CHAPTER TWELVE || REED #2
“Mm.” Harris considered this. “People don’t usually ask those questions unless they think to.”
“How would we even know?” I asked.
“Toxicology, I guess. If there are antidepressants in his bloodstream, that’d let us know there’s a pattern.”
“Dr. Langley said she was going to run some tests.”
“Then we should talk to her.”
“Now?”
Harris nodded.
“I’ll call her,” I said, already pulling out my phone. I dialed Dr. Langley and put it on speaker.
“It’s about time,” she said when she picked up, sounding wide awake. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.”
“Sorry, Hattie—” I corrected myself. “Err, Dr. Langley. We need to know about the hiker. About Scott Vogler.”
I heard the rustling of paperwork through the phone.
“That poor bastard. I managed to get some information out of the deputy. The rest I put together on the web.” She paused.
“He was thirty-nine. From South Seattle and recently divorced. It seems as though he planned to go into the mountains and just… disappear.”
Harris and I traded an uneasy look.
“How do you know that?” I demanded.
“The deputy collected his personal effects when they found his pack,” she explained. “Scott had written a note. And there was a gun in there, too. It looks like he hadn’t planned on coming back.”
I didn’t need to ask her about the toxicology screen—I already knew enough.
I thanked Dr. Langley and hung up, and Harris and I traded a dark look, but neither of us said anything.
As we headed back toward the kitchen—Harris already out the door—I cast one last look around Sally’s house. At the quiet neglect, the loneliness hidden safely behind closed doors. Harris had lived through this once before. I couldn’t let him do it again.
* * *
Emma took one look at our faces—at Harris’s grim stillness, at the way my shoulders were pulled tight—and simply waved us inside, shutting the door behind us.
I had called ahead and the rest of the pack was already there, clustered in their usual places: Lee and Hunter on the loveseat, Daniel standing near the window with his arms crossed, Lacey beside him.
Sarah was half-buried in books at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee forgotten at her elbow, no longer steaming.
Lindsey was seated at the other end of the table, her arms crossed.
Tamrand stood next to the bookcase, looking distinctly uncomfortable at being surrounded by werewolves.
“Reed, what is it? What did you learn?” Emma asked, following close behind us.
I nodded to Harris. “He’s the one who figured out the connection between the victims.”
Harris hesitated, glancing around the room, then took a deep breath.
“We think the connection is depression. The hiker had a note in his pack indicating he was intending his trip to be one-way. And we found antidepressants and signs of neglect at Sally’s place.
” He paused. “She was taken last night.”
“Wait, Sally from the restaurant?” Daniel asked, startled. “The British lady?”
“Yeah, her,” Harris said. “It seems like she hid it really well, but she was definitely in a bad headspace when she was taken.”
“Wait, so this monster selects people who are already struggling emotionally?” Lindsey asked, her lips curling in distaste. “Wow. That’s messed up.”
Sarah froze. She’d been absently flipping through one of the texts in front of her, but at Lindsey’s words, something seemed to snap into place.
“No. Not depression, exactly. It feeds on despair,” she said, lifting her head and meeting my gaze. “I just saw this. I think I know what kind of monster it is now.”
With that, she stood and crossed the room to the bookcase at the far wall, then retrieved a well-worn book I recognized as one of the journals from a previous generation of wolves.
She carried the book back to the kitchen table and opened it, flipping through the pages and muttering under her breath as we all crowded closer, forming a tight circle around her.
I could feel Harris at my back, solid and warm, his presence anchoring me.
“Here,” Sarah breathed, tapping the page with her forefinger triumphantly.
“Algea. A class of creatures from Greek mythology. It feeds on despair, hopelessness, and prolonged suffering. It doesn’t just kill—it consumes what’s left of a person once they’ve fully given up.
It’s intelligent and it can lure victims, paralyzing them and forcing them to relive their worst memories. ”
I felt a chill dance up my spine at her words.
“It hunts those already suffering,” Sarah continued, her eyes scanning the page. “And it grows stronger the longer it feeds.”
“How do you kill it?” Lee asked sharply.
“I remember this,” Emma said quietly. “The pack faced a creature like this eighty years ago.” She paused, and her expression went stricken. “I should’ve recognized this sooner. You don’t kill it. Not easily.”
