It was raining again. The worst kind of rain—icy cold, pouring in sheets, whipped into our faces by a spiteful wind. If it’d been a few degrees colder, it would’ve been a blizzard.
Aaron had set a punishing pace through the forest, leading us past the spot where the original attack had occurred, then on to where Kai and Ezra had found Sin. The three mages were scouting the area for signs of where to go next, while I waited with my arms wrapped around myself for warmth. I couldn’t see them through the rain and shadows, but I could hear Aaron swearing in frustration, even over the drumming patter.
Tugging my beanie lower on my head, I wondered—again—how smart this was. Gathering a team of alumni to help comb the woods would’ve been a wiser move, but when Kai had pointed that out, Aaron had refused to wait. Tobias was putting together a second team, but for now … it was just us.
“Damn it!” Aaron stomped out of the dense bush, his hiking boots squelching in the mud. Sharpie’s hilt jutted over his shoulder, waiting to be drawn. “There are tracks everywhere and I can’t find a clear trail.”
“Pretty soon there won’t be any tracks,” Kai said, slipping between two tree trunks. “The rain will wash them away in another hour.”
Nerves tightened my chest. If we couldn’t find the wolves, we couldn’t save Sin.
Aaron swore again. “This is idiotic. How hard can it be to—”
“—find a handful of wolves in miles of dense forest?” Kai interrupted sarcastically. “Not difficult at all.”
A low whistle cut through the patter of rain. Aaron and Kai snapped to attention, then hurried toward the sound. I rushed after them.
Twenty yards away, Ezra crouched in the underbrush, studying the forest floor. As we approached, he rose to his feet, water running down his face from his drenched hat.
“This pushdown is recent,” he said, gesturing to a shrub. “I found tracks on the other side.”
I squinted at the bush, tilting my head one way then the other. The foliage had a crumpled look, like something had trampled it, though I would never have noticed if Ezra hadn’t pointed it out.
“Did you find anything?” he asked the other two.
“Not a damn thing, so if you can follow this trail, let’s go!” Aaron exclaimed eagerly.
Ezra nodded and shoved through the bush. We filed after him, and within a few minutes, Ezra had led us onto a game trail. He moved quickly, eyes on the ground, occasionally crouching to check the imprints in the mud. I wanted to ask where he’d learned to track animals, but no one was speaking so I held my silence.
He paused, plucking at a clump of gray fur caught on a jagged branch, then picked up the pace. As the gap between me and Aaron widened, I gritted my teeth and jogged a few steps. Six weeks of hard training had improved my fitness level but I was no match for the guys.
They were machines. Sexy, muscly machines with everlasting batteries.
The rain lashed at my leather coat. I panted, a stitch searing my ribs. Maybe I should up my endurance training. The stitch dug deeper into my side. Yep, I definitely needed to spend more time on the treadmill. Me and the treadmill, we were like best friends who sometimes hated each other.
Actually, no. We just hated each other. No friendship involved.
Ahead, the rain blurring his form, Ezra raised his closed fist—the signal to stop. I jolted to a halt, Kai right behind me. Ezra retreated, forcing Aaron back with him, then crouched in the foliage. Aaron and Kai dropped down too, and I belatedly scooched in, missing Ezra’s first few words.
“… fifty feet ahead in the trees,” he was saying in a low voice. “I can’t tell anything else from this distance. Let’s do a V ambush. Kai, Aaron, circle wide so he doesn’t hear you. When you’re in position—”
“Is it just the one?” Aaron interrupted.
“That I can detect, but that doesn’t mean—”
“We only need one shifter.” Aaron pushed to his feet. “Let’s take him down.”
“Wait—”
The pyromage strode down the game trail, heading straight for the unseen target.
Ezra swore under his breath, then pointed sharply to the right. “Move fast for the ambush, Kai. If he bolts, we’ll never catch him.”
Kai cut to the right, ghosting through the trees.
“With me, Tori,” Ezra said as he stepped into the bush.
Close on his heels, I tried to move as silently as him. Lucky for me, the drumming rain concealed whatever noise I made. He led me wide of the trail, and through the trees, I could just make out Aaron, prowling swiftly forward. Ezra cut around a cluster of saplings, then slowed, dropping into a half-crouch. I mimicked him.
Reaching over his shoulder, he pulled his pole-arm off his back. The two-foot-long rod, dark metal with silver caps, could be split into twin short swords, then reattached to form a double-ended staff. A strange pulse of anxiety ran down my spine at the sight of the weapon. This wasn’t the same one I’d used to kill a man; a demon had shattered that blade’s twin. This was Ezra’s spare.
Above the storm’s racket, a new sound reached my ears. Rustling. Snapping. A crack. Scraping. A drawn-out moan. Could wolves moan?
Ezra halted. As I squinted around his shoulder, something moved in the foliage. A pale shape scrabbled at the base of a tree, but it didn’t look like fur. It looked like …
The figure straightened—a man. A naked man. Stark-ass naked. I could see said ass. Skin as white as snow, smeared with mud. Stripes marked his body—wounds that didn’t bleed, red flesh peeking through his split skin.
The man pawed at the tree bark, whimpering. Snapping off a branch, he crouched on his haunches—providing an even worse view of his flat butt cheeks—and the scraping sound started again.
“Ezra,” I whispered urgently. “Who—”
“A shifter. Human form.” He let out a harsh breath. “We should be closer, but—”
Firelight flared. Aaron stepped out of the brush fifteen feet from the man, flames dancing on his upturned palm, his unsheathed sword in his other hand. “Shifter—”
The man whirled around. Milky eyes fixed on Aaron. Blood ran down his chin and when he pulled his lips back, his teeth were stained red by his bleeding, torn gums. He clutched his stick as though it were a precious delicacy.
“Mine,” the man moaned. “Mine!”
“What’s yours?” Aaron asked cautiously.
The man staggered forward, then listed to one side. “I need more. Must have … more. Give me more.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Aaron’s hand tightened on his sword. “Lie on the ground, face down, or we’ll have no choice but to kill you.”
“More,” the man whispered, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “I need … need …” He bit down on the branch, teeth ripping desperately at the bark.
“Lie down,” Aaron ordered again. “You have ten seconds to comply.”
“I need more.” The man pressed a hand to his head. A feverish flush stained his pale cheeks. “More … need … do you have it? Give it to me!”
He lunged as green light, streaked with red, flared over him. He crumpled forward onto his hands and knees, body heaving, and fur sprouted from his mud-smeared skin. The open wounds pulsed, belching red miasma. The man’s scream transformed into an animal howl.