulated. When the gates were sealed, most of the magic left this world. Only a chosen few are still able to draw from that well.”

Julian paused to gaze at Grace once more. She didn’t seem to notice.

“If the seal is broken, the moroi will come through, trailing that ancient magic behind it. And if it escapes Tarker’s Hollow, its first order of business will be to free as many of its brothers as it can,” he finished.

“That would be very bad,” Ainsley said.

“At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, the entire world would be irrevocably changed,” Julian replied.

“I don’t think you’re exaggerating. And I understand now. Why you didn’t tell us sooner. Because nobody is ready for it,” Ainsley said.

Julian nodded again.

“Okay, go ahead, keep me posted,” Ainsley said at last, gesturing them toward the police car.

Grace slipped an arm under Garrett’s shoulder and Julian bent to slip his arm under the other. They carried him down the steps together.

“Volker, is it?” Ophelia asked in a velvety voice.

Thad Volker spun around to Ophelia and nodded, his blue eyes sparkling through his glasses.

“I’m sure you have other business to attend, Volker,” Ophelia said crisply.

He stood in place for an extra second, then seemed to shake himself out of it.

“Yes, thank you Councilman Winter,” he said, and made a quick escape.

“Cressida, Javier,” Ophelia said. “I need a few words with your alpha.”

They scrambled down the porch steps and out into the night.

“Ainsley,” Ophelia called to her once they were alone.

Ainsley could have waited, and forced Ophelia to drag her over with her alpha power. But the idea of it was humiliating. So she went to meet her doom of her own volition.

“Sit,” Ophelia gestured to the wicker sofa.

Ainsley sat, and tried not to wonder what had happened to Garret’s hand after it was ripped off. The smell of his congealing blood on the painted boards of the porch floor made her feel both queasy and invigorated.

Ophelia paced the length of the porch and back once, then turned to Ainsley and leaned back, resting her buttocks against the porch railing.

“Ainsley Connor. You’re a good alpha. As a matter of fact, you have all the makings of a great alpha. You’re strong, you’re fierce,” Ophelia paused until Ainsley met her eyes, then continued.

“But you’ve brought trouble to this town from the day you took ownership of the pack. First, you get yourself shot, by a silver bullet, no less. And you manage to drive off a promising young male in the process.”

Ainsley wasn’t sure she would have called Clive Warren promising, per se, more like a psycho fuckwit who wanted to rape and kill her to take over the pack. But he was strong. And who told Ophelia about the silver bullet? Ainsley flushed with embarrassment as Ophelia continued.

“Then there is this business.” She gestured to Ainsley’s mangled front lawn. “There are those on the council that consider your magic a strength, and in time, it might be. But right now your magic seems to have attracted more trouble than it has repelled. And you can barely handle it.”

Ainsley dropped her eyes. So the council had been aware all along. She must have looked like a fool. Ophelia was right, of course, she was only saying what Ainsley had already known.

At least there was a ray of hope. Ophelia would teach her. That’s what she was here for. The thought of having a strong alpha to mentor her comforted Ainsley. As a matter of fact, she felt better than she had in a long time because at last someone was willing to level with her.

“I’m afraid I can’t recommend to the Federation that we allow you to continue as alpha,” Ophelia said in a calm clear voice.

“What?!” The words hit Ainsley like a physical blow. She knew she needed to keep her cool, but she wasn’t sure if she could. Her pack, her family, they were her responsibility. She couldn’t abandon them. Ophelia knew that.

“I stand by my assessment that you have all the makings of a great alpha, Ainsley Connor” Ophelia explained. “But you’re not ready. You’ll come with me and serve the Federation for a time. You can learn about your heritage, and you can even study magic if you wish.”

“But the pack—” Ainsley began.

“—will be assigned new leadership by the Federation. Don’t worry, we would never allow an ancient pack like Tarker’s Hollow to go unattended.”

“Erik was right,” Ainsley breathed.

“Erik!” Ophelia barked out a sharp laugh, like ice cubes clinking a glass. “Last time I checked, being a wolf was still a requirement for membership in this pack. A fact that seems to have escaped you, and one more reason I know you need training more than you need power.”

“You knew,” Ainsley breathed.

“Of course I knew,” Ophelia replied. “I knew about Erik, about the magic, even about your little trip to get Sadie from the hospital. You didn’t actually think you could keep anything from me, did you?”

Ainsley called on all the hours of meditation she ought to have done, and held it together. The idea of giving up the pack was unthinkable.

“Ainsley,” Ophelia said in a softer voice. “I want you to know that I think the world of you. This will be best for everyone in the long run, you’ll see.”

A sense of warmth blossomed inside Ainsley at the alpha’s kind words. Maybe it was for the best.

“Can we stay long enough to be sure the gateway is fully sealed?” Ainsley heard herself ask in a child’s voice.

“Of course,” Ophelia replied. “We wouldn’t leave without knowing the pack is safe.”

Ainsley nodded, and tried to take some comfort in knowing that whatever they were up against, Ophelia was on their side.

CHAPTER 4

C hapter 4 (Erik at the mine)

Erik stashed the books in the console of his truck, then entered the site.

The excavation equipment they’d been using yesterday was sitting idle. He passed a vehicle that looked like one of his own front end loaders with an extension like a giant circular saw on the front of it. His guys would love to run something like that.

The blue mountains rose majestically all around the site, making the huge metal winding towers and gravelly ground look all the more unnatural. It was an odd juxtaposition of man and nature. Erik wondered if he would ever get used to it.

A middle aged man approached him. His sandy hair peeked out from under a hard hat

“Can I help you?” the man asked.

“I’m Erik Jensen. I’m here to observe the camera scoping of the mine today.”

“Ah, the psychologist. Royce Fletcher, I’m in charge of this operation. Pleasure to meet you,” Royce extended his hand.

“Good to meet you, Royce,” Erik replied.

They shook hands and Erik noted that Royce’s hand was smooth and soft. Pencil pusher.

“C’mon, we’re about to get started.” Royce gestured toward a plain white trailer with neatly tied bundles of wires feeding in and out of it.

Erik tried not to think about the fact that though the wire could be fed into the mine, the men couldn’t be brought out.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light of the trailer. When they did, he saw a huge site map on the wall. Below it was a large monitor and a console littered in energy drinks. A young black man fiddled with the settings on the monitor.

“Dr. Jensen, this is Grant Woods. Grant is running the set-up for the fiber optic camera we’re sending down into the mine today,” Royce said.

“Hi, Grant, nice to meet you,” Erik said politely.

“Hey, Dr. Jensen,” Grant replied. “We’re just about set here.”

As he spoke, the static on the screen tightened into columns, then cleared to reveal a grainy night vision video. A circle of light bounced off the walls of what Erik knew must be the mine.

He glanced up at the map again. Three channels branched off the main shaft. One had been crossed off.

“So that’s the one?” he asked, pointing at the shaft that was blocked out.

“No, that branch was closed up years ago, it’s the one just below it,” Grant answered, sliding his finger across an iPad to adjust a control.

“So why aren’t they using the old one to access the collapsed shaft?” Erik asked.

“Hmm,” Royce grunted.

“The old shaft had to be closed because of a methane gas build-up,” Grant explained.

“They’re damned lucky they didn’t set the whole mine on fire with this accident,” Royce said.

“The second branch shouldn’t have gone right below it,” Grant agreed.

“So why did they put it there?” Erik asked.

“Who knows? It’s a small operation,” Royce said not without a touch of sarcasm.

“They’re not really using modern technology or practices here. It’s more common than you would think in these small towns. And we see corners cut everywhere to save a buck. But what they were doing here just doesn’t make sense — for safety or productivity,” Grant explained.

“What do you mean?” Erik asked.

“Well, take the collapsed branch. They shouldn’t have tunneled there in the first place. And they were working on a perfectly good vein off this one over here,” Royce pointed to the third branch, which led in the opposite direction of the other two.

Erik nodded.

“So why did they come back and tunnel under this area when they knew they’d be in danger of hitting methane?” Royce asked.

The three of them stared silently at the map.

A sudden flash drew their attention back to the screen. The camera had hit rubble. The view jumped around as Grant tried to find a small opening to feed the camera through.

After a few minutes, the camera began to make progress again. The tight view on the screen opened wide.

“Oh, wow,” Grant said.

“They must’ve broke through into a cavern,” Royce murmured.

The greenish light of the camera bounced off the cavern walls, illuminating the scene. As the camera continued its descent, Erik caught a glimpse of something familiar.

A symbol.

From the margins of the book — two arrows pointing at each other.

What the hell?

He glanced up at Royce and Grant, but neither of the men seemed to have noticed. He turned his attention back to the screen.

Slowly, the camera continued to sink into the cavern until the area widened enough that the walls were no longer visible on the screen.

That’s when they spotted the first body.

In spite of the grainy green image, Erik knew instantly that the man couldn’t be alive.

He looked young. His light eyes reflected the green of the camera, unblinking. He had been thrown over a jagged boulder like a rag doll, arms hanging limply by his sides, legs turned inward at an unnatural angle. Erik was reminded nonsensically of Icarus, dashed to the rocks.

Royce sucked in air and Grant shook his head and made a note on his iPad.

The camera continued its journey past the boy on the rocks. More bodies came into view, lots of them. Erik noted with revulsion that more than one of them was missing it’s head.

“What the hell?” Royce asked.

“Where’s the blood?” Grant breathed.

He was right. There was no blood anywhere. And when he looked more closely at the bodies they seemed more than dead, they were almost like hollow shells, drained dry.

The camera moved on, mercilessly.

And Erik saw it at last.

On the wall was a symbol, a gigantic symbol. Not exactly the same as the one that took his wolf, but too close to be a coincidence. Just like the one from the book.

A large crack in the stone ran down the center, leaving a gaping hole in the symbol.

As they watched, something pulsed inside it.

“What the hell was that?” Grant asked.

“Are you recording this?” Royce asked. “Nobody is going to believe it.”

“It’s all on the hard drive.” Grant replied without taking his eyes from the screen. “We can upload it later when we hook up to the satellite uplink. This hick town doesn’t have wifi.”

Slowly, the camera descended toward the opening in the wall.

Erik had no idea what lay inside, but he was damned sure these two weren’t ready to see it.

He looked around for a way to stop the proceedings. Could he just pull the plug?

They’d just plug in and continue. Everything would still be there. No good.

He scanned the cluttered workspace.

Bingo.

As surreptitiously as he could, he leaned in as though to look more closely at the screen, and tipped one of the energy drinks onto the console.

An electronic hiss sounded from the machines innards, followed by a sickly whine, then the monitor went black.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Grant squeaked.

“I’m so sorry!” Erik said, suppressing a satisfied smile.

The metallic tang of ozone hung heavy in the air. The thing was fried. He had done more damage than he’d hoped.

“Jesus jumping Christ, man!” Royce yelled, “I keep telling you not to keep your damned Cokes near the equipment!”

“They’re not Cokes—”Grant started.

“No!” Royce cut him off. “Don’t start that again! You’re like a fucking kid with an Xbox and your little snacks. These machines are expensive, they’re fucking scientific!”

“Again, so sorry,” Erik said, as he backed to the door of the trailer. “I’m going to get out of the way.”

Grant and Royce were going at each other too hard to notice him.

“You don’t even know how this shit works!” Grant shouted as Erik stepped out into the sunlight and pulled the door shut behind him.

He had no idea how long it would take them to get the equipment up and running again. But he knew he needed to figure out what was going on before they did.

CHAPTER 5

J ulian found himself minding an unconscious passenger in the backseat of Grace’s car for the second time in a week. He looked around, hoping no one would wander by and see the prone man in the back, while she went into the station to make sure their way was clear.

But Tarker’s Hollow’s small downtown seemed to be empty. The light over the police station door reflected in the wet leaves on the parking lot, as the saplings that had recently been planted in front of the library swayed in the wind.

After a few minutes, a young male officer exited the front door and pulled out of the parking lot in a gray sedan. Julian counted silently to sixty and the door to the police station opened again. Grace stood silhouetted in the doorway for a moment, scanning the lot, then she strode toward him, her small body drawn up as though she were trying to look two feet taller.

He hopped out of the car to join her. Without speaking, they eased Garrett out of the backseat and carried him quickly into the station.

Julian hadn’t been inside Grace’s place of work before. It was smaller than he had expected. A bulletin board behind the large front desk announced three missing cats, a missing bicycle and a found pair of mittens. Also pinned to the board were instructions on CPR and a public service announcement about storm water run-off.

Not so much as a single wanted poster. How disappointing.

Grace slipped a key out of her pocket and opened the door that separated the lobby from the station proper. They brought Garrett around a reception desk covered in Halloween themed knick-knacks, past small conference room, to an area with two holding cells in the back.

Grace indicated with a nod of her head that they should lay Garrett on the floor. Julian was inclined to let him drop hard, but Grace was careful to support his head and neck. Good thing one of them was a professional. Julian was still seeing red.

He stood and wiped his hands on his thighs. He supposed it was silly but he felt dirty just touching the bastard.

Grace straightened and gave him an expectant look. Her tiny body somehow looked more feminine in the uniform than in her civilian clothes. Julian marveled at the way her slender hips seemed to swell against the masculine cut of the trousers.

Grace cleared her throat and he remembered why they were there.

“The wards I’m going to put on this cell will mean no one can make magic in it, not even you.” He turned to catch her eye to be sure she understood.

She nodded once and pursed her lips.

He got to work immediately, murmuring locking spells and tamping enchantments. He began in the deepest corner of the cell and worked his way toward the gate.

“When you do this sort of thing, you never want to mop yourself into a corner,” he joked.

Grace didn’t reply.

Of course, she was still angry at him. And making a lame joke wasn’t going to change her mind. He hadn’t been honest with her about why he was in Tarker’s Hollow to begin with. Maybe she would never forgive him. He probably deserved it.

At last, his work was done. He turned to find Grace staring at him.

He tried to smile, but she turned her back.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Sure,” he replied.

Wordlessly, they pulled Garrett off the ground and moved him into the cell.

The moment they entered, Julian felt the cold loss of that vague tingle of magic that always danced just below the surface of his skin. It was an awful, flat feeling and he had to force himself to take his time depositing Garrett on the cot instead of running out of the cell as fast as he could.

When the door was secure, Grace turned to him.

“It really worked,” she said.

“Yes,” he said. “Could you feel it?”

She nodded.

“Listen, Grace, I...” He found himself at a loss. This young woman didn’t want to hear what he had to say. And perhaps it was best that his infatuation with her came to an end.

She turned to face him and he sensed something in her dark eyes.

Hope filled his heart and loosened his tongue.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you, Grace,” he admitted. “I haven’t had anyone to be honest with in a century. I was afraid I might have forgotten how.”

He wanted to explain everything, but he forced himself to stop speaking, to listen.

“Have you really been alive for a hundred years?” she asked without making eye contact.

“I was barely out of my teens when I was recruited by the Order in 1892,” he replied. “So, I suppose it’s actually closer to 150. But I stopped counting once the candles no longer fit on the cake.”

“What’s it like?” she asked.

“Going from the telegraph to the iPhone? Not as crazy as the movies make it out to be. It’s not like I was frozen for a century and woke up to a brave new world. I adjusted to the changes gradually, just like everyone else.”

