29. Kieran

The cottage looks the same as it ever did, even to the way the growing moonlight falls over its tiled roof. I'm careful as I move through the little clearing, head moving this way and that.

Pax likes to set traps. I'm not about to mess this up by falling into one.

It seems that he hasn't left any, though—or at least not any I can trip. I take the spare key from its hiding place above the door and let myself inside, frowning at the stale air that fills my nose.

I'm already exhausted. My back has settled into a dull ache, healing slower than I'd like. After taking the bus to Manchester, I got another into a village nearby and then hiked from there.

Public transport doesn't come out here. Why would my dad want any of his wolves interacting with the outside world if he could help it?

I make sure all the curtains are tightly closed before I flick on a small lamp. A warm glow fills the space and I prowl from room to room, even though I'm sure there's no one else here. The cottage is two-bedroomed and small in a way that suggests cosy. It takes me a few minutes to explore and be sure no one's here before I let out a heavy sigh and sink onto the sofa.

I lean forward, resting my face in my hands. Fuck, I'm tired. More than once today, I've thought I shouldn't have come. What can I even do if some vampire is waiting to take Drew out? I can't waltz into the village and warn anyone. Dad would try to kill me as soon as he saw me, and with the state I'm in, he'd manage it, too.

Now that I'm here, I'm glad I've come. Where the fuck are Paxton and Jeremiah? They've been here for as long as I can remember, more or less, and when I left, they promised they'd stay behind and watch over Drew, no matter what.

Sometimes a promise doesn't cut it, I suppose. I know they're in service to someone else—not the Council or the clan, but something bigger, darker.

Whatever. I push to my feet, wincing at the pull in my back and the pain in my chest. My phone is a heavy weight in my pocket, but I'll check it when I'm done.

For now, I need to go to the village. It's just past midnight and not a full moon, so most of the pack will have turned in already.

I zip up my dark jacket and shove a stake down the back of my trousers, another up my sleeve. I've got a bottle of water in one pocket too, and I'm careful as I slip out of the cottage and lock the door behind me. There's no point taking more than I need.

It takes a good half hour to trek through the dense forest and towards the village border. I shiver when I pass through the ward, the only thing keeping the pack from finding the cottage at all. It's a still-familiar magic, even after all this time, but it feels different to what I'm used to with Sam.

Once I'm there, I clamber up an old oak, wincing when I set my back against its bark and it hurts again. I can see one side of the village from here, though other trees obstruct some of the view.

Dad's house—my old house—sits in the centre of the village, though it's not much nicer than the rest. Which is not to say that any of the houses here are shabby. Far from it. We're an old pack, and one that, historically, has taken care of its members. Everyone knows the value of a hard day's work, but we've also never had to want for the necessities of life.

It's a little larger, but that's because of the rooms on the ground floor that are designed as the alpha's office and a meeting space. There's a larger community hall on the other side of the village, just in case a full-pack meeting comes up, but I remember so many nights lying in bed, hearing the murmur of voices float up from below.

That had always been a comfort. Knowing there were other people around, other pack members…

I clench my teeth. Things are different now.

As I watch, a couple of wolves do rounds of the outskirts of the village. There are no real roads, though there are cars parked by some of the houses. This place isn't off the grid, but I know it's only a step away.

But some of those cars… I frown. There's a sleek BMW I'd never expect to see here. It's not parked next to Dad's house either. Someone visiting? Or maybe someone's just done really well for themselves.

The patrols take around forty-five minutes each, and the wolves doing them switch over every three hours. It's all I can do to keep my eyes open despite my precarious position and my discomfort.

Eventually, the sun begins to rise. I duck down lower, hoping that no one thinks to look up into the shadows. The village comes to life over the next hour and by seven, I've seen a handful of wolves I recognise, but even more I don't.

The BMW belongs to some wolf I've never seen in my life. He looks a little younger than me, which means he probably is, and the tilt to his chin when he talks to the others sets me on edge. What's more troubling is the way they all defer to him. Is he a visiting alpha?

It doesn't make much sense. He's staying at Quinn's house, not Dad's, which would be the rightful place for someone of his status. Unless he's Quinn's… mate? Partner? I don't know, and I don't like it.

Hopefully, Quinn and Drew are still as close as they were as kids. At least then I'll know Quinn's got people looking out for him.

