Chapter 17
Chapter seventeen
Something was wrong.
Dominic jolted awake, instantly on high alert.
His heart pounded too hard and too fast. Perspiration beaded across his brow and slicked the back of his neck. Dread twisted in his stomach, and instincts screamed for him to move, to act.
Yet, everything seemed quiet inside La Madriguera.
Disoriented and on edge, he rolled to his side and slid his hand across the mattress, reaching for his mate in an attempt to ground himself. Instead of soft, warm skin, however, he found only empty sheets, the crisp cotton cool to the touch.
Sammy’s scent still saturated the bed, indicating he hadn’t been gone very long. Rather than go searching for him, Dominic sat up against the headboard and reached out through their bond.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
He waited, but when several seconds passed without a response, unease began to creep back in. “Sammy? Where are you, colibrí?”
Nothing.
Throwing the blankets back, he shoved out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants he grabbed off the floor. “Sammy? Answer me.”
He received no response. Worse, he could no longer sense his mate either. If Sammy had simply fallen asleep somewhere else in the house, he would be able to feel him.
When he reached out now, he found only vacancy.
Dominic left the room at a jog, calling out with a deep, resonating growl that penetrated the night and vibrated the air. The pack responded without question or hesitation, coming from all over the house to gather in the foyer at the foot of the stairs.
“What?” Chapel asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Sammy’s gone.”
“Are you sure?” Boone asked, his brow knitted with concern. “Maybe he’s in the media room.”
“We’ll help you look,” Kennedy offered.
“He’s not here.” Dominic growled, concern making him impatient and short-tempered. “I can’t feel him, and I can’t reach him through our mate bond.”
He received a couple of blank stares at first, but after a few seconds, everyone seemed to work out what he meant. Kennedy smiled. Saint clapped him on the shoulder. Chapel and Boone nodded approvingly.
Only Thierry remained unmoved by the news that Dominic had finally claimed Sammy as his mate.
“Okay,” Saint said with more urgency in his voice now. “What do you want to do?”
“I’m going to track him.” He held his arm up and tapped a finger to the bracelet on his wrist.
“Are we thinking this has something to do with his mom?” Chapel asked.
“It has to be.”
Kennedy frowned, her brow knitted with frustration. “Are you sure? I thought we had more time.”
Frankly, it didn’t matter who had taken his mate. They wouldn’t live to see the sunrise anyway. Dominic damn sure wasn’t about to waste time debating possible suspects and motivations.
“What do you need us to do?” Boone asked.
“Just be ready to go.”
“This could be a trap.” Leaning against the staircase banister, Chapel folded her arms over her chest and shook her head. “We have no idea what we’re walking into.”
“This isn’t an order,” Dominic clarified. “I’m asking for your help.” He went around the group, meeting each person’s eyes, lingering a little longer on Thierry. “If anyone wants to stay behind, I’ll respect that.”
“Fuck that,” Chapel responded at once. “You know I’m always down for a good fight.”
“Well, I’m in,” Kennedy agreed.
“Me, too,” added Boone.
“He’s family,” Saint said simply.
Everyone turned to look at Thierry.
The wolf had good cause to sit this one out, and even more reason to want Sammy gone. Despite his rationale being based in fear rather than fact, it was real to him. No one, not even Dominic, could force him to accept the truth before he was ready.
“I don’t trust him,” Thierry said after a long time.
“I know.” Arguing about it wouldn’t change anything.
“But I trust you.” Seemingly without thinking, he adjusted one of the floor vases that bracketed the door—a clear sign of his growing distress. “Besides, you’re less of a dick when he’s around.”
Knowing any outward show of gratitude wouldn’t be received well, Dominic met his gaze and simply nodded.
“Gear up and meet me out front.” As he issued the command, he used his magic to dress himself in black cargo pants, a matching tee, and a pair of leather boots with thick soles.
Chapel and Kennedy hurried back up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time, while Thierry and Boone headed toward the library at the back of the house.
“Come on.” Saint slapped him on the shoulder and extended his other hand toward the door, swinging it open with a flick of his own magic. “Let’s find your mate.”
He didn’t need help with a locator spell, but having someone to help interpret the information could be useful. Especially when every second mattered.
Saint led the way onto the veranda, his clothes transforming from sweatpants and a tank top to an outfit similar to Dominic’s as he moved. A leather harness buckled across his chest, the multiple loops and sleeves holding daggers, throwing stars, and other weapons.