“To hear my abuela talk about the old days,” Grace replied, “I think you may be understating things a bit.”

“Living longer than the accepted norm isn’t all its cracked up to be,” he told her. “I’ve been basically transient. When everyone around you grows old and you don’t, they start asking uncomfortable questions.”

“Hmm,” Grace mused. “I never thought about that.”

“Most people wouldn’t,” he said. “Nor about the fact that eventually, you simply stop trying to form relationships, because they all end the same way.”

“Oh,” she said with a look of sad understanding.

Suddenly, the hopelessness of it all didn’t matter to Julian. The flicker of compassion in her eyes was all it took for him throw caution to the wind.

“Which is why,” he said, “after all these years, it is so shocking to feel this way about you.”

“Stop,” she said, looking away.

“I’m serious. You know I am,” he said, trying desperately not to take her chin in his hand and turn her to face him again. If he could just see that warmth in her eyes one more time...

“What are you?” she asked softly.

“Does it really matter?” he asked, praying that he didn’t have to tell her anything more tonight.

She paused, and he watched her pulse thrum in the hollow of her neck. Then she slowly shook her head and turned to face him.

Her open expression took his breath away.

He lost himself instantly in the depths of those coffee brown eyes. Under her gaze, he was his best self, strong and smart and interesting. He hadn’t felt so alive in a hundred years.

Before they could change their minds, he scooped her up in his arms and strode out of the room.

Grace wrapped her arms around his neck instinctively in a warm embrace. He felt cradled and treasured in the circle of her grasp.

She hadn’t done any magic, but he could feel the need pulsing off her in waves. His own body responded instantly.

The hallway outside the holding cell area led back out to reception. He just had to make it out to the car and a few blocks to her apartment. They could do it.

Then Grace leaned forward to nuzzle his neck. She sighed and her tongue darted out to caress the place where his collar opened.

Fuck.

He turned into the conference room and closed the door behind them. Belatedly, he read the sign over the doorway, Interrogation Room.

So be it.

He set her on the ground. She tottered, finding her balance, and his heart raced knowing she was dizzy with need for him.

He inhaled slowly and rubbed his hands up and down her arms, trying to keep control.

When she looked up at him again with those luminous eyes he lowered his mouth to kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her nose.

He pulled back to see her smiling up at him and his heart ripped again.

He saw the whole of her before him, now in her twenties, now her thirties, now her forties, now with a bit of extra weight, now with gray hair, now with a cane, now in bed with a book, now without the book, now with her eyes shut, now with labored breath, now without breath, now in the cold ground with nothing but a carved up stone and Julian to remember who she had been.

His soul expanded out a thousand times in love for her and then dissolved down to nothing at her inevitable loss. And it didn’t matter. He would pay and pay and pay, and do it happily.

Her lips parted and he kissed her with a passion born of a lifespan of loneliness. Her lips were soft and he took her face in his hands to hold her still so that he could pour his pent-up love into her.

When she pressed her body closer to his he knew this could be over in minutes. But he wanted it to last. He would have to have discipline enough for both of them.

“Slowly, baby,” he whispered in her ear, and lifted her hands above her head to pin them to the wall.

CHAPTER 6

Grace was lost.

She must be lost, or she would never find herself in the interrogation room, wrists pinned above her head, panting with lust over a guy she didn’t like but seemed to love.

And she wouldn’t like this feeling of helplessness. She certainly wouldn’t relish feeling like a butterfly pinned to a board.

Would she?

Julian didn’t give her a chance to worry about it. His left hand held her wrists, but his right slid down her cheek, caressed her neck, then lower still to pop open the top button of her uniform, then the second.

He caught his breath as the tops of her breasts were revealed. She looked down at his golden head and wished she could tousle that boyish hair, but when she tried to slip a hand out of his hold, he only pressed her wrists harder into the wall.

“Be good,” he admonished her.

She wondered what she was supposed to say back, but he didn’t wait for her to answer. He was already opening the remaining buttons and sliding her shirt out from her pants. She must look so wanton, half naked with her gun belt still on.

Oh god, her service weapon.

“Julian, please,” she whispered.

He looked up and his expression was almost guilty.

“Julian, I need to remove my gun belt,” she told him urgently.

He released her right away. Her hands shook as she tried to take off the weapon just as she did every day. At last it was free and she draped it over a chair.

She stared at it for a moment. Taking off her weapon didn’t absolve her of her duty. What was she doing?

She turned back to find Julian unbuttoning his Oxford, and her doubts vanished.

Like magic.

The overhead light threw his smooth chest and chiseled abdominal muscles into harsh relief. She took a step forward, unsure if she wanted to touch those muscles with her hands or drip them with honey and lick it off.

She didn’t get a chance to do either. Julian had her hands over her head again before she could decide. And she didn’t even want to fight him.

“Good girl,” he whispered in her ear again.

He tugged at her pants with his right hand. They were soon around her ankles.

“Be still,” he said.

Suddenly she was holding her own hands to the wall, as he caressed her cheeks, her shoulders.

Then he pulled her hairband out and her hair fell around her shoulders in soft ticklish waves.

“Look at me,” Julian said.

She obeyed him without question. His eyes were bluer than blue. The frank hunger in his gaze made her insides tighten.

Suddenly she was flying.

In her haze, it took a moment to realize that he had lifted her onto the table. He laid her down tenderly, easing her heated body onto the cool wood. Then he stretched out next to her, leaning up on his elbow and placing one hand possessively on the table’s surface next to her head.

“Do you want this?” he asked her.

But she could tell from his eyes that he already knew exactly what she wanted. Her whole body burned for him. Steam rose from the wood of the table where her skin touched it. She was sure he could feel the desire crashing off her.

She nodded, not trusting herself to open her mouth without begging.

“Not just this,” he gestured to their bodies. “Do you want this?” he asked, placing his hand on her heart. “Because it can’t be casual for me. And it won’t be easy for either of us.”

Her heart stuttered. How could it be anything but casual for him? He was only in Tarker’s Hollow temporarily, to catch bad guys. He was basically a soldier, answering to an Order.

But he didn’t look like he was trying to trick her. He looked... vulnerable. And somewhere deep inside she knew he was telling the truth.

“Grace Kwan-Cortez, I will treasure you, protect you, comfort you and love you with all my heart, for all your life,” he said softly in his deep voice.

Something sweet burst in her chest and she found herself crying. The tears slid out of the corners of her eyes.

“No, darling, no, don’t be sad,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss the tears from her cheeks.

“Please,” she breathed.

“Yes, my angel?” he asked, looking into her eyes.

Instead of answering she lifted her head to kiss him. He tasted like her tears.

Instantly, her body hummed with life. Each hair on her head seemed to ache for Julian’s touch.

He broke their kiss long enough to look up and wave a hand in the air.

“Sera,” he said.

An ornate old-fashioned padlock formed on the door.

“Hortus cresco,” he murmured.

The flowers in the framed nature plates on the walls around the table began to grow out of their frames and cover the floor with mossy vines and muted pastel flowers. They smelled like the potpourri sachets in Abuela’s sock drawer.

It was incredible.

He was incredible.

“That’s better,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck and stroking her belly.

She arched up to him in spite of herself. She wanted him more than anything, needed him to possess her.

“Be still,” he said again. This time, the darkness in his voice told her he was losing control over his desire.

Grace deliberately slowed her breathing and stared up at the ceiling. This was the room where she had watched the parking meter change dry, and tried to keep a straight face while questioning teenagers who were caught hitching rides on the fire truck. The mossy fingers of the magical flower vines had swiftly climbed the walls and reached toward the ceiling, but she knew very well that she was still at the police station, lying on the table.

To her surprise, she was at peace with this realization. There was nowhere she had ever felt more herself than in this place. And it seemed right that the first time she would make love, really make love, that it would happen in her true home and not the rented flat on Elm Avenue.

Julian’s lips brushed across her midriff, and all thought escaped her. She let out her breath in a ragged sigh and it took every fiber of her will not to lift her hips to him.

He hooked his fingers around the elastic of her thong and pulled it off her in one smooth movement. His hands roamed her thighs, smoothing her bare flesh. He nuzzled her hips and she tried not to cry out. They had only begun, how could she already feel this despair that he would never be inside her.

Grace could feel herself swelling in anticipation. When Julian slid a hand into her curls, she held her breath.

“Ohhh,” he groaned when his finger dragged against her wet and swollen flesh.

He buried his face in her neck again, kissing and biting at her wildly, without moving his hand.

Grace closed her eyes and bit her lip until she tasted blood, willing herself not to grind against his fingers.

“Please,” she heard herself whisper brokenly.

Instantly he was on her mouth, licking and worrying her lip. It stung a little, but when he rubbed his hand against her again she didn’t feel it anymore. Her whole world concentrated on that small place between her legs.

She was so wet, she was sure the table would soon be slippery with the evidence of her lust. Her sex was so hungry, so empty.

She could feel Julian hard against her hip. But the last time she had reached for him he’d punished her.

Grace moaned helplessly.

Julian’s hand disappeared.

She opened her eyes to see him slide the unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders. He spun her so that he was between her legs.

When he crawled toward her, she had to shut her eyes.

His tongue touched the base of her vagina and the pleasure was so intense she saw stars behind her eyelids.

He growled with pleasure and began to lap at her enthusiastically.

Grace’s control over herself was lost and she lifted her hips to meet his mouth.

His arm pressed against her hips, pinning her to the table.

And his tongue, oh, his ruthless, clever tongue. Julian caressed and teased her. Adjusting his rhythm to avoid giving her relief, he would lick up to her clitoris, then suckle it lightly and move downward again.

Hours could have passed or merely moments. Grace was frozen in time, praying for him to have mercy on her.

Julian eased a teasing finger against her without penetrating.

She could feel herself opening, her sex begging him.

Slowly, so slowly, he pressed inward and again she saw stars as he found the magical place inside her and kneaded it gently.

There was a low sound, growing louder. Grace realized belatedly that it was her own keening.

“Fuck,” Julian whispered.

Then she felt his mouth on her clitoris again. He flicked his tongue back and forth then suckled hard.

Grace came frantically, tightening like a vice on his finger, shamelessly crushing herself against his mouth. The pleasure seemed to consume her, and her life flashed before her eyes.

She was tottering down Harvard Avenue looking up at the treetops meeting overhead. The co-president of the Chess Club was pinning a tiger-lily corsage on her for prom. She was shooting her service weapon at the police academy. She was digging a bullet out of her best friend’s shoulder. She was meeting a man in the garden of an abandoned house. She was falling in love.

When she opened her eyes, Julian was looking down at her. His lips were parted, as though he were trying to experience it all with her.

She reached for him, with her hands, with her heart, with her very soul.

He fell into her arms and covered her face with tiny kisses.

“Please,” she whispered for the third time.

This time he obeyed. In a flash he was on his feet, stepping out of the rest of his clothes. He removed his watch and laid it on the chair with her gun belt.

“Disponat vobis,” he said to the table.

Grace felt it shift beneath her, but didn’t tremble. One moment she was lying on the hard wood surface, the next she was cradled in impossibly soft bedding.

“Succendunt ignem,” he told the overhead light.

Instead of a halogen bulb in a fixture, Grace was suddenly looking up at a flickering gas lantern.

“Is this okay?” he asked her. His voice was tight with need.

She smiled and held her arms out to him again.

He leapt into the nest of bedding and caged her head with his hands. His eyes were so blue now that it was hard for her to concentrate on what he said next.

“You’ve been a very good girl,” he whispered. “I’m going to make love to you now, but you need to be still so I can make it good for you, darling one. Can you do that for me, Grace?”

She nodded up at him, slowly.

“Beloved,” he murmured, dipping his head to kiss her.

She could feel him, hot and so hard against her. He caught his breath and then pressed himself inside her, so slowly Grace thought she would die.

Once he was fully seated, he stilled for a moment.

Grace relaxed to accommodate him. As soon as the feeling went from stretching to aching with need, Julian eased nearly all the way out and then back in.

“Oh,” she whimpered against his mouth.

He drew back to look at her, all the while making love to her with exquisite slowness.

The lamplight from above made a halo around his golden hair and Grace thought she might have heard birds singing in the forest of magical flowers. She felt weightless with happiness and wished she could freeze this moment. Afterward, surely nothing could ever seem sweet again.

But need soon darkened Julian’s features, and all at once he was thrusting into her wildly.

Her body responded instantly and she couldn’t stop her hips from lifting up to him, goading him. Her nipples were so taut they ached with her burning skin.

Julian slid a hand down to tease her with a long finger.

Suddenly, Grace was coming apart again. She could feel herself milking and squeezing Julian’s cock, as her poor pussy tried to convulse while stretched around his impressive girth.

He groaned helplessly and she felt him grow harder still. He exploded inside her in a wave of pleasure that seemed to go on forever.

When it was over, he nuzzled her neck, then lay beside her with his leg thrown possessively over her hips. Stroking her hair, he gazed at her, his blue eyes crinkled in a warm smile.

Grace couldn’t help smiling back.

“I love you,” he told her.

She opened her mouth, but he laid a finger across her lips.

“Go to sleep now,” he said.

“But—” she whispered.

“Go to sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time. Just let me hold you,” he said firmly.

Grace wanted to protest, but he was so warm and the nest was so soft. She decided to rest for just a moment.

CHAPTER 7

Erik opened the door to the Copper Creek Community Library. The brightness inside contrasted with the damp afternoon outside. He was struck again by the warmth of the place.

“Erik,” Bonnie cried, her heels pounding the pumpkin colored pine floor as she launched herself at him.

“Hey, Bonnie,” he said, trying not to notice her breasts bouncing under her sky blue sweater.

“I found out what the symbols mean,” she said excitedly.

He figured he’d let her go first. After what he had to say, hers was going to seem anticlimactic.

They walked over to the tables with the old fashioned aqua iMacs.

Bonnie indicated that Erik should sit, so he pulled out a chair. He was astonished to see that by some miracle she had managed to pull up a picture of one of the symbols from the internet.

“How the heck did you get this thing online?” he asked.

“Dial up,” she said with a half smile. “And determination.”

“No kidding,” Erik replied.

Bonnie smiled and leaned forward over his shoulder to point at the picture, a set of inward facing arrows.

“So, the arrows mean danger. And they were holding that Pac-Man looking thing sideways. That’s actually an owl. An owl is supposed to be a harbinger of death. I don’t know why Jacob would have had this, though,” she said, shaking her head and sending her auburn tresses in motion.

“I do,” Erik said, gesturing to the chair beside his.

Her green eyes went wide and she sat, smoothing her skirt demurely over her knees in yet another mannerism that reminded Erik of Ainsley.

“I was at the mine today,” he began. “They ran a camera down the shaft.”

He paused. What he had to say next was almost unbelievable. It hit him that she might not believe him. And it wasn’t like he had any proof.

“What did you see?” she prodded.

“The miners found an underground cavern,” he said. “Those symbols were written on the walls,”

Bonnie nodded, slowly.

“That’s very strange,” she said, “but it makes sense. Jake Miller was not a man who would have borrowed books like that for fun.”

“There’s more,” Erik paused again, unsure how to continue.

Bonnie cocked her head, waiting.

Better to just get it all out there. He took a breath and told her everything.

