Sealed With a Curse(39)

“Come on, Ceel,” Taran insisted.

I didn’t follow right away, choosing to trek to the edge of the pier where Misha effortlessly treaded water. He smiled. I didn’t return his grin.

I straightened my shoulders. “Just so you know, I don’t belong to you.”

Misha’s gray eyes reflected silver in the moonlit water. “I never claimed you to be mine, my darling,” he answered patiently.

The nerve I’d built up to confront him disappeared, its empty space replaced by a sudden wave of foolishness. Me thinks I presume too much. I cleared my throat. “Good. So long as we’re clear.”

I hurried away, but not before I heard Misha whisper, “Unless, of course, you desire to be.”





CHAPTER 12


Taran rolled our Subaru into Emerald Bay, a former state park situated on the southern end of Tahoe, and the place Zhahara called home, sweet home. Before she moved in, I didn’t think anyone could buy a state park. But when you had the amount of moola master vampires possessed, laws, politicians, and the constitution were just minor inconveniences.

“This shit’s fucked up.”

“I know, Taran. You’ve mentioned it once or twice.” I rubbed my eyes. It was close to two in the morning. We should have been in bed with visions of half-naked werewolves dancing in our heads. But none of us could sleep following a steaming cup of Misha java. “Reenergized” was an understatement. My legs itched to run a few marathons while I read War and Peace and created origami birds with my free hand. We’d gone home, showered, and Googled directions to Zhahara’s estate—much to Taran’s audible hems, haws, and “F this”es.

“Maybe we should contact the wolves,” Emme said quietly. “I mean, they are the experts in these matters.”

Shayna turned around to face Emme. “Dude. Are you nuts? After what happened at Misha’s do you really think they’ll do anything to help him?”

“Maybe not him…” Emme glanced my way.

I knew Emme meant “wolf,” not “wolves.” I also knew which wolf in particular she thought might rush to help me. But Aric had proved…distracting. My fierceness tapered in his presence, not a good thing in the dawn of a bloodlust epidemic. I needed my tigress to protect me and keep me focused, not some starry-eyed tabby who developed a bad case of nipplus erectus at the sight of Aric shirtless.

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts from the intensity with which he regarded me…before his pack hauled him away. “I’m not involving Aric in this. He and Misha obviously hate each other.” I shrugged. “Besides, he told me to skip town.”

“Smart wolf,” Taran muttered from the front.

My shoulders slumped; I was tired of arguing. “Taran, people are being gnawed on like trail mix. They’ll continue to die if I don’t do something.” I stared out the car window into the pitch-black night. “Still, I can’t help Misha unless I know for sure Zhahara is involved. Let me snoop around and see what I can find. If she’s running a soup kitchen or nursing orphaned monkeys, I promise to never mention Misha, bloodlust, or withered corpses again.”

Taran’s narrowed eyes cut to the rearview mirror. “Don’t think I won’t hold you to that.”

Zhahara’s compound wasn’t hard to find, seeing as a twenty-foot stone wall encompassed the fifteen-plus acres of her land. Taran drove until she found a small road leading to a probable service entrance.

I opened the door the moment she parked. “Wait here. I’ll look around for anything suspicious.”

Taran fixed her scowl on me. “Ten minutes. That’s all you get.”

I pushed my hair aside. “Trust me when I say I don’t really want to be here.”

“Be careful, dude,” Shayna whispered.

“Shift out of there if you see anything creepy,” Emme added.

I nodded and disappeared into the woods that ran opposite the wall. My predator side moved swiftly and almost silently through the cold night. Pine needles crunched softly beneath my feet. The temperature had dropped considerably, but my thick sweater, jeans, and UGGs kept me warm, especially at the speed I stalked.

The night fell silent except for my movements, which didn’t make sense. My sensitive ears should have picked up the scurry of field mice, the flutter of bat wings, or even the hoot of a few owls. Yet nothing, just me. I continued along the thick pines until I reached the rear entrance and shifted across the narrow road for a better look.

I didn’t get far.

Remnants of a shredded UPS uniform lay a few yards from the metal gates. Teeth sparkled in the moonlight against the black tar road like scattered pearls. A foot shoved into a big brown boot teetered near the edge of the road where thick ferns had begun to overgrow. Most of the skin had been torn from the bone except near the ankle, where dirt and bodily fluid flattened the short curly hairs against bits of leftover flesh.