I pulled the money clip from my pocket. “This was left at the scene of the crime.”

  He took it and frowned as he inspected it. “Convenient for you, no?”

  “Maybe a little too convenient. But it’s our only lead, so I’m following it. Even if it’s false, it was planted by someone.” Maybe even my brother. “Perhaps they can lead me to answers.”

  Maurice nodded. “I see your point.” He handed back the money clip. “You’re correct. That is the symbol of the Ascending Brotherhood. You’ll find them on the west side of the main docks, the ones with the freighters from overseas.”

  “Thank you, Maurice.”

  He nodded. “Be careful. They’re a nasty bunch. Fairly new to the area but aggressive. I heard they operate out of one of the old freighters, Mary Lou or Mary Sue or something like that. Thing hasn’t moved in years.”

  “I owe you.” One day, Maurice would come calling for a favor, and I’d need to be ready to pay.

  If I was still alive, of course.

  He nodded, then waved me out the door.

  I left his shop and made my way across London, moving quickly. The midday sun was hidden behind thick gray clouds, and the chill in the air bit into my skin.

  By the time I reached the docks, it was early afternoon—likely a quiet time for the gang, which would be good for me.

  As with all of the docks in this part of town, it was gated off and protected by guard shacks that admitted a slow trickle of cars and lorries. But there was no way that the gang handed over their ID every time they wanted to get into their headquarters.

  There had to be another way.

  I hurried around to the west end of the docks like Maurice had said. It was a massive area shoved up against some old warehouses, only half of which still had the glass in the windows. The chain link fence that separated me from the docks was tall and topped with barbed wire. Towers of shipping containers sat on the other side of the fence with no one in sight.

  It was the perfect place to cross.

  Perhaps there was a way through somewhere—a hole, or even a little door—but I wouldn’t waste time looking for it. Instead, I climbed, moving swiftly up the fence to the barbed wire. It would have been difficult for a human to get past the spiked barrier, but I made quick work of it, using my shifter strength and agility to launch myself over without getting cut.

  I landed silently on the other side, then darted into the shadows of one of the shipping containers. For the briefest moment, I listened, using all my senses to determine if anyone was near.

  It was quiet.

  I set off across the lot, sticking to the shadows of the containers as I patted my pocket to make sure there was still a transport charm within. I was here on recon, but I’d be vastly outnumbered if I were discovered. Speed was vital. I could have brought backup, but we weren’t here for a fight. Just information.

  When I reached the end of the row of containers, I spotted the docks themselves. Massive freighters were roped off to the pylons, one of them rusted and ancient.

  That had to be the Mary Sue or whatever it was called. Dock space here had to be expensive, and one wouldn’t leave a worthless ship tied up in this port.

  To my right, about fifty yards down, a group of men maneuvered a collection of large boxes toward one of the vessels. Other than that, the coast was clear.

  I headed toward the men, who looked like deckhands rather than gang members. The downside of approaching during the day was the light. I needed a disguise.

  I passed the men, who ignored me as expected, and found a small office built into a shipping container with one glass wall. I ducked inside and grabbed a white hard hat and clipboard. The disguise might not work, but it was worth a try. At the very least, they’d hopefully approach me before attacking.

  I left the office and strode across the dock, moving back toward the ship that hopefully housed the gang. I passed two other men in hard hats, both of whom nodded at me, and then I turned onto the slip that housed the freighter. The vessel towered to my left, rising at least fifty feet in the air.

  At the end of the dock, a ladder led up to the deck. A man stood at the base of it, arms folded across his chest. He turned and spotted me, a frown creasing his face.

  “Oy, what’re you doing here?” he called.

  “Inspections.” I raised the clipboard, not slowing my pace toward him.

  “You know you don’t do that here. All you blokes know.” He strode toward me, fists clenched. “Now get out of here before I throw you out.”

  I smiled. “I’m sure there’s a mistake. I’m new, you see, and—”

  The man reached me and swung. I ducked, avoiding the punch, then lashed out and struck him in the gut. He heaved out a breath and doubled over. One more punch to the head, and he was unconscious.

  Quickly, I dragged him into the shadows behind a shipping container that sat near the edge of the dock. He slumped like a ragdoll as I tore a strip off his shirt to gag him and bound his wrists with his belt and his ankles with his shoelaces.

  Finished, I brushed off my hands and headed toward the ladder, leaving the helmet and clipboard behind. My ruse had worked as long as it was going to.

  The dock was still empty as I climbed the ladder to the top deck. I slipped over the railing, tension prickling along my skin.

  Would I find Garreth here?

  Part of me wanted to, part of me didn’t. We knew he was in league with these bastards, but I didn’t want to face down the idea of him willingly working for them.

  The deck was quiet as I searched it, moving between the high stacks of shipping containers. No doubt anyone who was on board was down below. I found an entrance to one of the cabins and slipped inside the austere hallway.

  There had to be an office somewhere, perhaps with information. Maybe even a person I could question.

  A noise sounded from behind me, and I spun around. A skinny lad with a tattoo under his eye and a torn leather jacket stared at me for a split second, shocked, then shouted, “Intruder!”

