"What is it? Who does he sense now?" Branson asked.
I shook my head, dropping to my knees in front of Hollister as I attempted to discern the words he whispered.
It wasn't words. It was a word. Stop.
"He's had enough." I grabbed his wrist, but his grip was too strong. He'd cut his palm on the jagged edges where the handle had been, and though he bled, he refused to let go. He chanted louder, the word growing more panicked with each repetition.
"Stop, stop, stop!"
"Get it out of his hands!" Branson shouted.
"I don't want to hurt him." I couldn't pull any harder. If I did with the grip he had, his fingers were liable to snap off.
"Find something to pry under his fingers," Paul urged, searching around his person.
We didn't have time for that. I covered Hollister's hands with mine, easily overlapping his fingers as I pressed in, distributing the weight evenly around the mug. It crumbled beneath our combined strength. As the pieces fell from our hands, Hollister slumped forward.
I caught him, holding his trembling body tightly. "Get the doctor."
"No," Hollister whimpered. "I'm okay. Just give me a second." He exhaled roughly. "That was—whew. More than one. More than two."
"And you think each person you sensed had a hand in the murder?" Paul asked.
Hollister didn't need time to think about it. "Yes. If not directly responsible, then they helped. I'm pretty sure he was poisoned." He grimaced. "Over a period of time, if that makes sense."
No one was eager to connect the dots Hollister had given us out loud.
Except Paul. "The Elders murdered Alpha Walker?"
"I had no idea," Julie whispered. "I swear. I have served Alpha Walker tea, hundreds of times. Most of us had. When Alpha Walker died, I lived with Nana. I'd been all but excommunicated from the Elder council by that point."
"No one suspects it was you," Paul assured her.
Outside, a car approached quickly. The tires had no sooner stopped than did the doors open, slamming shut immediately after.
"Paul!" Tyrone yelled. "Alpha Tyson!"
I carried Hollister with the others to the front of the house where we met Tyrone and Ben.
"Is he gone?" Paul asked before Tyson could speak again.
Tyson stopped suddenly, confused at how Paul already knew what he'd been about to tell them. "Yes, Glendon and Clarice as well. Kyle and Del went to search the forests around their homes, but I don't think they even went back there after the ceremony. Their scents were weak."
"Aver," Hollister whimpered, confirming he felt the same dread that had come over me.
"Wyatt and Nash will return. They'll—"
A howl ascended above the forest in the distance. At the same time, the white work van tore down the driveway.
I caught Branson's eye, and the truth of what had happened passed between us. We didn't need Wyatt and Nash to jump out and tell us anything. The children were gone.
The children were gone, and so were the Elders.
***
"They couldn't have gotten far. This is an island," Paul said, arranging the pack in groups of four. "They're panicking. We'll start here, continuing in an overlapping grid that will spiral out. If one of you picks up on their scent, alert the others and follow it. No matter where it leads you. The blessed children are our only concern right now."
Hollister sobbed into my shoulder, and he wasn't the only one. Kansas, Riley, Phin, and many of the shifters were crying too. Wyatt and Nash had brought Mrs. Boxer and Tyrone's grandmother with them. They'd been easily overpowered and had no idea where our parents had planned on taking the children.
I shouldn't have been surprised our parents could sink so low. Repeatedly, they'd proven I'd yet to witness the truth depths of their greed. Our parents would always have a leg up for that reason. None of us could even fathom the things they were capable of.
But they'd made a mistake taking the blessed children. They were miracles, every one of them, but more than that, they were a sign of hope for the pack. The ex-Elders had stolen that hope.
"If you spot them, keep your eye on them, but do not approach unless you are positive a blessed child is in immediate danger," Paul instructed.
The crescent moon shone weakly over his head. But we wouldn't need light to search. The Elders couldn't have gone far—we'd realized their deception too early—but underestimating them was a mistake, one we made over and over.
"What if we reach the end of pack lands?" someone asked. "Do we continue?"
Paul nodded decisively, his omega standing like his bodyguard beside him. "We won't stop until we find them."
Though we were a pack more than a hundred strong, the territory was vast. Searching pack lands wouldn't be so bad, but searching all of Walker County required more than the numbers we had to search thoroughly and quickly. If we were lucky and caught a scent early, that would be one thing. But I couldn't chance our children on luck.
I wasn't the only one who had come to that realization, either. Wyatt, Nash, and Riley had too.
We couldn't find them like this. Not without a miracle.
"Look!" Kansas cried out, pointing to the forest line at the edge of the lawn.
A figure emerged from the trees, the steady, purposeful gait as familiar as her wild silver hair. Nana.
She was barefoot and wore a simple brown dress. She raised her arms as we sprinted toward her. Branson reached her first, hugging her tightly, but the rest of us couldn't wait and simply added our arms to the mix. I couldn't be sure she was really here until I touched her.
"You're back!"
"The children are gone!"
"Where have you been?"
Everyone spoke so quickly their words overlapped. Nana listened, never once looking surprised or shocked. "I came as quickly as I could," she said.
Hearing her voice, after spending so long wondering if I ever would again, should have been a joyful time. When I'd imagined this moment, it had been followed by hours of calm conversation where we caught her up on all that had happened and she let us know all she'd faced out in the woods. But, if she was here, that meant the spirits had told her what was happening.
"Do you know where they are?" I asked.
Nana closed her eyes. With the heavy lines on her face, she seemed like the old woman the rest of the world saw, but I knew there was a fire in her that made her something magical. "I've seen it. The children are safe for now. I know where they're keeping them. I know what the Elders have done. To the blessed ones and to my son," she growled the word out. "We go together. As a pack."
She blinked, turning her head like someone had called her name, though no one had. "That is, if our Alpha allows it," she added with the barest hint of a smile.
"Nana, you don't need to ask," Paul said. "Wherever you lead, we will follow. A united pack." He raised his voice to be heard throughout the yard. The chilly night air made each word its own cloud. "They have taken something that belongs to us all. The blessed ones are ours to protect. We will find them. And we will avenge Alpha Walker's murder." He shifted immediately after, letting his wolf's howl carry into the night.