“After the source.”
“You know who it is?”
Kerak clenched his jaw and met her concerned gaze. “I believe I do.”
Chapter
Eight
Wylder
“Goddamnit.” Sigurd stood up from the table and paced. “A new Hunter? Are you sure?”
Wylder felt for his uncle. Silva, too. They’d been pitted against the old Hunter for over thirty years, had him contained, and suddenly someone new had come in and was throwing a wrench in all the plans that had worked before. Plans they’d fought and bled for. The plan his mother died for. It hadn’t seemed like such a big deal to him when he and Silva found out, but now that he’d had a moment to process, he understood why they were so upset.
He and Silva had left the safehouse as soon as the sun came up that morning and made their way back to the Seers Guild. From there, it’d taken a single step through the right door to put them back in Solston. It was disorienting, but worth the time saved.
“Alban didn’t want to tell me but couldn’t let me walk away without knowing. I don’t think he’d have given up the information if he wasn’t certain.”
“Shit.” Sigurd stopped and rested his hands on his hips. “What do we know?”
“Beyond that, there’s a new Hunter and three vampires attacked us as soon as we stepped off the bus? Nothing.”
“Do you think Alban had something to do with that?”
“No.” Silva sighed and propped his elbows on the table. “I think they’d been following us since the Guild.”
Wylder mirrored Silva’s pose and looked from his mate to his uncle. “What I want to know is how is this even happening? If the door is sealed, how does Alban know about the Hunter?”
Sigurd sighed. “Tears in the veil between realms, most likely. Cracks. Before we closed the door, they occurred here and there on their own. But with the door sealed, someone would have to open them.”
“Could people pass through those?”
“No,” Silva said. “They’re difficult to open, harder to maintain, and very, very small. Before we closed the door, darker Fae used them to whisper to humans. Stories of the Hunt and other monsters to keep the Fae feared and to cause general mischief. It’s possible someone on the Fae side has been creating cracks to convey information to those on this side who are eager to hear it.”
“Okay, so we find the people on this side that have been receiving that information.”
Silva stood. “We already have. It’s time we go talk to Ansel.”
“Before you go,” Sigurd said, looking from one to the other before settling his gaze on Wylder and raising a brow. “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”
Wylder was a grown man, and he tried his best not to squirm, but he knew that tone. Sigurd already knew, and he suddenly felt like an unruly teenager again. Only this time, he hadn’t done anything wrong…but he still didn’t know if Silva was ready to share that they were mates. Wylder understood that, even though the thought stung.
Silva looked at Wylder, a pleased little smile lighting up his face and making the corners of his eyes crinkle. Suddenly, that sting he’d felt vanished. That one look told Wylder everything he needed to know.
“We’re mates, Sig,” he said, gaze never leaving Silva’s.
Sigurd walked around the table and rested his hand on Wylder’s shoulder. “I know, lad. And I’m happy for you.”
He pulled Wylder into a tight hug before turning to Silva. “I suppose I don’t need to give you the shovel talk?”
Silva smirked. “You can if you want. Just give me a heads up, I’ll make popcorn.”
“You’re an ass.” Sigurd chuckled and held out his arm. Silva gripped Sigurd’s forearm as Sigurd did the same to him.
“He will only ever have the love and protection he deserves. You have my word.”
Sigurd’s eyes went shiny as Wylder’s heart gave a wild thump in his chest.