  Damn it.

  I charged toward him, but he turned tail and ran. I followed, deciding that Plan B was my best bet now—grab one of the men and transport him out of there to be questioned later.

  The lad disappeared down a hallway, but another figure appeared.

  Shocked, I nearly stopped running.

  Garreth.

  My brother looked skinnier than he had before, with shadows under his black eyes and a pallor to his skin that made my heart ache.

  “Garreth.”

  “Lachlan.” He backed up, putting space between us. “You need to get the hell out of here. There are nearly two dozen guys on this ship.”

  “Come with me.”

  “Can’t, mate. Not yet.”

  Footsteps pounded behind me. A lot of them.

  Garreth nodded to an exit just behind him. “You can get out that way.”

  “Come with me. Help me stop this.”

  “Grab one of the others if you need answers, but I can’t come. Not yet. And I can’t be seen near you.” He sprinted down the hall, away from me.

  I wanted to follow—to drag him back—but my pursuers had turned the corner. Nearly a dozen of them crowded into the hall, then rushed me.

  How the hell was I going to take them all in such a small space?

  As if in answer to my prayers, a man appeared through a doorway to my right. He wore glasses and the tired look of someone who spent a lot of time doing research.

  I grabbed him, plunged my free hand into my pocket for my transport charm, then hurled the thing to the floor. It exploded upward in a poof of silver smoke, and I lunged inside, dragging the man with me.

  The ether sucked us in and spun us around, spitting us out in the courtyard in front of my guild tower. I braced myself, waiting to see if anyone had followed us.

  They hadn’t.

  The man struggled, trying to break away from my grip. “I don’t know nothin’! Let me go!”

  “Of course you do.” I pulled him toward the castle. “Now, come on. I have some questions for you.”

  12

  Eve

  * * *

  We visited Liora for the second time in almost as many days.

  As she opened the door, confusion sparked in her blue eyes. She was the age my mother would have been if she were still alive, but a combination of sunscreen and magic kept her looking far younger.

  “Eve, are you all right?” She ushered me in, and Mac followed.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Liar.” Concern echoed in her voice. “Come sit down, and let me get you some tea. It’s good to see you again, Mac.”

  “That would be amazing, thank you.” Liora’s tea was famous for its restorative properties. She always added a bit of magic that I’d never mastered, but every time I drank it, it reminded me of my first weeks here with her. I’d been devastated by the loss of my mother and the revelation that I was meant to be Lachlan’s mate. Liora and her tea were my safe port in the storm, and in a sense, this place still was.

  Within minutes, we were seated in her cozy living room with the tea spread out on the table before us. Mac and I shared the little loveseat, and Liora took the squashy chair across from us. My honorary aunt had the style of an old hippie, her place full of colorful cushions and braided rugs.

  I took a sip of tea, sighing at the warmth that rushed through me.

  “Tell me what brings you here again so soon,” she said. “I kept looking for a cure for you, but I didn’t find one.”

  That was expected. She’d known she couldn’t help me, but she’d tried anyway. I nodded my thanks and told her everything we’d learned so far, finishing with, “You knew my mother. Does any of this sound familiar?”

  Liora frowned and shook her head. “Unfortunately not. As far as I knew, she was a regular werewolf. She never mentioned any of this to me.”

  “And my father?”

  Shadows crossed her face, and she looked like she wanted to hex him. “That good for nothing was no one special.” Her mouth twisted, as if she were holding back more curses, and then she stood. “I’ll be right back.”

  She left the room, and Mac and I shared a confused glance. “What was that about?” Mac asked.

  “She hates him for leaving my mother before I was born. I hate him for that, too, actually.”

  “Do you know why he did?”

  “No, only that it wasn’t for a good reason. It’s not like he had to go off to war or take care of my sick nan or anything. Mum always made it sound like he just up and left because he didn’t want the responsibility.”

  “Bastard.”

  “Exactly,” Liora said, charging back into the room. Her stride and voice were equally irritated, and she flopped into her chair. “Your mother gave me something to give to you in case you ever asked about your father.”

  “What?” Confusion raced through me. “Why didn’t she give it to me herself?”

  “Because she knew how you felt about him. You wouldn’t have wanted anything.”

  “That’s true. But why didn’t she hold on to it herself? She died in a car crash. It’s not like she knew what was going to happen to her.”

  “A seer once told her she would live a short life.” Sadness creased Liora’s features. “I’d wanted it not to be true, but in the end, it was.”

  My heart twisted at the memory of learning about the accident. Tears pricked my eyes, and I felt Mac grip my hand and give me a squeeze. I clung to her and met Liora’s gaze. “What did she give you?”

  She handed me a battered silver locket, and I took it. “From what I understand, he gave it to her. She made it plain that she wanted this given to you if you asked about him.”

  I nodded and took it, closing my fist around the cool metal. “Do you think he’s still alive?”

  “I don’t know. But his last known location was a village on the east coast of Scotland called Avereen.”

  “Is it a big village?”

  “Not terribly, but without his name, it might be tough to find him.”

