I scoff and look down at my outfit. Apparently, my red knit wide-leg pants and matching cropped sweater aren’t up to snuff. “I’m in loungewear, Karen,” I argue, and she rolls her eyes. I lift the batwing sleeve of the cute top and wave it at her. “The witches made this for me, so don’t even start.”
She opens her mouth, no doubt a snarky comment already loaded on her tongue. But it’s never voiced, because in that instant, Dillon steps up behind her, reaches around with a clawed hand, and rips out her throat.
36
NOAH
Frigid shock slams into me and tears a startled cry from my throat. Blood sprays across the floor and table, droplets painting me the same color as the alarm and horror pounding through me.
Porcelain shatters and coffee spills everywhere as Karen crumples to the ground, her wide eyes blinking with pure shock and terror. She grabs her throat with both hands as though she can stop her blood from abandoning her. I dive for her as she starts to mouth something. My horror-stricken gaze bounces from Karen to Dillon, who’s just standing there watching all of this like it’s no big deal.
What the fuck is going on?
I look back at the witch, who’s looking more listless by the fucking second, and see that she’s attempting to speak. I lean down to try and catch what it is, but all I can hear is the bubbling of air in her ruined throat and the steady pumping of blood out of her body.
“Can’t spell yourself better if you don’t have a voice,” Dillon taunts, and my enraged gaze flashes up to him. That cruel smile I first saw on him at the diner resurfaces and sends fear screaming down my spine.
Just then, I feel Karen’s shaking hands grab at me. Her weak fingers slide past mine, and she slips something into my pocket, but I don’t look down. I don’t draw attention to it as I snarl up at the deputy.
“What the fuck!” I screech, at a loss for what else to say. Hot tears of rage and loss run down my face, and I look back at Karen as she starts to twitch and relax, her body fighting death with all it has and losing.
Panic pummels me as I helplessly watch Karen’s last seconds. I roar in my head for the guys. Screaming about what Dillon’s done, that they’ve been betrayed, but there’s no answer. That, more than anything, makes it hard to breathe and overruns every one of my senses with terror.
“What did you do?” I snarl at Dillon, hot coffee and blood seeping into my pants. I pull Karen closer to me, but the life in her eyes is gone, her body’s still, and I’m left reeling about how any of this fucking happened.
My eyes dart around, landing on the entryway that leads out to the living room and front door.
Dillon moves to block it, his gray uniform and flat expression making him look as heartless as a man made from stone. My eyes narrow on him. Heartbroken as I am to leave my friend lying here in a puddle of betrayal, I know I’m in serious fucking trouble and I need to focus on getting out of it.
I try again for Ellery, Gannon, Ruger, and Perth, but they’re gone. I hope they’re only out of reach and not…
I shake away that thought and focus on the motherfucker in front of me.
One thing at a time, Noah.
“If you’d just come with us like you were told, none of this would have happened,” Dillon drawls, his brown eyes searing me, disappointment and arrogance pooling in their dark depths. Blood drips slowly off his fingers, the claws of his wolf gone.
“Why the fuck would I have come with you? I don’t even know who you are,” I bark at him, fuming, and then immediately chastise myself for losing control of my temper. I need to be smart about this. I need to buy myself time to get away or stall long enough for someone to come looking for me, four someones hopefully.
But my wolf is practically pacing with feral agitation in my chest, and the fear walloping my heart and head are making it fucking hard to think. Out. Get out! every emotion inside me clamors.
“Stop the bullshit already,” Dillon snaps at me. “Brooks told us all about you two. It’s time to come home, Addison!”
The name jerks at something inside my head, but rage pulls at my heartstrings harder.
He’s one of them.
One of the stalkers.
“My name is fucking Noah,” I seethe. “And I don’t know Brooks, or you, or the other asshole in your den!” A growl rumbles from my chest, my patience running entirely too fucking thin.
This mental case is two left turns past Insane Boulevard, and I’m done with this ride.
“Your name is Noah now, but that’s not what it’s always been.”
My stomach drops like an elevator that’s lost its brakes. I physically jerk back at his statement like he just socked me in the stomach with it.
“Who are you? What are you talking about?” I ask, confusion and dismay so heavy in my tone that it’s weighed down to almost a whisper.
His eyes soften slightly and his stance relaxes just a little. “If you want to know, you need to come with me,” he orders confidently, stretching out his hand as though he expects me to take it. His eyes flash to the windows at the back of the house, and I realize all the roaring and tree tossing has stopped. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad one.
Glancing at Dillon’s hand and then back up to his face, I grind my teeth. I want answers, but not bad enough to trust him for a blood-coated second.
Murderer.
Hitting my limit, I give up on trying to stall him anymore and go with plan B.
Time to fight and try to run.
Rage radiates off me as I call on my wolf. I open myself completely to our connection, inviting her to take over and give this fucker a taste of his own medicine. I wait for her strength and raw power to fill me…but it doesn’t come.
I take a deep breath, recalling everything Perth taught me out in the clearing, and try again.
Nothing.
I close my eyes, begging for my magic to surge forward and protect me, but there’s a wall separating me from it.
My lids snap open and Dillon is smirking at me. His eyes trail behind me, and I follow them to a red crystal that’s sitting in the window frame. I look around and spot several red crystals positioned all around me, and then I look back to the bastard who put them there and notice that he’s standing outside of their circumference.
Without thinking, I take a step back, aiming for the crystal behind me.
“Ah ah ah,” Dillon tuts, pulling something else from out of his pocket with his bloody hand. I can’t tell what it is, but the implied threat is clear.
I breathe through my panic, once again surveying the crystals keeping me from my wolf. I won’t be able to shift as long as I’m standing at their center, and if I try to destroy them, he’s going to stop me.
But…
Without second guessing my instincts, without even looking in the direction I want to go, I leap. I spring with every ounce of rage and fury in my body, tense with anticipation for the second I’m free of the crystals and their effect.
Magic and my wolf surge through me as I soar past the magical barrier, and I beg my beast to take over.
Something big and hard crashes into me, and I go careening into one of the kitchen islands. The edge of the counter cracks and breaks off from the impact, and pain flares through me. My shift stalls with the shock of agony, but I reach deeper for my wolf and she answers.