“There were men in the cavern. They were dead. It was horrible. Some of them had been... decapitated. And there was no blood. And there was a grate, shaped like one of the symbols. And there was something alive behind it,” he finished quickly.

He looked over at Bonnie. She was frozen, her face inscrutable.

He was a stranger, and what he’d told her was just plain crazy. For the hundredth time, he cursed the lack of his wolf to help him get a better reading on her.

“We need to go see Teresa Simkins,” Bonnie said. “Now.”

CHAPTER 8

Teresa Simkins lived by the creek. So close to the creek, in fact, that they couldn’t get there by car.

Erik had insisted upon driving, but they could get the pick-up truck only so far into the woods before he had to park it and walk.

Though it was only late afternoon, the swamp was nearly dark, except for the light of the waning moon above. The moonlight made Bonnie’s hair shine and Erik wondered if it was affecting her, and how he might have responded if he were still a wolf.

A fine mist rose out of the muddy ground. After another five minutes their feet began to squelch in the mud.

“Are you sure—” Erik began.

But Bonnie whipped around and put a finger to her lips.

There was nothing to do but continue.

As Erik was beginning to relax and get into the spooky scenery, he spotted movement at his feet.

Snake.

The brown, hourglass markings on its body and the lighter, unmarked head made it instantly recognizable as a venomous copperhead. His dad had taught him to spot them when he used to take Erik fishing.

Erik almost cried out in pain and fear as the scar on his back burned.

The snake slithered past him into the water, unperturbed.

What the hell? Was he afraid of snakes now? Erik had always liked animals. He knew the snake meant him no harm, but his heart pounded like he was in mortal danger.

And why was his scar burning? He wasn’t fucking Harry Potter.

Bonnie continued to walk calmly ahead of him. Erik took a few deep breaths as he followed her, willing himself to get his shit together.

The cold, wet air threatened to sink into his bones. He wondered how Bonnie could stand it in her thin sweater, then remembered that she was a wolf, and it would take more than this to make her cold.

A shadow emerged from the mist, its shape becoming more familiar as they approached.

It was a house, but it was unlike any house Erik had ever seen before.

The entire structure lacked any discernible right angles, and straight lines seemed to be few and far between. Twigs and roots poked from the thatched roof and reached up into the sky like bony fingers. In several places, the ivy that hung from the structure like matted fur had completely overtaken the walls.

Thin tendrils of bluish smoke seeped under the door and joined with the mist outside as Bonnie stepped onto the porch, Erik following uneasily behind.

What little paint was left peeled off the wooden railing in quarter-sized flakes as their footsteps disturbed the thick coat of bright yellow pollen dusting the porch floor.

“Miss Simkins!” Bonnie yelled at the top of her lungs, yanking open the dubious looking screen and banging loudly on the inner door.

Erik twitched at the loud sound after their long, silent walk.

“Sorry, she’s mostly deaf,” Bonnie explained. “And more than a little blind.”

Perfect.

An uncomfortable feeling tugged at the back of Erik’s mind, like he had stepped into a storybook, and not the kind where everyone lives happily ever after.

The door swung open and for a moment Erik thought no one was there. Then he realized that the person who had opened it was quite a bit shorter than he’d expected.

Teresa Simkins stood just about four feet tall. A simple white shift enveloped her round form. A roadmap of lines and furrows crisscrossed her wizened face. A blue haze of cataracts clouded her right eye, but the other, a brown so deep it was almost black, danced with mischief.

“Hi, Miss Simkins,” Bonnie said loudly. “I brought a friend, this is Erik.”

“Come on in out of the cold,” Miss Simkins hollered back, winking at Erik with her good eye.

He smiled politely and stepped inside behind Bonnie.

Instantly, he was hit with a sweltering wave of dry heat, and the cloying smell of marijuana. Not an uncommon odor when you live in a college town, but not exactly what he had been expecting from this visit.

“This is Erik Jensen,” Bonnie told Teresa. “A wolf from Tarker’s Hollow pack. He’s here to help with the mine. We have some questions we were hoping you could answer.”

Teresa eyed Erik up and down. He wasn’t sure how much she could really make out with with her vision.

“He may be from Tarker’s Hollow,” the old woman said, wrinkling her nose disdainfully. “but he’s no wolf.”

A cold sweat formed on Erik’s brow. How could she know that?

“Miss Simkins,” Bonnie said defensively. “He was sent by the Federation. I assure you—“

“It’s alright, Bonnie. She’s right,” Erik admitted, surprised by the feeling of relief that accompanied his confession.

“What?” Bonnie spluttered.

“I was a wolf,” he explained. “Up until a week ago. Now I’m not.”

“What do you mean you were?” Bonnie asked. “How is that even possible?”

“It’s complicated,” he said.

Bonnie shook her head incredulously.

“And that’s not why you two came here in such a rush,” Teresa continued without any regard for the tension building in the room.

“No, it’s not,” Erik said, still searching Bonnie’s face for a sign that they were still friends even though he had allowed her to think he was a wolf.

“Miss Simkins,” Bonnie said, without sparing Erik a glance. “You were close with Jake. We were wondering if he mentioned anything out of the ordinary to you lately.”

Cold sweat trickled down Erik’s back now. It was too hot and Bonnie was definitely mad at him.

Teresa gestured for them to follow her. They walked through a long hallway that Erik would have sworn was longer than the whole house looked from the outside, and into a circular sitting room. Dark wallpaper with a vine pattern covered the walls from floor to ceiling. Three ancient arm chairs with doilies over their arms faced off with a rickety-looking love seat.

Teresa pointed them to the chairs. Bonnie chose the one closest to the door — probably a prudent decision in this crazy house. Erik chose the chair in the middle, next to her.

Teresa sat on the love seat across from them. It gave a terrific creak and a snake darted out from beneath it and disappeared into the shadows along the edge of the room.

Erik had jumped up and swallowed a scream before he could gather himself.

“Sorry,” he explained, sitting back down and staring at his knuckles. “I had a bad experience with a snake recently.”

“What bit you was no snake, Erik Jensen. It was no part of nature at all,” Teresa declared.

“How do you know about that?” he asked, forgetting his embarrassment and looking up to take in the expression on her small face.

Instead of answering, Teresa fished a pipe out of the ashtray on the little table next to the loveseat. She struck a match and lit it in one practiced motion.

The sweet, heavy odor intensified. Erik began to wonder how a wolf could handle such an intense smell.

Ruefully, he remembered the time he’d taken a few draws of a joint being passed around by older kids he wanted to impress. It never did anything for him, his wolf metabolism probably processed it too fast. And of course his dad had smelled it a mile away and punished him as sternly as you’d expect a military man to do. It hadn’t been worth the trouble.

He glanced at Bonnie. She didn’t look back, but she looked like she was feeling okay. Impressive.

Teresa stared out the window. She puffed and her face seemed to disappear in the smoke.

The whole room was getting warmer by the minute. It was nearly unbearable.

Just as Erik began to think that Teresa had forgotten them, she turned back to gaze at them frankly.

“Looks like the time has finally come,” she said with a bitter smile. “It’s been so long. So very long. Those of us who know the true calling started to wonder if it might stay quiet forever. To hope that it would. Some wolves have even moved out of pack lands, to mingle with the regular folk. But I knew.”

What could she be talking about?

As Erik wondered, he caught a slithering movement out of the corner of his eye.

He whipped around, but there was nothing there.

“That’s exactly what they’ve been waiting for,” Teresa continued. “Waiting for us to grow forgetful of our duty. We offered the world our protection, but no one even knows what we’re up against anymore. But I remember. And I knew, when that man came through, the one with the wolf-head cane. I knew trouble was coming. And when Jake told me about the symbols...”

She trailed off, and her chin wrinkled as her dark brown eye filled with tears. She blinked them back and breathed in deeply through her wrinkled nose.

“I told him to leave that mess alone. Bring down those tunnels. Bring down the whole goddamn mine, if need be. But he was headstrong, just like his dad. Thought he was invincible. Now he’s gone. They’re all gone. And where does that leave us?”

Her gaze moved to the window again. The ramrod straightness of her posture only accentuated her despair, and reminded Erik of someone, but he couldn’t think who. Teresa was suddenly beautiful in her sorrow, the curve of her antediluvian belly under the white shift was reminiscent of a tear drop.

Erik yearned to comfort her, but didn’t know how.

“Miss Simkins, we are going to do our best to get to the bottom of this,” he said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, though it put him into the cloud of smoke that surrounded her like a halo. “But we need you to help us understand what’s going on.”

The heat was unbearable. Sweat poured down his chest and underarms. The smoke grew so thick the wallpaper was hardly visible anymore.

Another wriggling movement in the shadows caught his eye. This time the mere act of trying to track it made his vision blur around the edges.

Was he getting high?

Without his heightened wolf immunities and metabolism, he had no tolerance.

His heart raced madly.

Everywhere he looked, he caught slithering movements. How many snakes were in this house?

He looked closer, and the vines in the wallpaper began to squirm.

Not vines. Snakes.

Before his eyes they came to life and slid off the walls and onto the floor by the dozens. They were hiding beneath the love seat, waiting.

Get your shit together, Jensen, he told himself.

“Ha!” Teresa’s laugh was old and dry, like crumpled paper. “We need an alpha, and you’re not even a wolf!”

She was right. What was he supposed to do?

He closed his eyes and tried to go to a mental place far from the smoke and the snakes. There was more at work here than a little pot. He needed to clear his head.

“There is something loose in those mines, Erik Jensen.” Teresa’s voice sounded far away. “Something evil and hungry.”

He remembered the desiccated corpses and fought back the urge to retch.

“And if it gets out,” she continued, “it will kill every last person in Copper Creek.”

Erik’s first thoughts were of the Miller kids — the little twins with their pigtails, and Zeke, and Mary.

“And that will be just the beginning,” she said with quiet authority. “If you’re lucky, you’ll die first, or else you’ll watch as it kills everyone you love.”

Ainsley.

Erik stood suddenly, nearly knocking over the coffee table.

“We’ve got to go,” he said to Bonnie.

“To do what?” she asked.

“Whatever we have to, to make sure that thing never leaves the mine,” he said.

He turned and strode out of the room without waiting to see if she was following. If he had to do this on his own, so be it.

Somehow, he made it through the main room and out into the bracing night. The cold, fresh air began to clear his head immediately.

“Are you okay?” Bonnie asked uncertainly.

So, she had followed him after all.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to plan, not just to act.

“Never better,” he replied.

“What’s your plan?” she asked.

He gestured for her to come with him on the journey by foot back to the truck.

“I’ll tell you on the way. I’ll tell you everything, but you need to do me a favor,” he told her.

CHAPTER 9

A insley was off her game.

Though her whole world was falling apart at the seams, what had her truly shaken was Grace.

It was one thing for Ainsley to know her best friend was getting it on with a guy she’d had a fling with herself. It might be kind of odd if she over-thought it, but at the end of the day, it was no big deal.

But the way both Julian and Grace had been behaving was beyond mysterious. First the kiss, then the denial, then the unspoken anger yesterday.

And now...

Ainsley had gone to the police station to find out what they’d gotten out of Garrett. The whole place was silent as a tomb.

When she’d slipped past the reception area, the door to the interrogation room had swung open just long enough for her to see Grace sleeping naked on the conference table, before Julian pulled it shut behind him.

Grace was a consummate professional.

And Julian was over one hundred years old.

Neither one had an excuse to be acting like a couple of hormonal teenagers.

What the hell was happening with these two?

Now she and Julian stood in front of the interrogation room door, staring at each other awkwardly.

Julian looked down, and cleared his throat.

“Where’s Garrett?” Ainsley asked, saving him from trying to explain what he and Grace had just been doing.

He smiled at her and the relief was plain on his face. He looked quite relaxed, actually, and there was something else different about him too. Ainsley was having a hard time putting a finger on it, but his eyes looked brighter.

“He’s in a cell in the back,” he told her. “I put wards on it so that no magic can be done inside — ours or his.”

“I’m going to talk to him,” she said.

“I’ll wake Grace,” Julian replied.

They nodded at each other, then Julian opened the door again.

Ainsley got one last glimpse of her best friend. Grace curled on her side like a kitten. Her face was soft in sleep, but a half smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She must be having a good dream. Julian leaned over her tenderly, and spoke in a low voice as the door swung shut.

Suddenly, Ainsley had a lump in her throat. She turned on her heel and headed for the holding cells.

The room at the end of the hall felt dark compared to the rest of the station. It stood empty, except for a desk and chair with a framed print of one of Escher’s labyrinths over it, and the man in one of the two holding cells.

Garrett sat on the floor of his cell, cradling the stump of his right hand in the arm of his left.

He should have looked pathetic, but he was strangely calm. And though he was dirty and horribly injured, Ainsley couldn’t help but notice the confidence in the set of his shoulders.

Frankly, she didn’t give a shit how he felt right now. He was going to answer all her questions or the wolves of Tarker’s Hollow would be permitted to tear him apart.

“So you want to release the moroi,” she said without preamble. “Why now?”

Garrett studied her calmly for a moment. Ainsley imagined ripping the cell door off its hinges and tearing his throat out, but her face remained impassive. She knew he would try to use her emotions against her if she gave him the chance.

“Most of the magic has gone out of the world,” he began, his speech surprisingly clear through his damaged jaw. “It’s not ready to put up a fight anymore. The wolves are weakening. It’s time.”

She hadn’t expected Garret to be so talkative, but she wasn’t about to argue. She kept her guard up, waiting for him to try to provoke her as he continued.

“We’ve been looking for a site to wake the first master. With your parents gone, Tarker’s Hollow looked like an ideal candidate. Then, when construction threatened the site, we had to speed things up.”

“That’s why you were so desperate for the key,” Ainsley said, ignoring the jab about her parents.

“Yes,” he replied. “We had one of yours on the inside. Watching. Guarding the key.”

“Sadie?” Ainsley asked, trying not to let the wave of nausea she felt at the betrayal show on her face.

“She and her late husband,” Garrett nodded. “Their job was to keep an eye on your parents and report back to us. Mr. Epstein was loyal to our cause. Apparently, Sadie was quite taken with you. She refused to give up the key. We were forced to improvise.”

So Sadie Epstein-Walker was practically a double agent. How brave she had been to stand up to Garrett. Ainsley tried to keep the smile off her face. Garrett would see none of her emotions.

“But now we have the key. It’s over,” she said calmly.

“It’s too late to stop it,” Garrett told her with a smile that didn’t touch the ruined side of his face. “The wheels are already in motion. The master will rise, one way or another.”

“Then why did you even need the key?” Ainsley asked.

“We want to release him on our terms. It’s too unpredictable to release him without it.”

He had to be bluffing. But Ainsley’s wolf senses told her that his heart was beating steadily, his pulse throbbing along at the same pace it had been in the beginning.

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked.

A mocking, almost flirtatious expression flickered in his pale blue eyes.

“So sorry, Miss Connor. I know how much you must have been looking forward to extracting the information from me.”

He glanced at her hands, which she’d balled into tight fists without realizing. She relaxed, and waited, silently.

“Because it doesn’t matter,” he continued. “You’re going to give me the key anyway.”

Although she knew there were wards on the cell, preventing him from doing magic, Ainsley looked away from him. His silky confidence was too much.