  “You never knew his name?” I hadn’t. My mother had never told me, and I hadn’t wanted to know.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t. I think she might have once said it was Tom, but I’m not certain of that.”

  “Okay, we’ll look for a Tom to start.” I stood. “Thank you so much.”

  “Good luck, dear.” She hugged me tightly. “Your mother would be proud of you.”

  My vision grew watery, and I blinked the film away. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.” She pulled back. “Be careful, now. Let me know if I can do anything.”

  “Will do.”

  Mac gave her a goodbye nod. “Thanks for the tea.”

  “Of course.”

  We made our way out onto the quiet London street, then turned to each other.

  “We need more than a town and a first name,” I said, looking down at the locket in my hand.

  “Does that offer any clues?”

  I tried popping it open, but it wouldn’t work. “It’s stuck.”

  “Stuck or locked?”

  “Hard to say.”

  Mac held out her hand, and I passed it over to her. As she inspected it, my mobile vibrated. I pulled it from my pocket and opened it to find a text from an unknown number. I scanned it quickly, my heart leaping. “Kenneth, Lachlan’s second, just sent me a message. He says my father was called Thomas Mackay.”

  Mac stepped closer, trying to read my mobile over my shoulder. “Really? Does he say anything else?”

  “Says he visited my mother once after she’d moved to Guild City and joined Lachlan’s pack. But he didn’t stay long. That’s how they got his name, though. They don’t have an address or anything for him.”

  “But now we’ve got a full name and a town. That’s bound to be useful.”

  “Thank fates.” I tucked the mobile away. “We’re getting somewhere now.”

  Mac gripped my arm, her touch comforting. “Are you hanging in there?”

  “Fine. A bit worn down, but fine. Once we get to the bottom of this, I’ll be right as rain.”

  “But what about Lachlan?”

  I frowned, bemused by the question. “How is he doing?”

  “No, how are you doing with him?”

  With a sigh, I muttered, “That’s not as fine.” I looked at the street, searching for the words. “I care for him. More and more every day. I know I shouldn’t. It’s downright dangerous. But he’s so…good inside. I don’t know how to describe it…but I like him. I trust him.”

  Mac nodded. “Makes sense, given the fated mate thing and all.”

  I laughed bitterly, dragging my hand through my hair. “Yeah, that. I wish it didn’t exist.”

  “If wishes were horses.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me along. “Now, let’s go find your father and sort all this mess out.”

  She pressed the locket back into my palm, still shut tight. I strung it around my neck, patting it down and vowing I’d figure out how to open it.

  Mac and I took a transport charm to the tiny town of Avereen. It was a beautiful village of old buildings backed by rolling hills on one side and the sea on the other. As we stood in the middle of the town square, I turned in a circle, taking it all in.

  “I’d expected it to be on one of the islands,” I said. “Not mainland.”

  “It’s been a long time since the old wolves were around.”

  I’d told her everything we’d learned, and she’d started calling my possible ancestors the old wolves. I liked that name, even though I wished I had something more accurate to call them.

  “How the heck are we supposed to find one person in a whole town?” Mac asked. “Google him? Social media?”

  “Doubt he has a Twitter account.” I spotted a church on the other side of the square. “Let’s ask in there. Churches often know all the people around.”

  “Think your dad was religious?”

  I shrugged. “We can only hope.”

  The church itself was a quiet, serene space. Small and ancient, it was filled with little wooden benches that faced the altar at the front. The stained glass was beautifully ornate, but the rest of the building was simple in its decoration.

  An old priest came out from a back room, eyes brightening when he saw us. “Good morning. How can I help you?”

  “We’re looking for someone,” I said. “Thomas Mackay. He used to live here.”

  “Ah, that he did. Come to pay your respects, have you?”

  The words hit me like a fist to the gut. Mac gripped my hand, and I managed to keep my face bland. Mostly.

  The priest seemed to have noticed that I was a bit off and frowned. “I’m so sorry. You didn’t know?”

  “Um, no. But that’s all right. Does he have family in the area?” Did I have family? Not that I could really consider them that. Perhaps they were related to me by blood, but having never met them, they were no more than strangers.

  “I’m afraid not. But he’s buried in the old cemetery on the west side of town. Back left.”

  “Thank you.” I turned to go, then looked at the priest again. “You never knew him, did you?”

  “Alas, I did not. Knew his sister before she died, that’s how I knew of him.”

  “A sister?” I’d had an aunt.

  He nodded. “Died of the flu. Nasty thing.”

  Damn. “Thank you.”

  He nodded, watching us as we left.

  “Well, that’s a bummer,” I said.

  “To say the least.” Mac searched the square in front of us, then pointed. “I think the cemetery is that way. Want to go?”

  I nodded. “Might as well.”

  We set off across town, my nerves making me jittery the closer we got.

  “How do you feel?” Mac asked.

  “Relieved and disappointed at the same time.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “It’s not like I knew him. Or wanted to know him. Or like he wanted to know me.” My throat tightened a bit at the thought, and I blinked away tears.

  “We make our own family,” Mac said. “That’s the most important bit.”

  I smiled at her. “You’re right. And we’ve got a good one.”

 

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