Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
Pack Lands, West of Methuen
8:00 PM
“ I was so wo rrr ied the Collecto rrr would find you again,” Abby said, using her nose to find the spot where Jun had wrecked his car. Her mates let her take the lead, seeing no reason to cut their training day short. A scent trail was a scent trail.
“Oh, he did,” Jun said. “A few times. And once I even found him . But each time I was better prepared than before. If we can go to your den, I’ll tell you all abou— Ah! There’s my car!”
Jun got behind the wheel, turned the key, and the engine started.
Four wolves put their heads to the front bumper and pushed while he reversed out of the trees and back onto the narrow road.
Once righted, he leaned out his open window and said, “Lead the way. I’ll follow.”
Abby took off at a run with her mates right behind her. As soon as they reached their shed, they shifted back into human forms and dressed. Then they invited Jun in to continue his story.
“So, the Collector never did manage to snatch you,” Dylan said. “Nice.”
“Actually…” Jun said, “He bested me once.”
“He got you?” Abby cried, imagining Jun in another pit. Or worse, strapped to a gurney. “What did you do?”
“As soon as the Collector turned his back, I opened my own portal and time-hopped home.”
“But…the anchor,” Hawk said. “You’d need an anchor to get back to the right time.”
Jun pulled on the chain around his neck and fished out a laminated paper from inside his shirt.
“What’s that?” Stryker asked. He pushed up his sleeves to reveal more warm, brown skin and black tribal tattoos.
“Genius at work,” Jun said, and he laid the object flat on the end of their bed so everyone could see.
It appeared to be the torn half of a matte photograph. The woman and the two little girls in the photo wore matching red sweaters, and the printed letters beneath their feet spelled out HAPPY HOL?—
“Every Christmas,” Jun said, “when my wife does our Christmas cards?—”
“That’s your wife?” Abby asked, and she snatched up the photo. She tucked her brown hair—which had grown past her shoulders by then—behind her ears to get a better look.
“Married seventeen years,” Jun said, leaning back against the brand new wardrobe. “We have three daughters and a dog.”
The woman in the photo was stunning, and the two little girls were adorable, especially the one who was missing her front teeth. Abby would have liked to see the other half of the card too, which presumably included Jun, their third daughter, and the dog.
“Every Christmas when Ellie does our Christmas cards, I rip one in half and put half under our mattress. I laminate the other half and wear it around my neck. Then, if anything happens, I can open a portal back home and use my half of the card to bring me back to the other half in our bedroom, if not on the same day, at least sometime around the date she was getting the cards ready.”
“You’re right.” Stryker lounged across the bed, his head propped up in his hand. “That’s pure genius.”
“How close to center do you hit the target?” Hawk asked.
“I only needed to do it once and ended up having to live two days over. It wasn’t too bad, though…I did wrap the Christmas presents twice that year, which was kind of a bummer. Still, beat the alternative.”
“I’m glad you came back to tell us.” Abby returned the laminated card to him.
“Oh, that’s not why I came,” Jun said. “At least not all of it. I haven’t gotten to the best part.”
“What is it?” Hawk asked.
“As often as the Collector almost caught me, I was able to turn the tables and spy on him .”
“You learned something,” Stryker surmised.
Jun’s smile was tight-lipped and grim. “He wears many faces. At this point, I’ve seen seven of them, but there are likely more. His face isn’t melted from playing in blood magic, like Stella Aldren assumed. It’s melted from too many transformations.
“He can’t hold onto any of those seven glamours forever though. That’s why he sometimes lets us see his more gruesome face. It’s like a facial vacation for him.”
“Could you describe any of the faces you’ve seen?” Stryker asked, pushing himself up to sitting. “I bet Ethan Mather knows someone in the BPD who does crime sketches.”
“I can do better than that.” Jun slipped his phone from his pocket and gave it a wave. “I got photos.”
“No shit?” Dylan asked, leaning in.
Stryker got off the bed, and he and Hawk drew in close.
Abby linked her arm through Hawk’s.
“There’s this one.” Jun showed them a grainy close-up of a younger man with dark hair that hung to his shoulders.
“It’s hard to tell,” Hawk said. “I don’t think I’ve seen him anywhere around here.”
“Then there’s this one,” Jun said. “This is the face he was wearing the day before he grabbed me. I followed him into a post office and hid behind a stack of delivery boxes.”
Abby thought that was unnecessarily reckless. The post office lobbies she knew would have left him too exposed, delivery boxes or not.
Jun scrolled through the other five photos.
“I don’t recognize any of those faces,” Dylan said.
“Me neither,” Stryker said.
“Send them to Stella Aldren,” Hawk said. “We have her number.”
“Actually,” Abby said, “I bet Stella would love to see Jun in person.”
“On it!” Dylan placed a quick call.
Stella’s voice came on over the speaker. “Dylan? Is everything okay?”
“We have a visitor.”
“Oh no.” Her voice seemed to wither. “Is it the Collector? Where’s Abby?”
“She’s fine,” Dylan said, his eyes slicing her way. He reached out and tapped his finger to the end of her nose. “She’s right next to me. But we’ve got a surprise for you.”
Stella let out a groan. “I don’t like surprises.”
Abby leaned over the phone and yelled, “You’re gonna like this one. Or most of it anyway. Where are you? We’ll come to you.”
“Are you sure? I’m in East Boston.”
Abby glanced up at Hawk, and he gave her a nod. If the Collector had new evils in store, there was no time to waste.