“Why would I do that?” she asked, studying the picture of Escher’s labyrinth.

“Because, I am the only one who can give your mate his wolf back.”

CHAPTER 10

Halloween night in Copper Creek.

Mary pretended she was relieved not to be trick-or-treating with the little ones tonight. After all, she was fifteen and practically grown-up now.

But it was beyond tragic, really. No one loved Halloween as much as Mary. And she’d given it all up to impress Erik, who was going trick-or-treating with her whole family, while she stayed home to give out candy.

It was so unfair.

The twins squealed like crazy as Zeke bounced around, karate kicking in the air. It was only a matter of time before he hit one of the girls in the head.

As if to prove her right, Rachel twirled awkwardly past Zeke in her ballerina costume, and one of his air kicks connected with her in the shin. She collapsed dramatically to the ground, howling.

Ruth swaggered over and shook her finger in Zeke’s shocked face.

“Don’t you hurt my sister!” she said in a deep, Batman voice.

“Zeke!” Mom yelled.

“I didn’t — I didn’t mean to!” he stammered, angry already, as he always was.

“I told you twenty times not to do that stuff in the house. Now read Ruth a story while I do Rachel’s hair. Rachel, c’mon, we need to do your ballerina bun!”

Mom always did great hair-dos on Halloween. Mary remembered the Halloween she’d gone as an ice skater and her mom had given her an up-do and sprinkled glitter in the hair spray while it was still wet. It had looked so pretty, everyone said so, and Mary had felt so proud.

“I know,” Mom said to Rachel in the other room. “Let’s put some glitter in it when we’re done!”

That was it. Mary couldn’t take it any more. She marched upstairs and flopped onto her bed, ready to cry.

“Mary?” a male voice called from the next room.

Erik. His voice was so deep it practically vibrated in her bones. The sound of it gave her excited little chills.

“Yeah?” she asked hopefully, sitting up on her bed and tucking her hair behind her ears.

“I’ll stay and give out candy with you, on one condition,” Erik said through the door.

Oh my gosh, yes! He could practically say anything as his condition. This night was going to go from the worst night of her whole life, to the best.

“What?” she asked, as casually as she could.

He tapped on the door.

She jumped up and opened it.

Erik stood on the other side. He wore a full-length robe and long, white beard. On his nose perched a pair of round-rimmed glasses.

“Dumbledore!” Mary couldn’t help yelling. The Harry Potter books were some of her all-time favorites.

“You have to wear a costume too,” he told her, handing her a Rite Aid bag.

She grinned in spite of herself. Of course she would wear a costume. She had never really not wanted to.

“Okay,” she said, and gave him a genuine smile, not an expression she wore often these days.

She could tell he was smiling back at her because his big brown eyes crinkled. The rest of his face was hidden behind the enormous fake beard. She couldn’t help giggling a little.

“Mary, I know you’re getting older.” He spoke with an earnestness that carried through, in spite of the ridiculous getup. “Just try to remember that you won’t always have that many chances to act like a kid. You need to take them whenever you can.”

He was so serious and his voice was so dark.

She was torn between giggling again at how serious he was being in his silly outfit, and tingling with want for him.

Though what she actually wanted from him, she wasn’t sure. It was one thing to fantasize that they were trapped in a blizzard high in a mountain cabin, cuddling together for warmth. And it was another thing to stand six inches away from him, an actual grown-up man.

He was still staring intently at her.

She nodded back at him and snatched the Rite Aid bag out of his hands. Then she dashed down the stairs.

“You’ll need one of your dad’s ties! And get your mom to tease up your hair!” he yelled after her.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she peeked in the bag. Inside a wooden wand sat atop a black robe.

Hermione!

Erik Jensen was so freaking cool. He was also the kindest man Mary had ever met, besides her own daddy.

“Well, look at that, hon!” her mom said, looking over her shoulder. “The little wizard girl! We’ll put some glitter in your hair too, okay?”

CHAPTER 11

A insley and Julian sat on the wicker love seat on her front porch, gazing out at the bright fall trees that lined Princeton Avenue. To passersby, Ainsley figured they probably looked like a young couple whispering sweet nothings.

In reality, they were in a heated debate over how to handle the evening’s showdown.

Ainsley hadn’t told Julian about Garrett’s offer. There was no reason. She had sworn to herself she wouldn’t give it a second thought.

But she was thinking about it all the same, worrying at it like a smooth stone with a sharp nick in it.

The pack is my duty. But Erik is my world. The pack is my duty...

“...only way to handle this is—” Julian stopped speaking suddenly. Which was a good thing, because Ainsley had missed most of what he’d just said.

She looked up to see the kindergarten bus dropping the children off at the corner — all dressed up for Halloween.

Could it be Halloween already?

The twins from next door bounded off, dressed up as Wendy and Captain Hook. The long-suffering nanny shuffled them into the house, scolding them gently for not wearing coats. Ainsley wondered idly if their big brother would be Peter Pan.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Julian grabbed her hand.

“Ainsley, what’s wrong?” he asked.

She stared at him in stunned silence for a moment, then remembered herself.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “The whole world is at stake here. Everything is wrong.”

“No. There’s something else. Are you getting a feeling about something?”

“A feeling?”

“An instinct,” he said, a note of hope in his voice. “A premonition. Don’t make light of your gift, Ainsley. Any clues we have, whether they’re from your wolf senses or your magic, might be important.”

She shook her head sadly. If only she did have an intuition. Instead she had the teetering scales of Erik and the pack tipping back and forth in her head, threatening her very sanity.

“Well, if you do get a feeling, don’t sit on it,” he told her.

“I won’t. Where’s Grace?” she asked, hoping the mention of her best friend would distract him.

“She’ll be here soon,” Julian replied, but he looked anxious. “She said she had something to do after work.”

Ainsley figured it was because of what Grace needed to do at work. By now, Grace would have had to convince Dale that Garrett was actually a wolf, since there was no time to explain about the magic. Then she’d have to convince him not to transport him to a hospital, in spite of his hacked off hand. Grace had figured that since she could demonstrate that Garrett had murdered Lilliana, Dale would be easy to convince.

Ainsley thought the whole thing sounded sloppy, but couldn’t come up with a better idea that allowed Grace to handle as much of the problem through legal channels as possible.

If Dale didn’t relent, and if he let Garrett out of the cell...

Her next thought should have been that something could happen to Grace. Instead she caught herself thinking that she might not have a choice about Erik anymore.

Erik, the pack, Erik...

“Are you sure the key is safe?” she asked Julian, not quite wanting to ask where the key was, as that might be the first step down a dark path.

“It’s in the chest, covered in protective wards,” he said with a half smile. “If anyone besides you opens it, they are in for a nasty surprise.”

And that was that.

“So do we tackle the thing in the tomb head on?” she asked.

“If it is released using the key, it will be strong,” Julian replied. “It’s already been strengthened by the ritual sacrifice of the girl.”

Lilliana. Ainsley knew Julian had avoided using her name on purpose. As long as he had been fighting this fight, the casualties still pained him. He might be an ageless warrior, but he was still human.

Ainsley’s broken heart throbbed. If her own human side were stronger, would she bring Erik back?

“Garrett said the tomb can be opened without the key. Is that true?” she asked.

“Not easily. They could blast or dig their way through the stone, but the barrier is magical, too,” Julian replied thoughtfully. “The moroi would be bound to the location until it had fed on enough prana.”

“Prada?” Ainsley asked.

“Prana is the sanskrit term. It is also called Chi, or life-force.” Julian studied his hands. “Sometime even the soul.”

“This thing eats souls?” Ainsley asked, willing herself to remain calm.

“Something like that,” he replied softly.

“So, if we break the stone, we will have a weakened version to deal with, is that right?” Ainsley asked.

“Well, yes, but it will be nearly impossible to destroy. Until it feeds, it won’t even take a corporeal form,” Julian explained.

“But once it’s solid, then we can kill it?” Ainsley asked.

“It’s not that simple. moroi are able to shift into the form of any creature they’ve fed on, right down to the last detail — memories and abilities included. That is why they were imprisoned in the first place.”

“So what do we do here?” Ainsley asked. “What’s our best chance?”

“To bury the whole thing under a few tons of rubble,” Julian said, staring out into the trees. “And hope no one ever digs it up.”

Ainsley followed his gaze. The way the wind stirred the golden leaves on the oak out front, it was impossible to believe that the town was riddled with dangers. That the very souls of Tarker’s Hollow could be eaten by a remorseless thing below the ground was unthinkable.

The coppery smell of blood stabbed at her nose, and she bolted up in a flash.

“Ainsley?” Julian said.

But she barely heard him.

That guy Grace had dated, Landon What’s-his-name, was staggering down the center of Princeton Avenue. His lip was split and there was blood in his dark curls and all over the white t-shirt that peeked out of the flannel he wore. He staggered a little as he walked, and squinted at the house numbers.

Ainsley cleared the porch railing in one bound. It took all her energy not to shift. Her wolf was snapping her jaws at the surface of Ainsley’s conscience.

“What happened?” she asked, as she met him in the street.

He looked at her in shock and she slipped an arm around his shoulder to guide him toward the house.

Julian was already on the front walk and he took the boy’s other arm. Together they led him to the wicker love seat on the porch, where he collapsed.

“What happened?” Ainsley asked again, urgency pushing her voice higher. She could smell Grace’s fear on this young man.

“Grace came over to my place,” he began.

Ainsley’s wolf was on high alert. She heard Julian’s pulse speed and smelled his sweat beading. He was jealous.

“We went for a walk,” Landon continued, “and then the shadows...” he trailed off, and his eyes went out of focus.

He was in shock.

“Landon. You have to tell us what happened,” Ainsley told him in her sternest alpha voice. “No matter how crazy it seems.”

He blinked twice, then turned to her.

“The shadows came to life. They swallowed up Grace. I tried to stop it, but they were so strong...”

Ainsley stood and slipped her phone from her pocket. She paced over to the other side of the porch, and dialed 9-1-1.

Julian placed a hand on Landon’s forehead. She listened with half her mind as she explained the situation into the phone.

“You took a nasty spill over the handlebars of your mountain bike,” Julian told Landon in a silken voice. “You hit your head. The part with the shadows wasn’t real. Just a bump on the head.”

By the time she got off the phone with the Springton dispatch Landon was looking relieved and leaning back against the cushions of the love seat.

Within ten minutes he was being carried away in the back of an ambulance. If anyone noticed the lack of a bike at the scene, they didn’t mention it.

As soon as they were alone again, Ainsley looked to Julian.

“How much prana would the thing have to absorb to be strong enough to come out without the key?” she asked.

“I don’t really know,” he replied uncertainly. “At least a dozen people’s worth, I would guess.”

Ainsley thought of what she had seen inside the key — the strings, the lights of the townsfolk shining at the end of each, and Grace, eclipsing the brightest of them.

“What about one really powerful person?” she asked.

CHAPTER 12

The unshakable feeling of another presence in his room interrupted Erik’s dreamless sleep.

He opened his eyes to see a dark figure sitting at the foot of his bed. The two had never met, but Erik knew the man beyond any shadow of doubt.

Jake Miller.

Jake had the assured demeanor of a true alpha, but he carried a heaviness on his shoulders.

Erik wondered for a moment if he recognized Jake from a family photo or if he knew the alpha because he still had a touch of the wolf in himself after all.

“It’s too late to fix things,” Jake said, staring at the glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the ceiling. He spoke as though they had been talking for a long time already.

“Why?” Erik asked.

“It fed on my men. It’s almost strong enough to break free,” he said, looking down at his big, callused hands. “We should never have gone in after it. I’ve doomed the entire pack.”

“What should we do?” Erik asked.

“Evacuate the town, Erik Jensen,” Jake said, turning to Erik with fire in his eyes. “Take everyone far away, before it lures in another poor soul. The mine needs to be condemned, and the pack needs to get away, before they end up like me.”

Jake opened his mouth and a snake slowly slithered out.

Erik woke in a cold sweat to the sound of a high pitched scream. It wasn’t his own.

LeeAnn.

Erik threw himself out of bed and rushed through Mary’s room in his boxers. She was already up, standing at the edge of her bed.

He took the stairs two at a time and found LeeAnn at the wide open front door.

“Ruth! Rachel!” she screamed in a voice that was raw with panic.

Cold air rushed in, filling the living room with an ominous chill and blowing LeeAnn’s yellow nightgown out behind her. Erik spun to take in the room, but he was sure in his soul that the girls weren’t in the house.

So, apparently, was LeeAnn. She ran into the front yard and he followed her. He couldn’t help searching the view of the creek, praying not to see two small bodies floating.

LeeAnn pulled the Tweety Bird nightgown over her head and tossed it to the ground. Erik got a glimpse of pale breasts and the curve of the c-section scar on her belly highlighted in the stark moonlight before she dropped onto all fours and bristled into an earthy brown wolf.

The mother wolf lifted its delicate snout and let out a long, mournful howl that echoed off the surrounding mountains.

Lights began to turn on in the bungalows up and down the street.

LeeAnn dropped her nose and loped off into the darkness. She was headed in the direction of the library. And the mine.

“We should follow her,” Mary’s voice said, inches from Erik’s ear. He hadn’t even heard her follow him. “We need to shift, now.”

“No,” he said quickly, turning to her.

Mary studied him quizzically, while Zeke watched from the doorway.

“Zeke can’t shift yet,” he ventured. “And besides, I know where she’s headed. Meet me at my truck.”

He ran inside for a pair of jeans and his keys, then shuffled them into the truck.

Zeke sat glassy-eyed in the backseat. It was clear he wasn’t awake enough to understand that his little sisters were really missing.

“I was jealous,” Mary said, almost inaudibly from the passenger seat. “I didn’t like taking care of them all the time.”

Erik was driving fast on a barely familiar road, but he spared her a glance. The lights from the houses strobed on her serious face.

“This isn’t your fault,” he told her. “I promise. Now, whatever happens, I don’t want you going anywhere near that mine. Understood?”

“Hey!” she yelled.

Erik turned back to the road just in time to pull up. Bonnie was running toward the truck, waving her hands, her flaming hair dark against a white night gown.

She pulled open the back door and slid into the rear cab with Zeke.

“I’m coming with you. I’ll watch the kids,” she said.

Erik pulled out again, fast enough to skid a little. The mine was just ahead. He took the sharp turn into the parking lot in time to see LeeAnn’s lupine form bound through the gates.

Then he spotted them.

The gravel flew as he threw the truck into park. He was out before it had fully stopped. He had to get to the mine before LeeAnn.

The twins slowly approached the entrance to the mine.

Though their usual way was to fight and roughhouse, now, the sisters held hands solemnly.

Their small bare feet tread the sharp gravel and their short legs met the night air under the flimsy t-shirts they must have been sleeping in. It was cold, but the girls didn’t seem to notice. They were fixated on the mouth of the mine.

Something began to build in Erik’s chest. Never had he felt this kind of anger or fear. And there was no wolf to turn to, to take the brunt of this emotion and demolish it with action.

He was no wolf, but he was still fast. He tore across the gravel and circled the twins in time to block them from the mine. They stared at him in confusion.

LeeAnn was there in a heartbeat.

Thank god, she didn’t seem affected by the call of the thing in the mine. Her protective instincts were too powerful.