Sarah flipped another page, her eyes scanning it, then nodded gravely.
“Yeah, Emma’s right. An Algea came through the bleeds once before,” she said.
“The pack fought it. But they waited too long. They didn’t understand what it was until it had already gained a lot of power.
” Then she hesitated, reading further. Her expression turned grimmer.
“They had to work together to kill it. They beheaded it and then set it on fire. It took out the pack’s alpha and several other wolves in the process. ”
My gaze flicked to Emma. Her face had gone ashen.
“How many died?” I asked.
Emma’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “A quarter of the pack. But there were more of us back then. At least twice as many as now.”
Her words landed like a physical blow.
Harris’s hand found mine, grounding me.
“Seems like your instincts to wait until we knew more were correct,” Daniel said quietly. “If you’d sent the pack after it before knowing the full story…”
His unfinished sentence hung in the air, but the meaning was impossible to miss.
“There’s more,” Sarah said. “It doesn’t do its killing here.”
Oliver straightened. “What do you mean?”
“It feeds in the Otherworld,” she replied. “That’s where it finishes its victims. That’s where it’s strongest.”
“So it’s with Sally right now and we can’t get to her,” I said. A chill ran down my spine. “That’s what you’re saying?”
Sarah grimaced and nodded. “Yeah. Our only shot at it is when it’s hunting potential victims. Once they’re gone, it’s too late.”
I locked gazes with Daniel, who looked just as horrified. “How do we cross into the Otherworld? Can you make a door or something?”
He shook his head, his eyes troubled. “Even if I knew how, I don’t have anywhere near that kind of power. Accessing the Otherworld takes a circle of witches who know what they’re doing. I’m sorry.”
Tamrand cleared his throat. “Someone in a liminal state could cross over without the aid of spellcraft.”
“A liminal state like a werewolf?” Lacey demanded, speaking up for the first time.
“No. When you’re a wolf, you’re a wolf. And when you’re in human form, you’re that too.” He paused. “It would require someone to be right on the border of life and death—someone who isn’t quite in this world and isn’t quite in the realm beyond, either.”
“Great, that’s so helpful,” Lacey said, rolling her eyes. “So unless we find someone on their deathbed, willing to go traipsing through the woods after a monster that feeds on suffering, we’re basically screwed.”
I hated it, but she wasn’t wrong. The Algea had taken Sally. And now we knew, more or less, where she was. But we had no way to reach her. And if we didn’t do something, she was doomed.
The knowledge sat between us like a live wire—dangerous and impossible to ignore. I could feel every pair of eyes flick toward me and then away again, as if they weren’t sure whether they were allowed to look.
This was usually the part where an alpha barked orders.
Jeremy would have. So would the alphas before him. He would’ve given the pack his decision, unilaterally made—a plan handed down and obedience expected.
It would’ve been clean and efficient. Strong and in control.
But I wasn’t Jeremy. And Harris was right. I couldn’t be him or any of the other alphas who came before. I could only be me and pray it was enough.
“Alright,” I said.
Every pair of eyes turned to me.
“We can’t do nothing. But we’re not charging into this blind. We know what this creature is now. We know where it’s operating. That means we can plan.”
I looked around the room at my pack. For the first time since becoming alpha, I really looked at them.
At Emma’s lined face, carved by generations of loss and survival.
At Lee and Hunter, both of them fidgeting on the couch, their restless energy barely contained.
At Daniel, pale and worried, probably already thinking ten steps ahead of the rest of us.
At Sarah, who had pulled back from the thick leather-bound journal as if it might bite her.
At Lindsey, who was watching me steadily, her gaze locked on mine.
“This only works if we work together,” I said. “I’m not assigning roles without hearing from you all first.”
That earned me a few startled looks.
Oliver blinked at me, visible surprise on his face. “You… want our input?”
He’d been with the pack throughout Jeremy’s reign and he’d heard plenty about Hank, Jeremy’s father. This wasn’t the way things had ever been done.
“Yes,” I said simply.
“Sarah,” I went on, turning to her. “You figured out this is an Algea. Do you want to stay on research?”
She glanced down at the journal and nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Good. I want every reference you can find about it. I want to know its weaknesses and patterns—anything that can help us. We need to know how long Sally has.”
“I can do that.”
“Lee. Hunter. What are your thoughts?”
They straightened, glancing at each other.
