Chapter 30
Wyatt
“Woman,” I breathe, unable to decide between laughing and shaking Alice Blythe silly. “You will be the death of me.”
My heart races, hardly believing the scene that just played out before us. Hardly believing we survived this without a real fight.
Willa leaving with the Hunt was a wild card that none of us could have anticipated, but…
Suddenly, I remember the way Willa acted in the garden.
The way she’d been hesitant with me about agreeing to come out to Cade’s to check the wards.
Had she known all along the Hunt was coming for her? She was certainly dressed to leave.
My mind runs over the details. The sleepy, forgetful feeling I’d gotten when she touched my arm.
The way our conversation slipped through the cracks in my mind, almost immediately.
I doubt very much that Willa would have let us go to all this trouble if she’d known exactly what would happen here, but she’d known something the rest of us did not.
And I had to admit, our plan was executed perfectly.
Too perfectly, probably. I glance at Alice, who’s still smiling at her Fey-fucking joke.
Godsdamn it, I love it that she finds herself amusing.
But my mind can’t sink into the moment, into the relief that the town’s preparations saved us.
That we weren’t needed. There’s a puzzle piece missing, and I can’t tell what it is.
A crackle comes over my walkie. It’s Barnes. “The first of the procession has crossed the county line.”
The first of Them. That’s it. In all the excitement over the little bear cub and Willa, I never spotted the hellhounds. With the amount of Them in these parts recently, there should’ve been a whole pack. Where the fuck are They?
I switch the channel on my walkie to the one Cade and I use in private. “You sense the pack, bud?”
Alice’s eyes widen as my realization sinks into her, too. Her instincts for this life are sharpening. She stands up, craning her neck to and fro, shaking her head at me. She can’t see Them.
“No,” Caden responds, his voice slow, pondering. “But remember, Dr. Waterhouse’s research indicates that They may not stay as close to the Hunt proper as we imagine.”
Alice sucks a nervous hiss of air through her teeth, returning to her chair, but she doesn’t sit. She’s still looking at the dark, shadowed forest, like she might somehow be able to track the hounds at this distance.
She plucks the walkie from my hand, bringing it toward her face. “It’s possible They cast a wider net because of Sector’s presence, right?”
“Sure is,” Cade responds. “And we’ve still got everything locked down.”
The wind shifts, cold as winter, sending the scent of homefires and pine forest into my nostrils. Not even a hint of sulfur. Fallon comes on next, apparently having returned the bear cub to where he belongs. “Best thing to do now is get everyone inside and keep ’em there.”
Mona comes on over the group channel, her voice a slow Southern drawl, rich and warm. “The rear-guard is passing through. Couple’a hellhounds at Their backs.”
Cade responds to her. “Good. The rest of the pack?”
Julius replies. “Not yet; probably sweeping the woods, if I had to guess.”
Something a little like relief flows through me. None of ours are in the woods tonight, and the coven did their best to keep the leafers out of the way. We might just make it through this unscathed—without too much drama or fanfare—and why shouldn’t we?
Barnes and Julius aren’t hedgeriders in the sense that they were born into European hedgeriding families.
They, and Mona, are known as Hunters here in the Northern Territories.
They know the demimonde as well as we do, probably better in some ways.
They don’t just deal with Them; they deal with the Earthbound.
The stuff people used to call cryptids, monsters, and demons. I trust them to help us with this.
Julius, apparently, takes the walkie from his wife. “Where’re we drinking?”
“Yeah.” Alice laughs. “Where are we drinking?”
I click the walkie on. “Lucky’s roof. Let’s do a quick sweep to make sure folks are staying put, and meet there in an hour.”
The walkie static partially obscures Mona’s response as they cross out of the county and the coven’s enhanced reach. “—see you there. Keep the kids inside for the rest… Be safe.”
“Roger that,” I respond, filling the blanks in on my own.
Down on the street, Wanda steps off the dark front porch of the herbal shop. She stares at the place Willa disappeared, shaking her head.
“Come down with me,” I urge Alice. “I wanna know what the hell just happened to Willa.”
She nods, slipping her hand into mine. I can’t deny that she looks happy, but there’s something jittery about her.
Like all this has amped her up too much and she can’t quite stop moving.