The moment Dominic stepped outside, a streak of lightning slashed through the night, followed by a crack of thunder so violent it split the sky open. Sheets of rain soaked the ground and pounded a tattoo against the roof, the resulting roar drowning out the sounds of the forest.
Coincidence or omen, he didn’t know, only that the weather echoed the turbulence inside him.
As a mystic who drew power from celestial bodies and events, a visible moon would have been ideal. While his preferred energy source, they weren’t his only option. In their absence, he could harness the violence of the storm instead.
He stood at the edge of the porch, untying the bracelet’s cords before sliding it off his wrist. The volcanic rocks grazed his palm as he gripped them in his fist, their ridges still warm from his touch.
In contrast, the moonstone remained cool and sleek, the polished surface reflecting the lights as he rolled it between his fingers.
The type of spell Sammy envisioned—maps, a drop of blood, a clear line from point A to point B—did exist. It had a very narrow application, though, and it was far less accurate.
He inhaled sharply, the air catching in his throat, his vision tunneling as the cacophony in his head quieted, leaving only a singular focus. Warmth like summer sunlight flooded his veins, his magic sparking, igniting into a vibrant blaze.
The roar of the storm became muted. The scent of rain faded. He no longer felt the electricity that charged the air or the wind that whipped through the night.
Golden light flared behind his closed lids, soft and diffused beneath an inky sky. In the distance, blurred shadows moved against a backdrop of muted greens and bright reds with occasional splashes of white.
As his focus sharpened, so did the scene, revealing a manicured garden alive with partygoers. A quarter moon shone overhead, but only the brightest stars broke through the light pollution.
“It’s cold there,” Saint said, his voice distant and hollow, as he rode shotgun through Dominic’s vision. “See the frost on the trees in the background?”
No, he hadn’t seen the frost. He had been too distracted by the subtle shimmer that saturated the perimeter of the garden.
“There are wards everywhere.”
“Not just wards. I’ve counted at least seven guards.”
Meaning there was likely a small army of security patrolling the rest of the property.
He kept searching, moving from face to face through the crowd until he finally spotted his mate. On a narrow platform, dressed like sin and bad decisions, Sammy sat with a group of Otherlings, each one younger and more frightened than the last.
“Well, that’s a look,” Saint commented with a chuckle. “What happened to his hair?”
“I doubt he chose it for himself,” Dominic muttered, his gaze raking over his mate.
While he knew it was foolish, he called for Sammy again through their bond.
Again, only silence answered.
But now he knew where to find him, and he’d tear the world apart to bring him home.
“Wait,” Saint said, all notes of teasing gone. “Go back.”
“There’s no—”
“Go back,” Saint insisted.
Growling under his breath, Dominic panned back to the left, down the row of Otherlings on the dais.
“There. The girl on the end.” Saint’s presence pressed more insistently against his consciousness. “Isn’t that the missing shifter from Valdosta?”
With her heavy makeup and bleached hair, he couldn’t be certain, but it sure as hell looked like the photo of the teenager her family had provided.
“Dom, what the fuck is going on?”
To that, he didn’t have an answer, nor did he have time to worry about it right then.
Though reluctant to lose sight of his mate, he pulled away, zooming out as he searched for some kind of identifying landmark. He didn’t have to look far. The edge of the garden abutted a stone wall that overlooked a body of dark water.
And beyond the choppy waves was one of the most recognizable skylines in the world.
“New York?”
Dominic registered his brother’s shock and confusion, but the location itself meant little to him. All he cared about was getting to his mate as quickly as possible.
While he could see past the wards easily enough, he could also feel the steady pressure as they pushed back against him. Attempting a jump directly into the garden wouldn’t end well.
So he zoomed out even farther, over a rolling estate at the water’s edge, searching for a landing zone beyond the protective barriers.
“There,” he muttered aloud, finding an open area beyond a set of iron gates. “Got it?”
“Got it,” Saint confirmed.
Mission accomplished, he reversed the magic, focusing now on the feel of the wooden plank beneath his boots and the sounds of the storm that continued to rage around him. He found his way back, mind and body merging, just as the rest of the pack joined them on the porch.
They split into groups of three, Chapel and Thierry making the jump with him while Boone and Kennedy traveled with Saint.