“Don’t.”
“— then that’s an asset.”
“I said don’t.”
“I’m not telling you what to do. I’m telling you what we have.” She picks up the pencil. “If you can get close to him without compromising what we’re doing, that’s useful. If you can’t, we do this the hard way.”
She’s right. I hate that she’s right. A connection to a ranked Forrester wolf gives me access to the local intelligence network. Conner could know something without knowing its significance. He could be my way to the families.
“Another thing,” I say. “I spent yesterday canvassing the town. General store, gas station, diner… It wasn’t any better at the bar. Every person I spoke to gave me the same thing: a smile and nothing. These people have been handling outsiders their whole lives.”
“Then stop pushing,” Briar says. “You’re drawing attention for no return. Let him come to you. You’ll learn more from one conversation where he’s relaxed than from a week of knocking on doors nobody’s going to open.”
I press my fingertips to my throbbing temples.
“I need to call my aunt.”
“Take the second phone.”
There’s a trail behind the motel that leads up a low hill. I climb until I can see Cedar Falls below me: rooftops, water tower, the Forrester compound in the distance. Orderly. Prosperous.
Somewhere south of here, three Ravenclaw families are waiting to be found.
I call Brenna. Give her the picture: Briar’s found Ravenclaw scent trails heading south through a corridor that runs close to a compound. The route is deliberate—someone chose the terrain. The Forrester pack controls this territory, and they’re hardline purist. “Not confirmed as involved. But they’re sitting on the route, and Briar says the trail doesn’t look random. Someone managed the transit.”
Brenna listens. Then: “The Forrester pack. I know the name. Purist for years. No Syndicate ties that I’m aware of. But packs like that don’t need Syndicate connections to make magic-blooded wolves disappear. They just need to look the other way.”
“It might be more than looking the other way. Briar needs a few more days to build the picture, but the corridor runs through their core land.”
“Then build it. Carefully.” A pause. “Conner Forrester. You said you met him.”
“At the bar. The night we arrived. He seemed to… take an interest.”
“What’s your read on him?”
“Respected. Has authority. He’d know what moves through this territory. Could be a source.”
“Can you get close?”
“I think so.”
“Be careful, Willow. If he finds out what you are—”
“He won’t. I’ve hidden my magic signature like you taught me.”
“Good. Call again in forty-eight hours.”
She ends the call. I sit on the hillside. My wolf is still restless, attention aimed at a man who’d hand me over to his pack if he knew what I carry.
I don’t know what it means. I’m not ready to find out.
But I know I’m going back into that town. And I know I’m going to find him.
That should scare me more than it does.
Chapter 7
Conner