By eight, I've had enough, and the village is beginning to get busier. I need to get out of here before someone does notice me, so I slip from the tree and back into the woods, sighing when the cottage comes into view.

I didn't see Drew, but then I didn't see my father either. I let myself into the cottage and kick off my shoes by the door. I'm certain they're both there, and I might try to go back this afternoon to confirm it.

I don't make it as far as the bedroom, not that I really want to sleep in there anyway. I drop face-first onto the sofa, letting out a little groan. I didn't notice any supernaturals in Manchester, when I come to think of it. And I don't know why another alpha—or at least a wolf who seems a lot like he's gunning for an alpha's position—would be here.

Something is very wrong, but I don't have the energy to examine it right now. I fish my phone out of my pocket and turn it on, eyelids drooping as it powers up again.

I have replies from Carey and Vince, of course, with the former much more suspicious than the latter. Sam's sent a few more messages, too, and Pris asks me to check in.

I reply to Pris' message and then one of Sam's, apologising again for leaving him.

My heart skips a beat when I see Lucien's message.

No trouble so far.

I type the next sentence before I can think it through.

May your hunt be fruitful.

I blink at the words, an old pack blessing for the hunt, and roll my eyes at myself before I turn my phone off again. One day near this village and here I am thinking I can be pack again.

No wolf, no pack. Simple.

The thought doesn't cause me as much pain as it usually would, the bond in my chest warming as I turn Lucien's words over in my mind. I surrender and let sleep pull me under.

Two days later and I'm no closer to finding out who Tristan was talking about than I was before. I have seen Drew now, which has settled me some, though with how despondent he's looking, I'm only a day or so away from snatching him up myself.

Something is going on with him and that alpha. Not that I've seen them interact. No. Every time Drew gets so much as a whiff of him, he all but runs back into the house. I keep wishing for Drew to come into the woods, but there's always someone there, watching him way too closely.

I really don't like it.

Tonight, I've done my own circuit of the village before settling back in the oak tree to keep watch. I can't watch everything, of course, but this gives me the best view of Dad's house and, importantly, of Drew's room. If something is trying to get to him, I should see them—they're wandering into a pack, so they'll want the fastest, straightest route possible.

I take a drink of my water and settle against the tree trunk again. My back is just about healed now. The scars should be gone in a few days, though some might remain. Sometimes they do.

A sound in the woods behind me makes me freeze and I tilt my head to the side, listening. There are owls out here, and bats, and furry little creatures in the underbrush, but this sound isn't any of those.

It's more… deliberate. I grit my teeth and twist around, searching the darkness. Someone is trying to get my attention, and I don't like that at all.

I don't like that I'm at a disadvantage, either. I can't see in the dark, and this close to the village, I can't risk a torch. The moon isn't full, but there's enough light coming from the village and above that I know there's no one there.

No one I can see.

I drop to the ground silently, keeping my body low as I move towards where I heard the sound. There's another when I reach it, and another, and I know I'm being led away from the village, but I have a stake at my fingertips already, and I'm ready to fight.

Hell, after all the false starts with Tristan and after the way I've been crawling out of my skin—both from being so far from Lucien and so close to my father—the last few days, I've never been more ready for this.

Turns out, that doesn't make much of a difference.

Cold air rushes past me as whoever's been leading me away moves. I spin, but the vampire—it must be; nothing else can move that fast—dodges aside before the stake I'm holding can make contact.

I frown when the vampire pauses a few metres away, watching me warily, but without any true fear.

"Adelaide?"

She smiles. As far as I can tell, it doesn't reach her eyes.

She moves again, and I meet her with a blow to the stomach that has her hissing and reeling back in surprise. I don't put my stake away, but I don't want to use it just yet, either. She has to be who Tristan was talking about, which means she has to know what's going on. There's no way it's a coincidence that she's here.

"He told me you hit hard," Adelaide growls. I regret never asking about her. All our attention's been monopolised by Tristan, but it's clear she's the more lethal threat.

"Who?"

She doesn't answer. She runs at me again, and when I catch her a second time with a glancing blow that doesn't slow her down, she grabs me by the shoulders and drags me forward. I wheeze out a curse when she knees me in the solar plexus and I land on my back on the ground, all the air knocked from my lungs.

