There was another possibility, however. A more direct and logical possibility that had nothing to do with the women. It made apprehension slick cold down Remy’s scalp
Gideon had sent his wolves to hunt Lost Legacy’s alpha, Landelarc Sable, and it was a huge contingent of warriors. Far more than was necessary to bring in one alpha.
After breaking his leg, Lan had left the safety of the Preserve, preferring to heal in an undisclosed location. Even Owen didn’t know where he was. Remy guessed the alpha had a secret den somewhere on the mountain. Lan was an old school werewolf, which meant he spent as much time in the wild and in his wolf body as possible. It was probably practical, as well, since weres healed faster that way.
Remy hoped to hell Lan was back to full strength, because from the looks of things, he was going to need every bit of it before this full moon faded.
Abruptly, the memory of Lan taking his submission not long after he’d arrived at Lost Legacy came back. The dreadful pressure of fangs on his neck.
Afterward, Lan had said, “You are mine now and you belong to the pack, but there is a higher law. One we forget at our peril: follow your heart.”
Being fifteen, Remy had scoffed.
“In the years to come,” Lan had said, “choose wisely, but when wisdom fails—and it will—follow your heart. The taproot of feeling digs deeper than years, defeats all boundaries, and leads us inexorably to the heart of all that is—the ground of being where we are all one. Never lost, ever found.”
The words had meant little then, but things had changed.
Crispin sat on Lilith’s shoulder as she surveyed Gaebryl’s quarters. He’d expanded the headroom of the cave by several feet to accommodate his height and, either by magickal or mechanical means, smoothed the stone surface of the walls until they reflected an elegant sheen. The space was surprisingly cool and dry with one huge chair in the corner. Besides the enormous chair, the only other area that could be identified for seating was the rectangle in the center of the wide space covered by a plush, ornate rug strewn with dozens of cushions. Every few feet around the perimeter of the rug, the space was dotted with low three-legged tables.
Books littered every available flat surface, most of the them leather bound with titles stamped in gold and skinny strips of red satin dangling from the thick spines. Three pairs of spectacles lay stacked on a side table next to the big chair, one of them patched at the bridge with a length of white tape. The other two were each missing a lens.
Four huge white feathers filled a tall, clear glass vase standing by the window.
Which hadn’t been there any other time she’d been summoned. The window, that is.
After all, even for a seraphim, it was hard to create a window in the wall of a cave deep inside a mountain.
It looked like a perfectly ordinary window with a nice wooden sill and four-over-four panes that revealed a lovely landscape of distant snow-capped mountains surrounding a mirror-bright lake. She didn’t recognize the scenery except that it seemed vaguely European. All it needed were a few draft horses and a cheery holiday banner.
She pointed at the window. “Is that the gate?”
He nodded and sighed. “Leaving it open makes me homesick.”
Not opening that can of worms. “So how do I use it?”
Crispin rolled his tiny eyes and sighed heavily. “If it were a real window, what would you do?”
“Lift the sash and climb out.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
“And you promise to keep it open?” Lilith asked.
“If my lord Gaebryl can’t open it, you’ll have bigger problems to deal with than a simple portal problem.”
“So not comforting.”
He hopped from her shoulder to the side table next to the big chair.
Lilith walked forward.
At that moment, the window shimmered as if she viewed it through a sheen of heat. She blinked and paused. The image wavered then zoomed to a pinprick-sized circle. Lilith stepped closer and reached out with one hand, feeling for the demarcation line between the room and the gate itself. The tips of her fingers buzzed when she found the spot.
“You should probably stand back,” Crispin warned, but his voice faded.
Everything faded.
A rush of wind lifted Lilith off her feet. She slammed into the far wall of the cave and slid to the ground, dazed. Then darkness consumed her.
Remy walked steadily but quietly. He judged that the weres closest to his location were at least half a mile distant. The urge to run in order to catch up with Lilith was almost overpowering, but weres loved nothing better than a good chase, and he wasn’t about to become their prey. He was generally safe around the Lost Legacy weres, but if he was correct, the ones on the hunt tonight belonged to the Pacific Range pack and had been sent by Gideon. There were too many, though. Far more than Gideon would need even if he’d planned to bring in Tasha, Lilith and Lan.