Halston’s lips formed a thin, grim line. “Whatever it takes. With her ability, it’s far too dangerous for the Void if she falls into the wrong hands.”
Far too dangerous for the Void. Of course that was the reason I was being given full support. It didn’t matter that Willow’s life was in danger. Or that she’d been a valued member of the Void. Or that she was a fae in the hands of some random vampire or shifter. No, it mattered that she had the ability to turn vampires into daywalkers, and the Void wanted to keep that little secret tightly under wraps. Typical. But all that mattered was I had the full weight of the Void behind me. “Thank you,” I said and signaled for Link to follow me. “I’ll be in the research center until Allcot regains consciousness.”
The director nodded, and as Link and I left, I was already texting my contacts back at the Cryrique compound.
8
Dax pulled his ten-year-old Trooper onto the dirt road that led to a large white plantation home. The old house was off of River Road, south of New Orleans, and surrounded by moss-draped oak trees. He eyed the dozen beat-up cars parked out front and knew something was going down.
“Looks like we’re in for an interesting evening,” Sebastian said, tapping his thigh in a steady beat.
The tension rolling off him had Dax itching to escape the truck. Both of them were wired, and if they kept feeding off each other’s energy, neither one of them was going to be able to play it cool with the rest of the pack.
Dax blew out a breath as he pulled the Trooper to a stop and eyed the large plantation. Light glowed from all the windows, and two shifters were stationed out front.
Steeling himself, ready for anything, even the possibility that the pack had abducted the two fae, he climbed out of the Trooper and moved with purpose up the walk, Sebastian right behind him.
“Marrok. No one said you’d be here.” A shifter Dax knew only as Stone eyed him.
“I must’ve forgotten to RSVP,” Dax said dryly, not slowing down as he climbed the front steps.
“Hold up. Who’s the pretty boy?” Stone jerked his head toward Sebastian. “Your new boyfriend?”
“Sounds like you need a date, Stone.” Dax said. “Want me to set you two up?”
Sebastian let out a low growl, making it clear to them both he didn’t appreciate the exchange.
“Relax, pretty boy. I’m already taken,” Stone said as he let out a short laugh and opened the door for them, waving them in. “Good luck in there.”
Dax frowned, wondering why the hell they’d need luck but not asking. He’d find out soon enough. He walked through the entrance and was surprised to hear only a faint murmur from somewhere in the back of the house. When a dozen or so shifters were milling about at the compound, usually the decibel level was somewhere around a dull roar.
“Do you have a plan?” Sebastian asked, following Dax through the house.
“Not yet.” Dax made his way to the back of the house, scanning the empty rooms as his heavy boots echoed on the old hardwood floors. Finally he came to a stop at the end of the hall and pushed the door to the left open.
Inside, Nova Bandu, the leader of the Crimson Valley wolf pack, was at the front of the room, scribbling on a blackboard. He wore his dark hair in a man-bun, and he had at least three months’ worth of beard growth. His jeans were rolled up, and he was sporting suspenders over his plain white T-shirt. The shifter was easily over sixty years old if Dax remembered correctly, but thanks to the antiaging properties of the shifter gene, he looked like every other thirtysomething hipster in New Orleans. Twenty or so Crimson Valley wolves were seated in folding chairs, most of them leaning forward and hanging on Bandu’s every word.
Bandu turned around as he said something about canvassing the Bywater district. But when his gaze landed on Dax, he stopped abruptly and called, “Marrok! There you are. I was wondering where you’d gotten off to.” He gestured to an open seat in the front row. “We saved a seat for you.”
“You hang out back here,” Dax said under his breath to Sebastian. “Don’t ask them about anything, just listen and see what you can pick up.”
“Got it.” Sebastian took a seat in the back row next to two shifters who looked bored as hell. Good, he thought. If they weren’t interested in whatever Bandu had to say, maybe they’d find something more interesting to talk about.
A scattering of murmurs traveled through the pack as everyone watched Dax move to the front of the room. Before Dax claimed his chair, he scanned the shifters and let out a small sigh of relief when he spotted Leo and Dali on the far side of the room. At least the two of them had managed to stay out of trouble.
“Where were we?” Bandu asked, staring at his blackboard.
“You wanted a group of us to canvass the Bywater,” one of the shifters called out.
“Right.” Bandu turned around and eyed Dax. “We heard about your friends, the fae couple. We’re making a plan to search the city. If they’re still here, we’ll find them.”
Dax’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Why?”
Bandu’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why? Why not?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s exactly the right thing to do. But have you thought this through? Tangling with the vampires means walking headfirst into this simmering war.”
“You said it yourself, Marrok. It’s the right thing to do.” Bandu turned back around—but not before Dax noted the irritation in the leader’s expression—and continued to write down the various neighborhoods of New Orleans on the blackboard.
Dax kicked his feet out and smiled to himself. He’d wondered if Bandu was the real deal. The shifter leader had positioned himself as a man of conviction, ready to put himself on the line to do the right thing, to push boundaries to right any kind of wrong. The entire war against the vampires was based off of trying to stop the vampires from exploiting vulnerable shifters. It was good to know his convictions included helping species other than his own.
After Bandu identified the five neighborhoods where a vampire was most likely to locate a hideout, he assigned all the shifters in the room to canvassing shifts, even Sebastian, whom he welcomed without suspicion. Then he had each of them pledge to recruit a few friends to help them search for possible hideouts.
“That’s it for now,” Bandu said. “Those of you headed out now, don’t forget to stop by the arsenal to arm yourselves.”
The shifters all got to their feet and started to move out of the room. More than one placed a hand on Dax’s shoulder in a gesture of support as they brushed past him. Once the pack cleared out of the room, Bandu took a seat next to Dax.
“I’m glad you made it,” Bandu said.
“Why didn’t anyone call me?” Dax asked.
Bandu studied him for a moment, but instead of answering, he stood. “I want to show you something.”
His interest piqued, Dax stood and followed Bandu into an adjoining room.
Bandu flipped the light on and Dax sucked in a sharp breath. Three of the walls were covered with brutal images of supernatural beings, each of them mangled and soaked in blood. The fourth wall had images of young shifters, all of them with haunted expressions.
“What’s this all about?” Dax asked, dread creeping into his chest cavity, unsure if he really wanted to know.
“All of these people?” Bandu nodded to the ones who’d been brutally beaten or murdered. “They were attacked by vampires. Used as food or ripped to shreds for daring to protect someone else from becoming food.”
Dax’s stomach rolled. “How…” He swallowed the bile rising in the back of his throat. “Where did all these pictures come from?”
“We have someone who works in forensics,” Bandu said, his expression flat and void of any emotion. “I asked for a running record. He sends them over once a month.” The leader walked over to a small desk and picked up a thick manila envelope. “This is last month’s delivery. Want to wager how many pictures are in here?”