My breaths grow rapid again and my nails curve into my palms, threatening to break through skin.
My forearm throbs in time with the wounds on my thigh from Grayson’s claws and this time the dullness in my senses isn’t welcome. It’s a hindrance.
Say we make the cure. It’s in the journal and we make it, the ingredients easy to access and easier to throw together. We deliver it to me, to Grayson…
But it’s too late for him.
What then?
A horrible twist of fate brought us together and I’ve failed him. Hell, I’ve failed everyone, myself included. But I’ve never been the important one. Not really.
I’m the first-born daughter of an alpha and there are so many other things in life that are more important than me. My family, my responsibilities, the expectations of the pack and keeping the survivors safe.
I lumped Grayson in with them, but he’s the one who paid the price. He kept fighting for me when I didn’t deserve it.
The only thing I’ve done for him is exacerbate his symptoms by dragging him out here on this wild goose chase.
I drag my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them, rocking slightly.
“I’ll find a way,” I say. “It’s not too late.”
I keep watching for him but he never comes and my heart burns for him. I want to look for him, foolishly, running right back into the consequences of my actions.
But I can’t leave Lacey alone.
I must pass out again because the crack of a twig wakes me out of a stupor and I bolt to my feet, instantly lightheaded.
RJ steps into our small clearing with her cell in hand and Aimee a heartbeat behind her. “Whoa there, Mandi, it’s fine. It’s us. We found you.”
She says it like the expression I wear labels me as dangerous, which isn’t the case.
I shrink into myself and my strength flagged. “What time is it?”
“Late enough we only have a few hours to wait before dusk,” RJ says. “Here. Thought you might like this.”
She reaches into the backpack flung across her shoulders and tosses a bottle at me.
My knees buckle but I will them to push me forward. I catch the familiar glass and break the seal, downing half the store-bought iced coffee in one go.
“Bless you,” I manage once I’ve had my fill and sugar charges through my veins.
“Where’s Lacey?” Aimee asks. Her brows lift when I point to the oak. “Wait. You buried her alive in a tree trunk?”
“It was either that or have her suffer from third degree burns and possibleburningalive.” I wrap my arms around my torso. “I thought this was a better plan. She’s fine.”
“Sure.” The sisters share a look and RJ coughs to clear her throat. “Now where’s the journal?”
“I’ve got it.”
I hand off Charlotte’s journal, a petal falling from the pages on the transfer. Rather than the typical brown, this petal retains its color. A rich pink brushed with orange at the tip, it looks and smells as fresh as if she’d plucked it seconds ago.
The sight churns my stomach and memories flash in garish 3D Technicolor in my head. The inside of the trailer, stupid Fifi Floofkins, the beautiful smile the shaman’s daughter wore as she giggled us to a gruesome death…
“It’s about time we find some answers.” The sisters crouch low and place their heads together to read in tandem.
The clearing goes quiet as they peruse the journal. I glance behind them, turning in circles. Where is Grayson? And Colt? Was he able to escape the sun?
If so, the two of them should have shown up by now. Unless something happened and neither of them made it out of the attack. The ringmaster might have caught up to them along with more bloodsucking clowns?—