She follows me down the iron steps of the fire escape, Fern close behind, and when we get to the last step, I turn to help her down as Fern leaps past her.
Alice slides against me, her mouth meeting mine in the alleyway, hot and needy.
Her heart thumps against my chest, and my hands slide under her sweater on instinct.
I need to touch her. Need to know she’s still here, still safe.
It still feels like we got off too easy.
Like someone might steal her from me. Her skin’s a little damp, like she flushed hot during the Hunt’s ride through town.
That doesn’t surprise me much. I got the same way.
The weight of her pushes me against the brick wall as she deepens the kiss, her tongue dancing with mine. She’s here, she wants this. She’s not going anywhere. Not tonight, anyway.
And then the walkie crackles, Caden’s voice coming over the speaker. “Where’d y’all get off to?”
I laugh against Alice’s mouth, and she giggles, pressing her forehead into mine. That laugh is better than the kiss, even—for my heart, anyway. It’s a breathless little sound, and then four little words slip out that send my emotions into the stratosphere. “I love it here.”
Fern thumps her big, furry butt down on both our feet, wedging herself between us, somehow leaning into us both. It’s a powerfully comfortable feeling having the two of them where I know they’re safe. I want to gather them both up, tuck them into my jacket so I know where they are at all times.
But that’s not how love works. I learned that when Fern was a pup, better than I ever learned with my siblings.
Animals are good teachers. If I kept Fern too close, she got restless.
When I let her run, let her do what her instincts told her to, make her own doggy choices, she always came back to me.
Always wanted to come home because I showed her early on that I’d always be her safe place.
My sweet girl’s got a bit of that same spirit, I reckon. She needs to know how deeply she’s wanted—needed, even—but if I hold too tight, it’ll break her.
“I love you being here,” I murmur back, wondering if her declaration is the first step to telling me she loves me. Mine certainly is. I want to tell her so bad it practically aches in my chest.
I’ve always had a home with my siblings.
We might have worked things out in an unconventional way, but when we left California, Fallon and I made a pact to do shit differently than my parents did.
So this isn’t the family I never had; it’s more.
An expansion of what Fallon and I built here in Blackbird Hollow with Caden.
This town has always been our soft landing.
Our happily ever after, or so I thought.
But with Alice in my arms, Fern sitting on my feet, the Hunt past us and leafer season almost over, time seems to have spun out into something else.
Something more like whatever after is like in the old tales.
I never knew I wanted this so badly. After the shit I’ve messed up in the past, I assumed I’d given up on romance. But now…now I want it all with Alice.
And I wonder if I can have it.
The walkie crackles again. “Are you two getting it on in the alley?” Fallon asks, sounding scandalized. “I haven’t had a debriefing on Bang Zero yet. Slow down so I can catch up on the gruesome details of your sex life.”
I let out a string of curses my sister can’t possibly hear from across the street but will most definitely sense because we are just that close.
I grin at Alice and roll my eyes a little as she shrugs, as though to let me know she finds Fallon’s complaint perfectly valid.
Her arms tighten around me in a hug, though, and I can smell the fresh scent of her shampoo.
She smells like citrus and green things. She smells like she belongs in my bed on Sunday mornings, on the back porch in the evenings, and right beside me as long as I live. But much as I want to tell her that, I know this isn’t the right moment.
Under my hands, she shakes a little. The Hunt rattled her, as it should, and the night’s sure as shit not over. We’d all do well to stay wary. I press the button on my walkie. “Heading over to talk to Wanda.”
“On my way,” Fallon replies.
Cade says something in the background I can’t hear, but it sounds like he’s hungry. He’s always hungry these days. Part of the change.
Alice’s hand finds its way into mine, and we walk out of the alley with Fern, finding Wanda still staring at the spot where Willa got taken.
As we approach, the air changes. It’s colder the closer we get to Wanda. Feels like spirit activity, though that’s not my area of expertise. I kinda wish Barnes were down here so I could ask him.
But it’s not the temperature that sends fear skittering through me like a novice hedgerider. It’s Wanda’s eyes. They’ve gone milk-white and cloudy, like someone stirred a bit of Blackbird Hollow’s signature mists into her peepers.