She shifted and wrapped the girls in her strong arms, moaning in wordless relief, tears striping her cheeks.

At their mother’s touch, the girls seemed to come back to life. They cried too, though Erik was pretty sure they were only crying because their mother was crying.

“What were you doing?” LeeAnn asked them tremulously.

“We... we saw Daddy!” Rachel said happily, remembering.

“He told us. He told us to come,” Ruth insisted, looking like she was worried she might be in trouble.

LeeAnn wrapped a hand around her own mouth in horror.

Erik knelt in the gravel and put a hand on each girl’s shoulder.

“Girls, what you saw wasn’t really your daddy,” he explained gently.

“It was my daddy.” Ruth shook her little head. “I saw him.”

Erik realized it was too late. He was out of time. He couldn’t convince the whole town to evacuate. He couldn’t even convince a five year old.

Another wave of furious despair hit him and he struggled to breathe. How could he watch it happen, helplessly?

He heard footsteps in the gravel and turned to find Bonnie and Mary approaching.

“What happened?” Bonnie asked.

Mary had thrown herself down with her mom and sisters. Zeke joined them.

Watching them, Erik Jensen understood his purpose here. The knowledge shook him to his core and filled him with both sadness and glory.

“Remember that favor I asked you?” he said to Bonnie. She looked at him strangely, but nodded. “Get the message to Ainsley for me.”

Erik turned back to the huge piece of equipment he’d recognized yesterday. It was similar enough to one of his own front end loaders. It shouldn’t be a problem for him to operate. He hoped it was big enough for what he had in mind.

He jogged over. As he expected, the key was in the ignition. It always was. This type of equipment was in no danger of being stolen.

“What’s he doing?” he heard Mary ask, her voice quavering.

“It’s going to be alright, Mary.” He turned back to meet her gaze. “You need to be strong now for your family. Whatever happens, do not go in that mine!”

He turned away, the naked despair in her eyes too much for him to bear. She began to protest, but he turned the key and the machine came to life with a tremendous roar, shutting out the rest of the world.

“Erik!” Mary cried. But she sounded very far away.

Erik swung the machine into gear and headed straight for the mine.

A warm sense of calm fell over him, and his thoughts turned to his love. He hoped Ainsley would be proud of him.

CHAPTER 13

In Ainsley’s eyes, the thing under the field house suddenly transformed from a theoretical danger into something horribly real.

Grace, her darling, Grace, who was both stalwart and silly, was now in its clutches.

“Let’s go,” she told Julian. “Now.”

“Go on ahead,” Julian said, his face expressionless. “I’ll catch up with you. I have to get something first.”

She wanted to argue, but there was no time. He knew the creature better than any of them. If he needed to stop for something, it must have been important.

Ainsley found herself sailing over the porch railing for the second time in an hour. As she sprinted up Princeton and swung the left onto Elm, she focused on a mental call to her lieutenant.

Cressida. I need you.

Spooky decorations festooned the town, all part of the yearly parade and celebration. Halloween had always been big in Tarker’s Hollow. The irony of seeing the town draped in ghosts and skeletons pained Ainsley, and she ran faster, hoping not to bump into anyone she knew.

Cressida met her on the other side of Yale. She fairly flew out of the woods in spite of her less than sensible attire. Ainsley had almost forgotten how fast she was.

As they drew closer, she realized Cressida wore black leather boots with a three inch heel. Fishnet thigh highs ended before her skirt began. A thin pirate blouse above it was cinched to her narrow torso with a leather corset, which pressed her tiny breasts together into the semblance of cleavage. A sequined eye patch hung on a length of elastic around her neck.

“Wow, you’re really getting into the Halloween sprit, huh?” Ainsley remarked as they ran to the field house.

“Is that today?” Cressida asked.

Ainsley tried not to overthink the outfit and focused on the task at hand.

“Cressida, we’re in real trouble. Charley has Grace and he’s going to feed her to the moroi unless we let it loose,” she explained as calmly as she could.

“What’s a moroi?” Cressida asked, looking less than enthused.

Oh god. She didn’t know. There hadn’t been time.

“moroi are like vampires, except they feed on human souls, not just blood. According to Ophelia and Julian, the purpose of the wolf packs is to guard their tombs,” she explained, hoping she wouldn’t scare the girl into abandoning their rescue attempt.

“So, like vampires,” Cressida said thoughtfully. “Are they hot like the ones in Buffy? Or corny like the Twilight one?”

“I... I have no idea,” Ainsley stammered.

“Just fucking with you,” Cressida winked. “I heard the whole thing already from MacGregor. Just tell me what I’m supposed to do.”

Ainsley wasn’t sure whether to slap Cressida or kiss her. She wished the moon weren’t still full enough to make her eyes linger on the place where the tops of Cressida’s fishnets met her slender thighs.

“Just follow my lead,” she said. “I’m not really sure how this is going to go down. But they can’t have Grace and they can’t unleash their monster on my pack either.”

Cressida set her jaw and nodded in a way that told Ainsley she was ready to throw down. Ainsley’s wolf growled approval in her chest.

The barn doors at the back of the field house were already open. Once inside, Ainsley slid it shut behind them. It wouldn’t do for anyone to wander into this fight.

The normal scents of lawn equipment and fresh cut grass filled Ainsley’s nose. But her sensitive wolf ears heard the sickening pulse of something large and wet that didn’t belong.

She hurried to the rear corner, praying that the trap door wasn’t sealed. She didn’t think she could repeat that business Julian had done before. And she certainly wasn’t going to wait for him.

Thankfully, the door stood wide open. It looked like someone had been through in a hurry.

“Lux ex tenebris,” Ainsley whispered, and smiled at the fluttering sensation from her fingertips at the arrival of her magical fireflies. Merrily, they sparked ahead of her, lighting the way down the rungs of the ladder in a cheerful way that seemed at odds with the gravity of the situation.

As soon as her feet hit the wet stones that made up the floor of the corridor, Ainsley took off at a run. Every fiber of her being longed to shift, but she knew she would need her human brain to negotiate what lay ahead.

The cold, wet air seeped into her lungs as she ran, the clicking of Cressida’s heels ringing on the stones behind her. Cressida was faster, but she held back, letting Ainsley take the lead.

Like the last time, Ainsley had nearly given up on there being anything below the field house but an endless corridor, when she saw a sliver of light from the archway in the distance.

Ainsley slowed her pace and put a finger to her lips, signaling Cressida to be quiet.

Cressida tapped her own temple, reminding Ainsley that she need only think a command, and her bond as alpha would do the rest.

Of course. Ainsley wished, for the hundredth time, that she were better trained at the whole alpha thing. Maybe some time away with Ophelia was just what she needed.

Together, she and Cressida slipped down the last few feet without so much as a single boot heel click.

Ainsley pressed herself to the cold stone wall and angled her cheek to steal a glance into the room.

What she saw there filled her with rage.

Grace.

Bound and kneeling on the floor, her navy blue uniform, in which she took so much pride, rumpled and streaked with dirt.

Charley Coslaw stood over her, holding a gun to her head with a relaxed indifference.

How could this be the same man that donated all of the decorative flowerbeds in the town square, and had a standing order for 500 boxes of cookies from the local Girl Scout troop?

The acrid tang of Grace’s fear-filled scent told Ainsley that her friend had been roughed up, but not assaulted sexually. This knowledge filled her with relief and fury at once.

Again, she had to choke down the shift that was building in her blood. Her very bones seemed to twist against her will, and it took all her discipline not to let them betray her.

Grace, who was facing Ainsley, had given no sign of seeing her. That was wise, because if Grace looked at Ainsley, so would Charley, and Ainsley would lose any chance of surprising him.

“I’m afraid Clive Warren used my last silver bullet,” Charley said, his voice expressing his repugnance for the former sheriff. “But I don’t think that will matter for your friend.”

Fuck. So much for surprise.

“You’re not going to shoot her,” Ainsley said firmly as she stepped through the archway. “You need her alive to use her as a key.”

“It’s true,” he said. “She makes a good key. But there are other ways to release the master.”

“Not without a key,” Ainsley replied.

“Okay then, Ainsley,” he said with sly smile that looked out of place on his friendly face. “So you come for me. I shoot Grace. You kill me. Problem solved, right?”

His sarcastic tone told Ainsley all she needed to know.

Charley Coslaw had underestimated her. In spite of all the evidence to the contrary, he believed her to be the same goody-two-shoes she’d been all those years ago. A girl who could never see harm come to her friend.

Fortunately, Ainsley labored under no such delusions about Charley. She knew exactly what he was.

And she had already weighed her options and come out knowing she really only had one course of action. If she walked away, he would kill Grace anyway, and release the moroi to feast on the town.

Protecting the pack was Ainsley’s sworn duty.

She could feel the hum of each of them under her every move, even now in this cold place. The teeming warmth of their green submission bathed her in power and responsibility.

That didn’t make it easy, though.

She met Grace’s eye.

The policewoman’s face was a mask of calm. But Ainsley could see that her best friend’s eyes were terrified.

If she could stretch this moment across space and time, she would. Ainsley wished wildly that she could call a truce, or even have one moment to say good-bye.

Grace nodded once and lowered her eyes in assent.

Still, Ainsley stood frozen. To move toward Charley was to kill her best friend.

Not to move was to abandon her pack.

She closed her eyes and tried to picture Ophelia, and the calm way Ophelia would do what had to be done in this situation.

Sucking in a breath, she opened her eyes, and took a step toward Charley.

“Well, that’s unexpected,” Charley remarked, cocking the hammer of the gun. “I guess you’re more wolf than I gave you credit for. Say good-bye to your friend.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said a crisp voice from the doorway behind them.

Julian.

Ainsley snuck a glance back at him. He was holding the key. It seemed almost to glow in his hand, like it knew, after centuries, that it was finally close to its home.

“How about a trade?” Julian asked Charley, without so much as a glance at Ainsley.

“Julian, you can’t do this,” Ainsley said. “Your vows, your order... You’ve dedicated your life to keeping these things from getting free.”

“No. I dedicated my body and soul. Until I met Grace, I didn’t have a life,” he said simply. “I’m not willing to let her go. No matter the cost.”

A flash of understanding illuminated everything for Ainsley. The strange behavior, the tension, all of it made sense. Grace and Julian weren’t having a fling. What they had was love, true love. And Julian was going to destroy the world in its name.

Desperately, Ainsley scrambled, putting herself physically between Julian and Charley.

“You’re not thinking clearly, Julian,” she told him. “I’m not going to let you do this.”

“I’ve never been more clear about anything,” he said as a huge ball of light leapt into existence in his free hand. “And you might want to get out of my way.”

A growl burst from Ainsley’s chest, and she had to press down her wolf once again, as she summoned her own blue ball of light.

“You know you’re no match for me, Ainsley,” he said, the ball of energy pulsing in time with his steady heartbeat.

“You’re not that quick, Copperfield,” Cressida said from behind Julian.

Ainsley was at a complete loss for a moment, wondering how Cressida had managed to position herself without anyone noticing. She really was wonderfully sneaky.

“If you attack Ainsley, you’ll be dead before you hit the ground,” Cressida hissed in his ear. “And if you make me shift and ruin these boots, I’ll make sure it’s painful.”

For a moment, Julian seemed to waver in indecision. Then the ball of light in his hand flickered out.

Ainsley held her magic strong.

Cressida smirked, and Ainsley was forced to admire what a great pirate she made.

Julian’s shoulders slumped and the look in his eyes was so painful she could barely meet his gaze. She knew that look. She’d seen it in the mirror every night since Erik had gone.

“Why don’t you give me that key?” she asked him gently.

Julian looked down at the key in his hand, as though he had forgotten all about it.

He looked to Grace, then, before anyone could react, he threw himself at the center of the symbol on the floor, and shoved the key into the stone hole.

Instantly, a pillar of crimson energy engulfed him.

Grace’s scream ripped Ainsley’s gaze from Julian.

Her best friend, still bound, dragged herself across the floor toward the column of fiery red light.

Ainsley threw herself at Grace and rolled her away from the grate.

“Noooooo,” Grace howled. “Let me go! You were willing to let me die a minute ago. Let me go!”

Behind them, Charley cackled in delight.

Ainsley pinned Grace beneath herself and turned to see Charley stepping toward the beam.

Julian was gone.

“Rise, Master,” Charley boomed in his friendliest Sunday open house voice. “My father’s father began our post in this village to prepare for your arrival. I am here to do your bidding.”

The outline of a human-like shape began to form inside the beam.

Ainsley watched, numb with horror, as Charley stepped closer still.

The thing inside the light reached out a hand to Charley’s head. Charley closed his eyes, basking in the glory of its presence.

The moment the hand made contact with his head, his eyes shot open and he screamed in agony.

The gun fell to the stone floor with a clatter.

Charley’s head seemed to melt and ooze into the fingers of the outstretched hand, followed by his neck and torso. He continued to be drawn in, bit by bit, until at last his legs swizzled up into the pulsating red beam of light, and he was gone.

The light throbbed brighter than before, then pulled inward, darkening for a moment.

Without warning, it exploded upward, piercing the stone ceiling, and disappeared, leaving them in complete blackness.

The sound of rushing water poured in from the hole left in its wake.

One moment, Ainsley was on the stone floor, holding Grace down. The next she was waist deep in frigid water, grasping Grace’s leather belt to pull her up for air. Within seconds the entire chamber was completely flooded.

Ainsley swam with all her strength, in what she hoped was the direction of the hole left by the creature. She had bumped the domed ceiling, and begun to feel for the opening, when Grace wriggled out of her grasp.

Determinedly, Ainsley kicked after her friend. Her arms closed on Grace again, but in the tumult, she lost her sense of up and down.

A beam of light showed her the way, and she swam, dragging Grace after her.

Despair set in when she saw it was only a broken shard of the key.

Ainsley snagged it in the hand that wasn’t hooked on Grace’s belt. Her lungs burned with the need for breath as she held the bit of glowing key near her face and let out a tiny bit of precious air.

In the soft illumination, she watched the bubbles move. They seemed to be going sideways, but she kicked off like mad in their direction.

They led her back to the smooth, curved stone of the ceiling. She felt around frantically, but couldn’t find the hole.

Again, she held up the bit of key to search, wondering how much longer she could hold her breath.

Two strong hands grabbed her from behind, yanking her backwards.

No, no, no.

She turned and the light of the key reflected in a sequined eyepatch.

Cressida.

Ainsley followed Cressida and soon they had reached the hole. On the other side was more icy water.

With the last of her strength, Ainsley swam. It grew impossible to hold in the air in her lungs, and she began to let it out, as slowly as she could, not knowing how much further she had to go in the icy blackness.

Soon, all of her air was gone.

Ainsley struggled to fight it, but her desperate body tried to breath in the water.

Miraculously, she broke the surface a moment later, spluttering and coughing as she clawed her way to the mud of a familiar bank.

She was too desperate for her next breath to appreciate the fact that the tomb of the moroi had been directly below her special place with Erik all along.

Under the white bark of the sycamore where they’d played, she willed her body not to choke to death, on the water of her own creek.

Cressida appeared beside her, loosening Ainsley’s death grip on Grace.

“Get her untied,” Ainsley gasped.

The air was cold enough that Ainsley could see her own labored breath as she stumbled up the rocky bank and fell to her knees.