Her eyes flash gold when I try to sit up and though I should be able to buck her off, I can't.

The corner of her mouth twitches. "Surprised?" she asks.

"What, that you're up here or that you've been feeding from a mage?"

Her eyes flare wide in surprise. I'm not supposed to know where she's been feeding.

"Well, well. Turns out you're more educated than we thought."

"We? Who's ‘we'?"

Adelaide shakes her head. "That's not a question I can answer."

"Fine. What's going on up here? What do you want?"

"Interesting order," Adelaide muses. She grins, showing a flash of fang. "The real question is, what are you doing up here? Trying to muscle in on Daddy's latest deal?"

"Deal?" I shake my head. "Tristan told me you'd kill Drew."

"Tristan," Adelaide growls. "Tristan was supposed to remain here with us. Instead, he decided his revenge was more important than our true mission, stole one of our magic users, and stayed down there, causing trouble we don't need."

"And Drew?"

Adelaide snorts. "We're not interested in your brother. Silly, scared little wolf he is—he's not useful to my master." Her eyes rake over me. "But you, on the other hand. You're about to be very useful, I think."

"What are you talking about?"

"You've got a choice to make, Kieran," Adelaide says. Her voice is a little singsong now and I bite back an annoyed sound.

"What choice?"

"You can stay up here and investigate to your little heart's content and know that we will kill your brother for it."

"Or?"

"Or you can go back to London and deal with Tristan for us."

"What kind of choice is that? You've already said you don't want to kill Drew, so if I believe you and stay here—"

Adelaide laughs. Her fangs catch the moonlight and glint dangerously. I have the sudden, horrifying feeling I've missed something very important.

"You'll be doing us a favour, Kieran. Me and my master. We want Tristan dead. I've even got something for you to seal the deal." She pulls a folded piece of paper from her pocket and drops it to the ground next to my head. "Places where Tristan might be hiding. Useful, right?"

"If you have that, why not kill him yourself?"

"Come on. Neither of us is welcome in London, despite my master's recent visit." She grins. "Besides, we have other things to do."

I push again, and this time, Adelaide lets me up, backing up a little. Her expression is mocking.

"Tristan will kill them all if you don't go back down there," she taunts. "Everyone you've ever met if he gets it in his head to do that—and he will."

"What's going on up here? You want me gone."

"Doesn't matter to you."

"Your master told Tristan about my brother." I think he got Jeremiah and Paxton out of here too, though I don't know how.

Adelaide's smile only widens. "Not everything."

"Who is he?"

Gold floods her irises again and magic prickles over my skin. She's not doing anything. Can she? I don't want to risk it.

"My master is the vampire who killed your mother."

Time stops. My whole body seizes up in disbelief because there's not a chance that's possible; there's no way that vampire is up and walking around—

I lunge, but Adelaide is faster, and between the remaining magic and her natural vampire speed, she's gone before I can reach her.

I come to a sudden stop, breathing hard. That can't be possible.

The vampire, whoever he is, killed my mum when I was just a kid. He'd turned on Drew, only a baby, but I did my best to fight him off and then—

I killed him. I know I did. My father threw the vampire's corpse into the woods—into these woods—in the open, in a way we never leave our dead, and I know there's no coming back from that.

I sink to my knees, whole body trembling with the weight of what I've learnt. If Adelaide's master truly is the vampire who destroyed my family, Drew's in danger up here. He has to be.

You'll be doing us a favour…

I can't get him out without being caught. Drew's right to wait until near the full moon, and maybe I need to trust his plan and that these vampires won't kill him.

The longer I wait here, the more chances Tristan has to hurt people I've left behind. To hurt Lucien.

I don't trust any of this. If I'm the one doing the favour, why does it feel like killing Tristan will give Adelaide's master a part of my soul and tie us closer together?

What choice do I have? I know Tristan isn't here. I know now—and I needed to see it with my own two eyes, I think—that Drew is alive and as safe as he can be. Despite everything, I'm certain my father will recognise and retaliate against the scent of this vampire who killed his mate. I'm certain he won't want the son he loves to die.

I rub my chest. The bond hasn't lessened, even with the distance between me and Lucien. I pick up the paper. If I deal with Tristan, then at least I won't be pulled both ways, torn between loyalties.

I get to my feet. I have to go back.