“Celia…? Honey, what’s wrong?”
My head jerked back to the house. Emme clasped her hands against her mouth. Shayna and Taran exchanged glances, sensing my tigress rising to the surface.
I couldn’t mask my increasing angst. “Get the car keys. Something’s wrong.”
Shayna rushed inside, but Taran yanked the keys out of her hands when she emerged. We piled into the car. “Where’re we going?” Taran asked.
“South.”
Taran scoffed. “South where?” She pulled out of our development onto the main road. I pointed. “I don’t know. Just south, that way.”
“Dude…we’re not going back to Zhahara’s…are we?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. But I think Misha—” A dull ache throbbed in my chest, similar to when you heard someone you knew died. “Oh, my God. Misha’s in trouble.”
Our Tribeca bounced along the dense gravel. The wind intensified, sweeping pine needles and leaves into our path. Taran swore. “This isn’t a road; it’s a goddamn work in progress.”
Taran wasn’t kidding. White rocks kicked up, dinging our windows and side worse than those friggin’ bits of rock that flew out of construction trucks. Someone had begun to lay a foundation, but never completed the task. I dialed Aric, worried he hadn’t returned my texts. “Aric. It’s Celia. I hope you’re okay. You know how you told me to call you before I march into danger?” The increasing worry threatened to suffocate me, making it hard to speak. “Well, I’m marching into danger, so I’m calling. Please call back.”
I disconnected and ran my hand through my hair. Taran swore again when a rock chipped our front windshield. “Celia, are you sure about this?”
“I’m not sure about anything, but we’re making too much noise. I think it’s best to pull over and walk.”
“Shit! Walk where? We’re in the middle of the woods.”
Shayna played with her phone. “Koda’s not answering either.” She leaned in from the back. “They must be in deep if they’re not returning our calls. I’ve tried him four times, Liam twice, Gemini three times—”
Taran glared into the rearview mirror at her. “How do you have Gemini’s number?”
Shayna shuffled in her seat. “Ah…”
Taran clenched her jaw tighter. “Shayna, how do you have his number? Even I don’t have his damn number.”
“He, uh, gave it to me a few nights ago in case I, ah, ever needed anything.”
Behind me, Emme held the phone away from her, trying to keep Bren’s growls from rupturing her eardrums. Because that’s what was missing from my life: another pissed-off werewolf. “Why are you going after that asshole? You should have called me, goddamn it. How the hell am I supposed to track you now?”
Emme spoke reasonably. “I’m sorry we didn’t call, Bren. But Celia felt an urgency to help—”
“An asshole! Just say it, Emme. Celia felt the urge to help some master vampire asshole! Son of a bitch, you couldn’t have waited fifteen freaking minutes for me to get there?”
“We’re off Highway Eighty-nine in South Tahoe. Take a right at the white fir sapling and the first left onto a gravel road.”
“Take a right at the white fir sapling! Are you crazy? There’s a million fu—”
Emme disconnected her call. “Bren says he’s disappointed we didn’t call him sooner. He’ll try to track us now and will hopefully join us momentarily.”
Emme missed her calling as a White House spokesperson.
“He hates me.” Taran gripped the steering wheel tight.
I cut my eyes from the road. “Who?”
“Gemini.”
I groaned. “Taran, he doesn’t. I think he’s just a little shy.”
“Do you think it’s all the swearing? Son of a bitch, is that it? I swear too goddamn much?”
“Well, dude, you could try toning it down a little.”
Shayna jumped in her seat at the sight of Taran’s death glare. “Listen, Miss I Have Every Damn Wolf Eating from My Hand, I don’t need—”
“Taran, stop the car!” I rushed out as the trees cleared and a house came into view…an empty, half-built house. Only the foundation and skeleton frame had been completed in the McMansion. There was no roof, and the second floor hadn’t been laid. I ran around the house, sniffing the air for any hint of vampiric aroma. Nothing. Nada. No trace of magic at all…except for Tahoe. The house sat on top of the hill. I trekked to the back, where I had a view of another monstrous estate situated near the edge of the lake, a few acres from where I stood. The road we’d taken must have angled back around. This estate resembled a giant Tudor…or I should say about seven Tudors pushed together. A two-acre-wide maze of hedges ran from the side of the house to the bottom of the small cliff where I stood.