The water she vomited felt pleasantly warm as it flew out of her lungs. She retched a few more times, then turned to Cressida and Grace.

Grace sat on the bank, staring blankly back into the water.

“Any sign of that thing?” Ainsley asked Cressida.

“No,” Cressida shook herself, sending droplets everywhere. “Where would it go?”

“It’s looking for a quick power fix,” Ainsley hypothesized. “Who are the most powerful people in town?”

“Ophelia,” Cressida said instantly.

“Garret,” Ainsley added, the wheels of her mind turning furiously as her accelerated healing kicked in. “I’ll go to Ophelia, you guys go to Garrett. Put the pack on high alert. This thing cannot leave Tarker’s Hollow.”

Grace still stared into the black water. Ainsley was nearly paralyzed looking at her. Imagining the trajectory of the water to the hole, to the tomb, to Julian, disappearing into the red light under the grate.

The broken key seemed to ache in Ainsley’s hand, reminding her of the mate she would never regain.

“Let’s go, sweetie,” Cressida said kindly to Grace. “He didn’t do that so that you could sit around moping.”

Suddenly, Grace was on her feet. She blew past them both, looking like she was ready to punch one of them in the face.

“Take care of her,” Ainsley said softly.

“Somebody’s going to pay for these boots,” Cressida muttered.

Ainsley trotted ahead to Grace. She couldn’t leave things this way.

“I’m so sorry for what happened to Julian,” she said helplessly. “And that you got caught up in all of this.”

Grace kept walking.

“I have to go to Ophelia,” Ainsley said. “But I will find you when this is over. I can’t make things right, but I’ll find you anyway.”

Grace didn’t even blink.

But Ainsley didn’t have time to negotiate.

“Hold this for me,” she said, tossing the shard of the key to Grace.

Without waiting to see if her friend caught the key, Ainsley shifted into her flame colored wolf, shredding what was left of her tattered clothes.

As it always did, her focus narrowed to a simpler plane. The shivering misery of her conflicted human was replaced with the singular purpose of a wolf seeking her alpha, and the tingling burn of bunching, stretching muscle as she sailed through the woods.

CHAPTER 14

M ary was confused.

No matter how many books she read about grown-ups, or how much she longed to be treated like one, sometimes, the things they did still puzzled her.

Tonight, she knew that what Erik was saying, and what he was doing, were very different things. She just couldn’t quite figure out why.

“What’s he doing?” she said, almost to herself.

“He’s going to fix things,” her mom whispered.

“How?” Mary asked.

“There’s a very bad thing in those mines,” Miss Bonnie said. “Erik is going to make sure it never gets out. It’s what your daddy was trying to do when he brought down his branch. He’s going to finish what your daddy started. To protect us.”

Mary could hear the comforting words they were saying, fix and protect, but the set of Erik’s jaw told her there was another way to describe what he was doing.

To protect us.

“What about him?” she asked, turning to the librarian, who had less reason than her mother to protect her feelings.

Miss Bonnie averted her eyes, and suddenly, everything was clear.

“No!” Mary cried. “He can’t do that!”

She had spent her life listening to her grown-ups, mostly, and doing the things that ought to be done. But she couldn’t stand by and let this happen.

She leaped up off the gravel. She only needed to get past these women and get to Erik before it was too late.

If the thing was too strong for her dad with his crew, it was too much for Erik by himself. And that made this a waste — whether the grown-ups saw it that way, or not.

But the librarian grabbed her. She was stronger than she looked.

“There’s nothing you can do, honey,” she whispered in Mary’s ear.

“Remember what he said, Mary,” her mother added. “We need you to be strong. To take over your new role in the pack.”

“I can’t,” Mary cried, struggling hopelessly against Miss Bonnie’s strong arms. “I won’t. I don’t want this. I just want him to be okay.”

Her mother joined in, holding her fast. It was hopeless.

A rustle in the air caught her attention, and she turned to the ridge overlooking the mine to find it thick with wolves and people. Half the town must be there. The ones in human form headed down to join her family on the mostly empty lot.

While her mom and Miss Bonnie were distracted, Mary pictured her sleek gray wolf. It lowered its snout to her and instantly she felt herself change.

She hadn’t shifted many times. But this time it came easy — maybe because she needed it to be.

Time slowed down.

Mary dove between Miss Bonnie’s legs and out into the open space at the mouth of the mine. She splayed her paws to stop herself from sliding out of control on the gravel.

The smells of the mine overpowered her wolf nose, and Mary struggled to focus on Erik’s smell. It was a spicy amber scent, and once she had it, it was easy to follow.

Suddenly, something big landed on her back.

Another wolf had her by the scruff.

She tried to shake it off, but it held fast.

A second wolf landed on her back.

Desperately, Mary snapped at them. But she knew already it was useless. Her tail fell between her legs.

The spicy scent vanished into the mouth of the mine.

Mary lifted her snout and howled mournfully.

The night air filled with echoes of her song. Every wolf in Copper Creek had joined her in her pain.

She sighed and felt herself slide back into the form of a girl again.

Instantly, the jaws on her neck were gone.

Her mother licked her cheek once with a raspy tongue, before shifting back to human herself, and wrapping Mary in her arms.

“This had better work,” Miss Bonnie hissed, the moment she had shifted back.

“The cave-in’s already blocking off the section of the mine where Jake and the boys were. What’s Erik going to do that hasn’t already been done?” LeeAnn whispered back over Mary’s shoulder.

Before anyone could answer, an earth-moving rumble tore through the ground. Mary felt the earth come up to meet her, and her naked hip hit the gravel hard enough to bruise.

The twins began to cry, and the wolves on the ridge stirred nervously.

Mary looked up to see smoke pouring out of the mouth of the mine.

“What happened?” she whispered, not expecting an answer.

The crowd behind them began to buzz.

“That crazy son of a bitch opened the east branch!” Ted Mullin’s voice lifted over the crowd.

“What?” a woman’s voice asked.

“The gas. He lit the gas,” yelled another man’s voice.

“That thing will burn for a hundred years. What are we supposed to do now?” Jimmy Brewer shouted.

“We can’t mine anymore,” said another voice. It was Mr. Kirkland, one of the foremen.

“Without that mine, this town is doomed,” a woman’s low voice carried across the night air.

Mary felt the weight of a new anger pull at her shoulders.

“He just put an end to Copper Creek!” screamed another voice.

Enough.

Mary stood, feeling taller than the mountains.

“Shut up!” she screamed.

Silence, sudden and complete, blanketed the crowd. The eyes of the whole town bore down on her.

Just yesterday, she would have been ashamed to stand naked and dirty before a single person. And now she stood proud, letting the cold wind whip her hair and buffet her body. Since her first change, she hadn’t needed her glasses anymore. But she had hid behind them anyway, they were another layer between Mary and the world. Now they were broken somewhere in the gravel, and she was glad.

“You shut your mouth, Jimmy Brewer,” she shouted. “And you too Mr. Kirkland.”

Her voice had taken on a deeper quality that frightened her, but excited her all the same.

The men sensed the power behind her words, or the fallacy in their own, and looked at their feet.

“The man that just went into that mine is a hero to this town,” she said. “Just like my daddy. Don’t you ever forget that. Anyone that says different is going to have to answer to me.”

It was a silly thing for a fifteen year old to say — she knew that. But no one questioned her. She could feel the fire in her own eyes as she held the pack in her gaze.

A murmur of excitement rippled through the crowd. They began to point and crane their necks to look past her.

Mary whipped around to face the mine. Something was coming out.

If Erik had failed, and the creature, whatever it was, had gotten loose, they were all doomed. Mary headed toward the entrance, a low growl building in her throat. If the thing was going to kill her, she would die spitting in its miserable eye.

A blackened body half-crawled, half dragged itself toward her.

Erik.

Oh god, it was Erik.

Mary broke into a run. Her mother and Miss Bonnie moved aside for her immediately this time, then fell into step behind her.

She bolted for Erik. He collapsed onto his chest, and rolled onto his back before she made it there. The coppery odor of his blood and the terrifying breath of the fire poured off him. Only a tiny sigh of his spicy amber scent still clung to him.

Mary dropped to her knees. She felt someone wrap a blanket around her shoulders and didn’t bother to look up.

She gazed into Erik’s perfect eyes. His body was horribly burned, charred in some places, but his eyes had been mostly spared.

She slid his head gently into her lap and cradled him. He was badly hurt, but she knew he would shift and heal quickly. And she wanted to stroke his fur and comfort him when that happened.

He didn’t shift. Instead, his breath grew shallow.

“Why isn’t he healing? Why doesn’t he shift?” She looked around frantically.

“Because he can’t,” Miss Bonnie said softly from her place at Mary’s shoulder. “He’s not a wolf.”

“What do you mean, he’s not a wolf?” Mary asked, knowing already that the librarian was right.

“Bad people,” Miss Bonnie explained. “People who want that thing in the mine to get free, took his wolf away.”

“Nooo,” Mary howled. “Please don’t go, please.”

She begged, tears streaking down her dirty cheeks as she rocked him desperately. If only she were a grown-up and not a kid. She might know what to do.

But she didn’t know what to do. And Erik wasn’t a wolf. He was just a person, a good person who cared about her family. And he was dying.

Mary leaned in close, her eyes hungrily taking in a last glimpse of the man she would never forget. The man who was not a wolf, yet somehow more of a wolf than any of them.

Someone turned on a spotlight over the site, illuminating him in her arms.

Mary’s vision blurred as her tears dripped onto his charred flesh. The too-bright light stung her wet eyes, forming a golden halo around Erik.

It was right that he should look like an angel. He had saved them. He should have been their alpha.

His chest rattled with what she knew would be his last breath.

“I love you, Erik Jensen,” she whispered. “You will always be my alpha.”

CHAPTER 15

Grace’s body felt somehow unbearably hollow and impossibly heavy at the same time.

Only the mantra of her police training kept her going.

Do not replay the incident mentally.

Do take deep breaths.

Do not allow yourself to become distracted imagining possible future outcomes.

Do focus on staying safe now.

But her mind stuttered like a broken projector, hung up on the image of Julian disappearing into the red light.

Cressida followed her in silence.

At last, they emerged from the darkness of the woods.

As they approached the intersection of Yale, Grace noticed the excited crowd in the pools of radiance from the overhead streetlights. For a moment, she panicked, thinking that the moroi had already created terror in Tarker’s Hollow.

The squeals of laugher reminded her that it was Halloween. This was the parade from the Community Center through the local businesses.

Her stomach turned as she envisioned that thing tearing through the giddy group of children and parents.

She and Cressida picked up the pace, and crossed Yale. They were wet, dirty and terrified, and the small downtown was packed. Grace tried to imagine what she would say if someone tried to greet them.

They passed the pastry shop and art studio without drawing any attention. There was a crowd outside Coslaw & Associates, where Minnie Henderson gave out candy. Minnie was still tall and thin with a touch of hippie glamour — just as she’d been when Grace and Ainsley were kids.

Grace fought a wave of nausea as she pictured her best friend’s stone cold expression in the cave below town. The expression that said she was willing to watch Grace die.

Grace could hardly blame her, really, she respected Ainsley for making a choice for the greater good. But did she have to make it look so... easy?

“...no, I have no idea where Charley is, Marge. This is his favorite night of the year,” Minnie was saying. She shook her auburn head, jingling the tiny bells in her dangly earrings.

Well, Grace had a pretty good idea of where Charley was. He wasn’t going to be giving out any more candy.

She and Cressida made it across the lawn of the library and into the lower level entrance to the Tarker’s Hollow Police Station uncontested.

The door stood intact, so Grace figured the moroi probably hadn’t arrived. That meant Ainsley was headed for trouble. They would have to join her, but Grace had business here first.

She stormed inside, past the bulletin board and the reception area.

“Gracie?” Dale called to her.

She didn’t break her stride, though she had to avert her eyes as she passed the Interrogation Room. Thinking about her night there with Julian wasn’t going to help her now.

Cressida still followed a step behind. She hadn’t said a word on their trip into town. That was for the best. Grace didn’t feel much like talking at the moment.

She found strange comfort in the presence of the silent she-wolf. Grace was numb with grief and Cressida didn’t give a flying fuck. Together they were a force to be reckoned with.

“Why are you all wet?” Dale continued, trotting after them, his voice at a higher pitch.

Grace unlocked the armory closet and grabbed a 9mm pistol. She checked it, though there was no need. All the weapons in the Tarker’s Hollow PD armory were kept clean and loaded. She saw to that personally. It was perfect.

She locked the door behind her out of habit, and continued toward the holding area.

“What are you doing?” Dale tried again.

“Go back to the desk, Dale.” The gravel in her voice surprised her, and must have told Dale she meant business, because he headed in the other direction immediately.

Grace reached Garrett’s cell.

He stood in the middle of the space, cradling the stump of his right arm in his left. His posture looked almost relaxed, his pale blue eyes clear. It was as if he had known she would come at this exact moment.

“Okay, Sanderson,” Grace said. “I’m going to keep this simple. The moroi ate your friend, Charley, but it’s still hungry. I think you’re going to be next. Let’s go.”

She unlocked the cell door, slid it open with a loud clang, and took a big step back, giving him room to exit.

He held eye contact with her for a long moment before shaking his head.

She lifted the gun and pointed it at him. At this range, she didn’t need to aim.

“Grace,” Cressida said softly.

“This man is the reason Julian is gone,” Grace said firmly. “He is going to pay, one way or the other.”

She thumbed back the hammer of the gun. Garrett remained in place. She would rather he met the same fate as his friend, but she was ready to send him to hell if he didn’t move.

“This isn’t you, Officer Kwan-Cortez,” Cressida said, trying to remind her of her duty. “You don’t need this on your conscience.”

“Stay out of this,” Grace warned her.

Cressida sighed, and moved into the path of the firearm, right outside the doorway to the cell.

“You are a good person, Grace. Maybe the only one of us who still is. Don’t throw that away on this dirtbag.”

Grace stared at her, unblinking.

“You can put the gun down now,” Cressida told her.

“I can’t,” Grace replied.

“It’s okay,” Cressida said, in a voice that was almost gentle. “Really.”

“No, no, I mean I can’t,” Grace said, panic creeping into her voice. “I can’t move.”

Below them, intricate runes scrawled on the linoleum floor in what looked like blood began to glow and pulse.

How had she not noticed them?

“Shit,” Cressida hissed. “I can’t either.”

Behind her wolf companion, Garrett regarded them with a smug smile.

“Sorry, Officer Kwan-Cortez,” Garrett said, in that annoying, slow voice. “I think I will be taking my leave of you now.”

He moved closer to Cressida, but instead of slipping past her and exiting the cell, he paused behind her and leaned close.

“It is a pity, though,” He whispered in Cressida’s ear as his good hand stroked her damp hair. “I would enjoy getting to know you better.”

“You know,” he teased, meeting Grace’s gaze over Cressida’s shoulder. “The way I did with your other friend, Lilliana?”

The air crackled with the electricity of Grace’s hatred.

Praying to her abuelo for strength, Grace focused all her rage into a tiny pinpoint.

Her finger moved a hair.

Please, just a little more.

The gunshot thundered, deafening in the small space.