“Well, we’re going to need patrols,” Hunter said hesitantly. “I mean, right?”
Lee added, “We’re going to need to stop this thing if it crosses back over. We can’t let it take anyone else.”
I nodded. “But the town perimeter only and stay together. No solo runs. Nothing that even looks like heroics.”
Hunter exchanged another look with his brother. “Works for us.”
“Daniel?” I asked, turning to him. “I’m guessing you don’t know a way to put a group of us into a liminal state between life and death?”
He winced. “Not without killing you. I could probably slow the spread of a poison or something,” he added doubtfully. “But I wouldn’t actually be able to heal it. Spells like that might exist, but I don’t know them. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I told him. “Do you mind going with Lee and Hunter? You can magically set a perimeter and they can patrol it. At the very least, we’ll have a warning if it crosses into town. It probably won’t, but we don’t know that.”
Daniel nodded. The twins looked less than pleased.
“I’ll join them,” Lacey announced, her gaze flicking to Daniel, then meeting mine as if daring me to contradict her. “Someone has to keep an eye on the wonder twins.”
“Good,” I said firmly. “More backup is better.”
I turned to Emma next. “Would you be willing to coordinate? I need someone calling to check in with Daniel and making sure everyone is safe. This thing can lure its victims, and if anything feels off, I want to know.”
“I can do that,” she said, eyeing me with confusion.
“What will you be doing?” Lindsey asked. There was a small, approving smile on her lips.
“I’ll be searching the woods,” I said. “In case the journals are wrong and this thing doesn’t feed in the Otherworld.
At the very least, I’ll look for traces of magic or, barring that, Sally’s scent.
I can at least figure out where she crossed over and possibly where this thing enters our world most often. ”
Lindsey nodded. “I’ll come with you.”
Oliver cleared his throat. “As will I.”
Surprise flashed through me when I met his gaze. He hadn’t gotten along well with Jeremy and he hadn’t minded pushing back—an aspect of his personality I hadn’t seen since I’d taken over. He hardly spoke up in meetings and he rarely volunteered for anything.
“I like Sally, too,” Oliver said firmly. “We all do. If you really want our input, this is mine. I’m going to help you find her.”
I nodded at him. The approval and trust I saw reflected in his eyes made me want to be worthy of it—of having the loyalty of my pack.
With everyone’s roles settled, I exhaled, tension bleeding from my shoulders in a slow release. The plan wasn’t perfect, but it was something.
Harris squeezed my hand gently. When I finally glanced over at him, his expression stopped me short. There was a quiet and unmistakable respect in his eyes.
“We need to wait for nightfall. Get some rest where you can,” I finished, turning back to the pack. “We all know our roles. We move carefully and we don’t lose anyone else.”
As the pack began to disperse, talking quietly among themselves, I stayed where I was for a moment longer, letting the feeling sink in. For the first time since becoming alpha, I didn’t feel like I was facing all of this alone. I had others ready to back me up.
I had a pack to rely upon.
* * *
The forest gave us nothing. That night, we searched until the sky bruised purple and then bled into gold, the moon fading from view as the sun crept over the horizon.
Sally’s scent vanished deep in the woods, ending at the large clearing in the forest where Harris and I had been attacked. There was a glimmer of magic there as well, but it was already too faded to make out clearly. There was nothing else.
Sally really was gone and there was nothing any of us could do to reach her. The Algea was feeding on her suffering, her despair.
I sent the pack home at sunrise, when we were forced to shift back into human form.
I had told them we would debrief in the afternoon, after we’d gotten some sleep. They didn’t look relieved to go home—just exhausted and defeated. Exactly the way I felt.
Harris stood on the porch, his jacket pulled tight around himself against the early-morning chill. He straightened when he saw my expression, concern tightening his features.
“Reed—”
“I tried,” I said hoarsely. “It wasn’t enough.”
Harris took me by the hand and led me into the cabin. He sat me down on the couch and I let him.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, sitting down beside me. He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. “I’m here. It’s okay.”
“Something terrible is happening to her and I can’t stop it.”
Harris’s other hand slid up and down my spine, slow and grounding. He didn’t try to placate me. Instead, he just sat with me in it.
I didn’t speak again. Instead, I let him hold me until the golden light of dawn through the windows gave way to the harshness of day.