CHAPTER 16

A insley flew through the woods, Ophelia’s pull on her strengthening as she closed the distance between them.

Her paws kicked up the scent of the rich soil, and the underbrush scratched her pelt with reaching fingers.

In wolf form, Ainsley usually had the simple pleasure of knowing she was doing exactly what she should. But tonight, an unfamiliar note of wrongness sounded just loud enough to be heard through the rhythm of her running.

The magnetism of Ophelia’s call intensified, and Ainsley found herself bursting out of the woods and into Erik’s field. The tall grasses tickled her snout as she bounded toward her alpha.

But she sensed that something wasn’t right.

Ainsley could just see Ophelia’s pale forehead above the grass, and her dark hair swirling in the breeze.

With one last delirious burst of speed, Ainsley sailed over the grasses and landed on splayed legs before her.

Ophelia sat in the grass, naked. She smelled of blood, and fighting.

Ophelia reached out a beckoning hand to Ainsley.

Ainsley obliged immediately by shifting into human form.

Her vision expanded, her other senses receded, and instantly, the details began to arrange themselves.

Ophelia was, bruised and battered, but still in one piece. She must have shifted and fought, but somehow been spared by the moroi.

Could she have beaten it?

Ainsley thought of Ophelia’s performance in the battle with Garret and Charley. If anyone could handle the moroi single handedly, it would be Ophelia.

Ainsley lowered herself onto her hands and knees in the tall grass, intoxicatingly close to the powerful fallen alpha.

Ophelia dragged herself closer still and collapsed into Ainsley’s arms.

Every cell in Ainsley’s body stood at attention, the feeling of actually holding her alpha in her arms should have been overwhelming. But it wasn’t, at least not in the way she would have expected. Instead, she began to feel dreamy.

“What happened?” Ainsley whispered.

“The moroi came. We fought. It drained a lot of my energy, but I defeated it. It will not be harming anyone else.” Ophelia replied with quiet satisfaction.

She made it sound so simple.

Ainsley fought to think through the haze of her submission.

Maybe they had all been a little too worked up about this thing. There certainly hadn’t been alphas as powerful as Ophelia around when the moroi had been locked up in the first place.

“Let’s get you inside,” she murmured in Ophelia’s ear.

“No. I just need a few minutes to gather my strength,” Ophelia said, pinching Ainsley’s shoulder with hard fingers, then squeezing herself more completely into Ainsley’s arms.

“Fine,” Ainsley said, a little taken aback.

Ophelia tilted her head up to gaze at Ainsley. Her eyes were always dark, but tonight they were like black liquid pools.

“You did very well today, Ainsley,” Ophelia murmured.

A lingering warmth spread through Ainsley’s chest. It was a bit like the last time she had pleased Ophelia, but this time there was no tingle of submissive attraction.

“I’m proud of the way you handled yourself,” Ophelia purred, snuggling so close she practically melted into Ainsley’s lap.

The incredible, comforting warmth spread through Ainsley’s whole body. The tall grasses around them fell away, then Erik’s house, then all of Tarker’s Hollow grew distant and unimportant. Only Ophelia’s warm praise, and the midnight pools of her eyes remained.

Ainsley’s submission had never allowed her to gaze unfettered at Ophelia’s eyes before. They were lovely. And Ainsley was so tired. It would feel so good just to rest with her alpha now.

Just for a minute.

A fierce snarl rent the air, knocking Ophelia out of her arms.

As soon as their physical contact broke, Ainsley snapped to full alertness.

A slender, silvery wolf circled Ophelia, hackles raised.

Cressida.

The moonlight lit up her lustrous pelt, making her look almost ghostly.

Ainsley tried to stand, but her legs gave out, and she slumped back into the grass. What had Ophelia done to her?

She lifted her palms to the air and called to her energy. A few blue sparks bounced half-heartedly in her hands.

Desperately, Ainsley tried to make contact with the pack. Come to me!

But she felt no answering call. In fact, she could barely sense her pack at all.

The crunch of running footsteps approached from the woods at her back.

CHAPTER 17

Grace couldn’t shift, but she was fast.

She tailed Cressida as closely as she could through the trees. Branches whipped her face, but she ran on, doing her best to navigate the gnarled tree roots and loose stones.

She would feel this tomorrow, but tomorrow didn’t matter anymore, now that—

Grace pushed thoughts of Julian from her mind.

She could just see the moonlight on the grass through the last of the trees, when she heard Cressida snarl. She pushed hard and burst out of the woods.

Grace struggled to get her mind around the scene that greeted her.

Cressida circled the naked and battered-looking Ophelia, hackles raised and growling. Ainsley sat in grass nearby, a lost look on her face. She didn’t have any clothes on either.

“What’s going on?” Grace asked, rushing to her friend. “Why is Cressida fighting Ophelia?”

Ainsley opened and closed her mouth several times, but no sound came out. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and tried again.

“That’s not Ophelia,” she managed.

“Nad-Loo-Shee!” Ophelia said, in a voice that sounded like several voices layered over each other, then spat at Cressida.

Even Grace knew that was a mistake. It didn’t matter that Ophelia wasn’t Ophelia, or that she sounded like a Greek chorus. What little she knew of Cressida told her that the she-wolf wouldn’t put up with being spat on.

Cressida lowered her silvery head and charged directly for the thing that was not Ophelia.

Not-Ophelia cringed.

Cressida froze.

Not-Ophelia backed up slowly.

Cressida shifted.

She was so utterly naked that it took a moment for Grace to notice that she also had one eyebrow raised.

Grace would never understand how these wolves could just be naked in front of each other, and apparently everyone else. If she had to shift, she’d definitely invent some kind of inter-species clothing to avoid the sudden nudity.

Though at this point she was beginning to feel over-dressed.

“She’s afraid of me? Cressida asked. “What the hell?”

“Ainsley?” Grace asked.

“Kill her,” Ainsley said immediately.

Grace drew her weapon and advanced on Not Ophelia.

The edges of the creature began to shimmer, then it melted into another shape.

It was Charley Coslaw, right down to the brown corduroys. At least he was dressed.

Julian had told her the moroi could take the form of creatures it fed on, but she hadn’t expected the results to be so uncanny.

“Grace,” he said, hands raised, “you’ve known me all your life. Can’t we find a way to work this out?”

She shot him directly between the eyes.

The bullet simply disappeared.

Charley smiled.

Grace unloaded the gun into him.

He smiled again.

“I expected more from you,” he said, as his edges began to shimmer.

The next moment he was a gigantic grey wolf.

The wolf turned back to Cressida.

Cressida melted into her slender wolf, and lowered herself on splayed paws, ready to dodge.

The larger wolf charged, and Cressida darted away. It charged again. Again, she sailed away.

Grace could see that Cressida was no match for the larger wolf. She might use her agility for some time to escape, but eventually it would wear her down.

They were far from the station, Ainsley was sitting weakly on the ground. By the time back-up arrived they might all be dead.

And Grace had no power to hurt the thing.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to think of something.

Something tugged at her.

At first, it was a tiny, tingling pull at the corner of her mind — similar to the electric sensation she had when Julian touched her.

Then, the buzz spread through her whole body, and quickly receded from all but one spot.

The shard of the key.

She slipped her hand into her pocket and felt the key launch itself into her palm. It crackled with magic.

Good magic.

But could she control it?

It cried out to her to be shaped.

Grace focused on the shard. As it began to warm in her hand, Cressida yelped, and her concentration was broken.

“No,” Grace whispered to herself. “Focus.”

Light, as black as Ophelia’s obsidian eyes, began to pour from the crystalline shape in her palm.

As Grace moved her hand back and forth, the light began to solidify and take shape.

Grace redoubled her efforts, guiding and coaxing the light. In her mind’s eye, she could clearly see what the key wanted to be.

She closed her eyes, willing the shape from her mind to her hand.

When she opened them, she held a curved, obsidian sword.

Grace looked up to a terrible sound as the giant wolf pinned Cressida on her back.

Without a second thought, Grace launched herself at the larger wolf and slashed at its back for all she was worth.

The magical sword winked as its arc cut through the moonlight, then sliced into the evil wolf’s pelt.

The moroi-wolf fell off of Cressida, howling in agony.

Cressida hobbled away, dragging herself closer to Ainsley.

Grace took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. It was up to her now. She would defeat this thing, or join her beloved.

The moroi-wolf snapped at her with impossible speed.

Grace lifted the heavy blade just in time.

Again it howled.

Suddenly, the hollow feeling Grace had been fighting was filled with furious energy, like molten steel. Instead of waiting for the thing to attack again, she went after it with vicious intent, slashing and stabbing.

The wolf backed away. Grace cut again and again, until they reached the edge of the bamboo forest that led down to the creek.

The wolf fell, defeated.

Grace stood over it, sword raised, ready to deliver the killing blow.

Its edges blurred once more, and Grace caught her breath as she recognized the familiar yellow raincoat.

Lilliana.

For one horrible second, Grace hesitated.

“I came to you for help,” Lilliana said in a tremulous voice. “You let them kill me.”

Grace lowered her sword.

Lilliana withered before her into the dried up husk they had found under the field house. The form began to crack. Pieces of Lilliana’s cheeks crumbled away, then the rest of her crumbled too. The debris that had been Lilliana morphed into a thousand tiny red snakes that darted into the bamboo before Grace could react.

Cursing herself inwardly for her weakness, Grace slashed desperately at the bamboo, but the little snakes were gone.

The moment she stopped wielding it, the sword shrank back into the shard of a crystal key.

She placed it carefully in her pocket and walked slowly back to her friends.

Cressida curled around Ainsley’s limp body.

“Is she okay?” Grace asked.

Cressida nodded.

“Just passed out, it looks like.”

“What about you?” Grace asked.

“Banged up, but okay. You?” Cressida asked lightly.

Incredibly weak and stupid.

“I’m fine,” Grace said quickly. “How did you know it wasn’t Ophelia?”

“How did you not?” Cressida asked.

“I can’t believe I let it get away,” Grace said softly.

“I can’t believe you shot me.” Cressida replied.

“It’s not like it was silver,” Grace said. “You got better.”

Indeed, there wasn’t even a scar on Cressida’s shoulder from where Grace had shot through her to kill Garrett.

“What do we do now?” Cressida asked.

“Let’s start by getting her home,” Grace answered.

It had been a long, horrible night. To her credit, Cressida nodded and hopped up.

Each of them slipped an arm around Ainsley and headed toward her house.

CHAPTER 18

A insley drifted in and out of fever-dreams.

She dreamed of all things wolf and woman, but twisted, and terrible.

She ran through the bamboo forest on wounded paws.

She baked a cake and frosted it with ashes.

She howled at a blood-red moon.

And all the time she was searching, tracking the pull of her mate. But he was nowhere to be found.

An oven glowed orange, singeing her snout.

A child cried out in anguish.

And Ainsley dreamed on...

A few times the fever released her from its grip to toss her casually in its hand. During those cool moments of flight, she heard snippets of the waking world.

“—no, Grace, she’ll be fine,” Thad Volker said, like they’d been talking a long time already. “She just needs to rest.”

“Did it really kill Ophelia—” MacGregor’s soft voice began.

But Ainsley never heard the rest.

She was already walking barefoot in an endless blueberry patch, plastic pail on a string around her neck, searching for a ripe berry in the wintertime.

“Ainsley,” sang the rich oboe of her mother’s voice.

Ainsley turned quickly.

Her parents stood between two rows of blueberry bushes. They wore fluffy white bathrobes. Mrs. Connor held their old cat, Mr. Purrington, in her arms, stroking him slowly. The air filled with the scent of the gingerbread they used to bake on rainy days.

Ainsley tried not to cry.

“We’re so proud of you Ainsley,” her father smiled, with that twinkle in his eye. Then he quoted Dostoyevsky. “The soul is healed by being with children.”

The air went cold and a huge rumble shook the ground.

Ainsley crouched into her fiery wolf, and spun to see the world melt into darkness.

A single light harshly illuminated a man with golden hair.

He looked up and smiled at her, blue eyes flashing in the spotlight.

Julian.

But why was he happy?

“Ainsley Connor,” Ophelia Winter boomed.

Ainsley blinked and the alpha was before her.

“Your pack has failed in its duty,” she scolded. “There is nothing left for the wolves of Tarker’s Hollow. And there is no new blood to give you strength. I cast you out.”

At these words, Ainsley felt herself forcibly shifted back into her human form. She was naked, humiliated, and her soul was shattered.

“Ainsley,” Erik whispered. “Oh, Ainsley.”

She closed her eyes and followed his voice with every fiber of her mind.

No. Please, no.

If Erik had joined the parade of visiting ghosts, it meant he was dead, too.

If Erik was really gone, she would never go back to the cool brightness of the real world. She would rather chase the ghost of him through this purgatory forever.

She sensed his presence nearby. Something had changed about him. Though she knew it was impossible, she swore she could feel his touch.

His fingers slid through her hair, tugging it gently at her temple as he always did. She could feel the tickle of his rough calluses on her skin, and smell the rich spice of him.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

“I missed you too,” she whispered back through tears, not daring to open her eyes.

The world shook and then he was holding her, curled around her, his chest to her back. He felt so warm, so real. As always, his touch sucked away her sadness like a sponge.

She opened her eyes, praying for the vision to continue just a little more.

They were in her parents’ bed. Soft light poured through the sheers, just like a real afternoon, in her real home.

She knew if she rolled over to look at him directly, he would be gone, but she couldn’t help herself.

When she turned, he didn’t vanish. Instead, he gazed directly into her eyes with a smoking intensity. He was her Erik, but not the same Erik. Not exactly. He was taller or stronger, or maybe smarter. Though he had always been all of those things.

She searched his face, desperately trying to memorize him, to learn each tiny wrinkle near his eyes, every hair on his shadowed jaw, before the vision of this moment melted into another.

He lowered his face to hers and she gave up and let him kiss her.

His lips were so warm and soft. She shivered as they brushed hers, so gently, too gently.

Ainsley knew it was only her broken heart, telling her that this was real, but she was so starved for her mate that even a whisper of him was enough. A welcome warmth settled into her as he kissed away her sorrow.

When their lips were raw, he nuzzled her neck. Every nerve ending in her body thrummed with life.

She felt the rough warmth of his big hand, snaking under her nightgown. The pleasure of his hand on her breast was almost an agony. Ainsley could feel the blood rush to her nipple as his palm brushed against it.

She moaned and leaned into him, wishing she could literally press herself into him, and inhabit his body with him, so that they could never be separated again.

Erik sighed happily and his hand moved lower to curl around her hip, and pull her closer.

Soon Ainsley’s whole body was warm with lust. Erik nuzzled between her breasts, breathing soft kisses against them.

She arched up to meet his mouth and he suckled lazily on one nipple, then the other.

Soon, she felt the brush of his stubble against her belly. It brought tears to her eyes all over again, though she didn’t know why. Maybe it was because he was the only man who’d ever insisted on access to this softest part of Ainsley’s body, the part that she’d sucked in and cursed all her life.

And then she felt his hot breath on her thighs.

Slowly, so slowly, he pulled her panties down around her ankles.

Ainsley shivered in anticipation.

Erik groaned as he nuzzled her thighs again.

Holding her breath, Ainsley prayed that he wouldn’t disappear.

Instead of disappearing, he nudged her thighs wide, and began to pleasure her.

The movement of his mouth against her was a revelation, a symphony. Ainsley lost herself in the beauty of it.

Just before the crescendo, he crawled up to cage her head between his arms.

“I love you, Ainsley,” he whispered. “I love you and I’ll never let you go.”

“Erik,” she sighed.

When he sank into her she gasped at the reality of it. There was the pinching sensation at his incredible girth, the stretching pleasure, the delirious satisfaction of his weight on top of her - knowing he was holding her, losing himself in her.

He thrust slowly, whispering her name.

She wept and clung to him, for once not rushing him.

They made love as though they were delicate, as though they were people - not wolves.

And when it was over, Ainsley fell into a deep sleep.

CHAPTER 19

A insley awoke some hours later, as the sunlight from the window faded to pink.

Wistfully, she thought of her dream. Oh god, it had seemed so real.

With all her heart she wished it had just been a dream, but she had been visited by ghosts before.

She stretched, and rolled over.

Erik lay in the bed next to her. His eyes were closed, eyelashes brushing his cheeks in sleep.

Ainsley froze wondering if she were still asleep.

She didn’t feel asleep.

She sat up and looked around.

The room looked completely normal. There were no fuzzy edges at the corners. The temperature felt normal.

She felt awake.

Movement caught the corner of her eye. Erik rolled over to reach for the place where she had been sleeping.

He uttered a soft, sad sound as his hand touched her empty pillow. The noise seemed to wake him, and he looked up, blinking.

When he saw her, his eyes crinkled in a big smile.

“Say something,” Ainsley breathed.

“Good morning to you, too,” he said, one eyebrow raised.

A lightning bolt of joy electrified Ainsley and she fell on him, covering him with kisses.

“Gently,” he teased.

“I thought you were a ghost!” she accused him, pulling back to look into his laughing eyes, before pressing her mouth to his cheek again.

“What?” he asked.

“Never mind,” she muttered into his neck. “I missed you so much!”

“I can see that,” he said, smiling that heart-melting smile. “Sounds like you had some fun while I was away.”

A stormy look furrowed Ainsley’s brow.

“Ophelia said if I was an alpha in the wild, I would mate with as many wolves as I wanted,” she told him. “But I just wanted you.”

“You know actual wolves mate for life, right?” he asked.

“What?” Ainsley studied his eyes. Was he joking?

“Have you ever read a book about real wolves?” he asked her. “Or, like, looked them up online somewhere?”

“Shut up!” she said, and covered his mouth with her own.

He kissed her back, with a passion that belied his laid back demeanor.

“Ainsley,” he said, pulling back to look into her eyes again.

“I choose you,” she said. “For life. Whether you are a wolf or not. The Federation can go fuck themselves if they have a problem with that.”

“About that...” he began, but didn’t finish.

“What?” she asked.

She searched his eyes for answers. A flash of lupine amber made her heat skip a beat.

His wolf!

“No... But, how did you—?”

“It’s a long story,” he said, running a hand through his too-long hair. “And there are some people you need to meet.”

“Well, you can tell me all about it. If you can catch me,” Ainsley laughed.

She closed her eyes and called to her flame colored wolf.

Instantly, she melted into the silken animal, and splayed her front paws, tail in the air, taunting him.

Erik dropped into a shining black wolf so enormous he seemed to dwarf the room, and leapt after her.

Ainsley managed to sail over the bed just in time. She thundered sideways down the narrow stair case, skittered on the hardwood landing, and bolted out onto the back porch.

She heard him land in the grass behind her as she flew over the white picket fence and crashed into the woods.

If she made it to their place in the woods before he caught her, she would return to her human, and make love with him again in the pine needles under the gaze of their sycamore.

CHAPTER 20

A insley sat, basking in the quiet contentment.

Considering how much of her life was currently in turmoil, she knew she had no business doing so, but somehow, on this night, she was at peace.

Maybe it was the warm mug of peppermint tea snuggled in her right hand, or Erik gently gripping her left and rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. Or maybe it was the fact that her parents’ house seemed filled with life, for the first time since she came back to Tarker’s Hollow.

“Cah-MILLL-ahhhhh!” Rachel practically squealed, pigtails waiving with each syllable.

The Miller twins, and Zeke, thundered through her living room, chasing Camilla Parker Bowles. A few seconds later, they stormed through again, the small dog chasing them this time. Camilla’s owner, Sadie Epstein-Walker, had left the dog in Ainsley’s care while she visited her daughter in Boston for the holidays.

“Be gentle with her, kids!” LeeAnn called.

The children slowed down, and Camilla Parker Bowles launched herself in the air to land in LeeAnn’s lap.

LeeAnn Miller was curled up in Ainsley’s father’s chair, looking about as relaxed as Ainsley had ever seen her. Those tired gray eyes sparkled, and Ainsley knew LeeAnn too well now to think that it had anything to do with the glass of red wine on the table beside her.

“Zeke, get the thing out of Mama’s purse,” LeeAnn said to her son as she stroked the little dog.

He nodded and scampered off. A moment later, he returned with a small package wrapped in butcher paper and tied with a pink ribbon.

“This is for you, Ainsley,” LeeAnn said with a smile.

“Oh, LeeAnn,” Ainsley scolded. “You didn’t have to bring me anything.”

“After the Thanksgiving dinner you threw for us,” LeeAnn said. “And the way you’ve taken the pack in, found us homes, helped us get back on our feet...”

Ainsley reached out and placed her hand on LeeAnn’s.

“You’ve been through so much.” Ainsley didn’t say Jakes’s name, though it rang through her pause. “Our allegiance with your pack may be the only thing keeping the Tarker’s Hollow wolves in Pennsylvania. I know the Federation doesn’t support it , and I know you lost a lot of good wolves from Copper Creek. But I thank you and yours for joining us, LeeAnn.”

“MacGregor says this has never been done before,” Erik said musingly, in a way that reminded Ainsley of her father’s warm contemplative tone. “Mixing two different packs, with two different alphas.”

Erik didn’t remember much about when his alpha had been drawn. By all accounts, he had been in pretty bad shape. But LeeAnn had told Ainsley the whole story. Ainsley had been overcome with gratitude at the impossible truth that her mate was alive and home, and wonder at the unconventional way his alpha had been drawn.

Though it might be viewed with suspicion by the Federation, no one could see the unique bond between Erik and Mary and believe it had been anything other than what it was: a sort of immaculate conception of choosing. A drawing born of necessity.

Mary’s love for Erik was unquestionable, even though it was certainly not the type of love usually associated with the drawing of an alpha. The surprising news had everyone buzzing, and had caused plenty of folks to rethink their ideas of how an alpha came to be.

Ainsley would never know whether the strength of Mary’s drawing gave Erik back his wolf, of if it had more to do with the death of Garrett Sanderson, the man who took it in the first place. She was more than happy to omit that little piece of information in her official reports to the Federation. Only a handful of people ever knew about Erik losing his wolf. As far as Ainsley was concerned that was just fine.

“Well, with all that’s happened, I think combining forces is the least of our worries,” LeeAnn said firmly.

“I finished!” Mary said, clutching a book to her chest and making a beeline down the stairs to Ainsley.

“What did you think?” Ainsley asked.

Mary had been reading The Once and Future King.

“I like the first part better than the second part,” Mary said.

“Honey,” LeeAnn said. “I need to talk with Ainsley for a few minutes. Can you have your book talk later?”

“Sure,” Mary nodded at her mom, then turned to Ainsley. “Can I read this one? It’s got lots of writing and underlines in it.”

Ainsley could tell by the worn brown cover that Mary held her father’s favorite copy of The Brothers Karamazov.

“Yes, just take it slow and put it away for later if it’s too hard. The beginning is supposed to be funny, okay? So don’t be surprised.”

The girl nodded and fell onto the carpet at Ainsley’s feet, her nose already deep in the book.

Ainsley reached down to twirl Mary’s messy blonde ponytail around one of her fingers and the girl leaned back companionably against Ainsley’s shin.

LeeAnn reached over her daughter’s head to hand Ainsley the little package.

“I made it myself,” she said proudly.

Ainsley smiled and pulled the ribbon. Nestled in the brown paper was something small and pink. Ainsley couldn’t see anymore, as her eyes filled with tears.

Erik saved her, pulling the tiny dress from her hands.

“LeeAnn, it’s beautiful. But how did you know?” he asked.

“I just knew,” she said simply, as if that was all the explanation required. “And I’m just sure it’s going to be a little girl.”

Ainsley’s hands went to her middle, and the new life growing there. Besides Erik, only Grace and Cressida knew.

“Are you really going to have a baby?” Mary asked.

Ainsley smiled and nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Can I babysit?” Mary asked in delight.

“I’m sure she can’t wait to meet her Aunt Mary,” Ainsley said.

“If she gets to be Aunt Mary, then I want to be Uncle Zeke!” Zeke exploded off the ground where he and the twins had been putting together a puzzle. Rachel and Ruth followed him.

“Can I be Uncle Rachel?”

“And I want to be Princess Esmeralda!” Ruth declared.

The front door burst open, cutting off the chatter, and a rush of cold air filled the room. Grace and Cressida bustled in together, arguing good-naturedly.

“I’m telling you, they’re supposed to be funny,” Cressida insisted. “There is no way anyone would ever be afraid of a guy in a hockey mask with claws for fingers.”

“First of all,” Grace said, squatting to pat Camilla Parker Bowles, who had launched herself off LeeAnn’s lap to flop down at Grace’s feet. “Those are two different guys, and the claws are on a glove. And secondly, not everyone can turn into a giant wolf whenever they want.”

Cressida smirked and walked past the hall closet to fling her jacket on the newel post.

Once again, Ainsley was pleasantly surprised at the unlikely friendship that had formed between the two women. She figured it must have been the result of the crazy night they’d battled the moroi together. They were like old war buddies.

“Hi, Grace,” Ainsley said, moving to greet them.

Grace wrapped her small arms around Ainsley and squeezed her a little too tightly.

“Everything okay?” Ainsley whispered.

“Yeah,” Grace replied. “I think it really is.”

Her voice sounded good, more relaxed than it had in the last month.

Ainsley had worried. A lot. She knew from her best friend’s prominent cheekbones that she’d been missing meals, and maybe not sleeping either.

But tonight Grace seemed at peace. Maybe it was something in the air.

“Tea?” Ainsley asked.

“Not tonight,” Grace told her. “Let’s go sit, bring everyone in.”

Ainsley was mystified, but gestured to Erik and LeeAnn to join her in the dining room.

When they were all gathered around the table, Grace cleared her throat, then leaned in and addressed them.

“I’ve been grieving long enough. Now it’s time for action. We’re leaving, Cress and I, to hunt down the moroi and finish what we started.”

They sat in stunned silence for a moment. Ainsley had so many questions. She couldn’t decide which one to ask first. She went with the most obvious one.

“You and Cressida?”

Grace looked to Cressida, who flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder.

“You don’t really need me here.” She shrugged, glancing at the tiny pink dress Ainsley still held. “And I think this is my destiny, or whatever.”

“What do you mean?” Ainsley asked.

“Grace says it’s because of my dad,” Cressida explained with a studied nonchalance. “He was one millionth Cherokee or something, my grandpa always told me. That’s why the moroi was afraid of me. The Native Americans were the first guards.”

“Wow,” LeeAnn said. “You’re Cherokee, huh?”

Cressida smiled and nodded once.

“I think that’s awesome, Cress,” Erik said.

Ainsley tried not to notice how Cressida looked down in a pleased and submissive way at his words. It was hard to get used to Erik being an alpha, too. It sometimes seemed as though every woman in both packs was overwhelmed at his masculinity.

As if he had read her mind, she felt his warm hand spread possessively across her back. She smiled. He really was a nice guy.

“I’ve been over Julian’s old books and journals,” Grace said, her dark eyes flashing. “And if he’s right, this thing is going to be trying to free more of its kind. Someone has to stop it. And I owe it one.”

“And someone has to keep her out of trouble,” Cressida added.

They all laughed, cutting through any trace of tension in the air.

Ainsley understood. Grace still stung over Julian, she wanted revenge. Ainsley would never try to dissuade her. Though she hoped her best friend would keep a level head.

Of course keeping a level head was what Grace always did best. And Cressida was naturally interested in following the action. They would be good out there together. They needed to do this.

Part of her envied them. The moroi was far less terrifying than the prospect of being a mother. And Grace wasn’t the only one with a score to settle with it.

But Ainsley had her hands full in Tarker’s Hollow. She and Erik needed to strengthen the bond between their two packs.

And she’d done the math. The baby had been conceived when Erik didn’t have his wolf.

Ainsley had no idea what that would mean for the baby. And no idea how they would actually make a blended pack work. Or what the Federation had planned for them.

She sensed her mate looking at her and she turned to face him.

Erik smiled at her, his amber eyes crinkling at the corners. His gaze made her feel strong and weak all at the same time.

Whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, as a family.

-THE END

THANK you so much for reading Fate of the Alpha. I can’t believe it’s over!

Of course, there is more in store for the Tarker’s Hollow gang down the road.

If you want to find out when the adventure continues, be sure to sign up for my mailing list here:

Tasha’s Mailing List

I’ll let you know when I have something new coming out, plus I do contests, sneak-peeks and freebies to reward my loyal readers. And if you made it this far, that is definitely you!

Thanks again!

x0x

-Tasha

AFTERWORD

Did you know that only about one percent of readers leave a review for the books they read?

If you enjoyed Fate of the Alpha, I invite you to become part of my One Percent Club by leaving a review.

And if you email me at AuthorTashaBlack@gmail.com to let me know when you leave a review, I’ll send a you free book!

Keep in Touch:

Be sure to sign up for my mailing list here:

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I’ll let you know when I have something new coming out. Plus you'll get the chance to read unreleased sneak previews, snag free stuff, and even make suggestions on future installments!

If you want to find out more about what else I have out now, just turn the page!

You can also check me out at:

TashaBlack.com

Drop me a line, I’d love to hear from you!

And thanks again for reading my book. As long as you keep reading them, I’ll keep writing them.

-Tasha

ALSO BY TASHA BLACK

Curse of the Alpha: The Complete Bundle

Read the series that started it all!

Ainsley Connor is determined to turn her back on her shifter past.

But the wolves of Tarker’s Hollow call on her to choose the next alpha, and Ainsley becomes the object of desire for every eligible wolf in the quiet college town.

Surrounded by seductive shifters, all desperate to claim her, Ainsley wants nothing more than to leave the pack behind forever. But her newfound passions will not be ignored.

Ainsley soon finds herself torn between the mysterious stranger with the dark secret, the gorgeous and loyal friend from her past, and the hunky sheriff that wants her all to himself.

And the shifters aren’t even the strangest part of Tarker’s Hollow.

As she struggles to come to terms with her true nature, Ainsley is thrust into the center of a steamy web of shifters, ghosts, witches and warlocks, caught up in a life-and-death struggle for control of the pack she tried to abandon.

But for Ainsley Connor, the toughest wolf she must face might just be the one inside herself.

Winter Heat:

Set in Bella Andre’s Game for Love world, Winter Heat is the story of a young artist that falls for a bad-boy snowboarder with a dark secret. If think you know enough about me by now to take a guess at the secret, you might be surprised!