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  Instead, he found her staring at the walls. She bit her lower lip, a trait she did when she was anxious. She seemed to be nervous on a regular basis now. And sick. It just didn’t make sense.

  He coughed to announce his presence. She jumped out of her skin. He shook his head and spoke. “Have you seen Joe?”

  “Not since he left this morning,” Eve answered. “Why?”

  Before he could answer, there was a furious knock on the door. Before Micah could call out to whoever it was, the door was almost torn off its hinges. Caleb and Samuel stormed inside. “We got a text from Joe.”

  “Me too,” Micah answered.

  “I can’t believe those sons of bitches took off with her.”

  “Who?” Eve questioned as she wandered from the office into the living room.

  Micah handed her his phone. “The bloodsuckers. They’re heading to Connecticut with Sarah. Joe’s going after her.”

  “He needs our help,” Samuel added.

  “I know.” Micah rubbed his bow for a moment. “Get the other boys. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

  “See you in a bit.” Caleb nodded and then followed Samuel out of the cabin. Micah turned to his mate to find her gaze locked on the screen. “Eve?”

  “Something isn’t right. Joe doesn’t text like this. He hates it when people abbreviate their words in a text. This one is full of it.”

  Micah took the phone from her hands. “His mate was just abducted by a bunch of vampires. He probably dictated into the phone.”

  “Still, the phone…”

  Micah silenced her with a kiss. “I don’t have time to debate this. I’ll see you in a few days. And maybe we can talk about what’s going on with you when I get back. I love you.”

  He turned and strode out the door. He heard her call “I love you” as he walked away.

  »»•««

  Eve frowned as she watched her husband and his brothers climb into Micah’s Jeep and Caleb’s truck. It wasn’t that Micah basically dismissed her without letting her get a word in before he left. She knew she’d been cold. She just had a few more days, and then she would be ready to tell him that they were having a baby. She was already showing a bit, even though it was a little early.

  No, there was something with that text. It was Josiah’s number, but it wasn’t him. It was like someone spoofed his number.

  She gasped out loud then near sprinted back inside to the computer. Her fingers flew across the keyboard. Websites popped up and then disappeared. Black screens followed. Then additional sites, ones not meant for her eyes, appeared.

  She caught something move out of the corner of her eye. She looked up to find Meg in the doorway with Ruby in her arms. Delilah and Henry were slipping in behind them.

  “Cay said they’re heading to Connecticut,” Meg said as she held Ruby close to her. “Something about Josiah’s mate getting kidnapped by the vamps.”

  “They are,” Eve answered. “But I don’t think Josiah sent it.” She stroked the keys a couple more times. “Shit. Holy shit.”

  “What did you find?” Henry asked as they all filed in behind her to look at the screen.

  Eve pointed at the website. “This is Josiah’s actual text. He did text his brothers. But he’s heading to Maine. Roman Lycan kidnapped Sarah. Not the vampires. His text was blocked.”

  “Roman Lycan?” Delilah questioned.

  “A werewolf who fought Micah after we mated. He’s who Mike beat for the Middleweight belt. Roman was sent by Atticus to bring the boys to Maine. And before you ask, Atticus is our grandfather-in-law. Zane’s dad.”

  “Why would Atticus send his grandsons to face the vampires?” Meg questioned.

  “Give me a second.” Eve started typing again. The screen changed over and over again. She slammed her fists on the desk. “The text to the other six came from Connecticut. The vamps are jamming the phones and spoofing numbers. They’re probably jamming ours too.”

  Delilah looked at Henry. “Don’t text Sam. Call him. Tell him Joe is headed to Maine.”

  Henry nodded and tapped on his cell. He waited for a moment but then ended the call. “I got a disconnect notice.”

  “Did you dial the right number?” Meg questioned.

  Henry held up his phone. “Sam is on speed dial. It worked last night.”

  “What does this all mean?” Delilah demanded.

  Eve sat back in her chair. “It means the Hallows are gone. We are alone.”

  “And we’re sitting ducks for a vampire attack,” Henry added.

  Eve leaped to her feet as the four of them raced out the front door. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Littlefoot’s truck outside Momma’s cabin. They hopped up the porch stairs and stormed inside. Momma and Littlefoot sat in the living room, each holding a tiny china teacup. A pot of tea was settled on the coffee table.

  “What in blazes are you four doing?” Momma demanded.

  “We’ve got to go,” Henry answered.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Mike, Cay, Sam, Josh, Zeke, and Abe are going in the wrong direction,” Eve answered. “The vampires sent them to Connecticut. Joe is headed to Maine to Atticus. I hacked the cell phone company and looked into our accounts. They even jammed our phones. Without the brothers here, they’ll come look for the amulet and Henry.”

  Littlefoot rose to his feet. “Neither can be here when they arrive.”

  “So where are we going?” Delilah asked.

  “We’ll be safe on the reservation,” Littlefoot replied.

  Meg shook her head. “We have to go to Maine. Joe is on his own against a very large pack of werewolves. The six have each other.”

  Littlefoot was silent for a moment. “I agree. Let’s get to the reservation first. I’ll get my nephews. You three ladies should stay behind.”

  “Fuck that.” Eve crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not leaving my brother high and dry.”

  “The baby, Eve.”

  She gritted her teeth. “We’re going with you.”

  Littlefoot shook his head. Then he offered his hand to Momma to help her to her feet. “Evelyn, go get the amulet. You don’t have time to pack. We have to clear out.”

  “All right.” Momma glanced at each of them, confused, before she hurried into her bedroom.

  “The rest of you grab your passports,” Littlefoot ordered.

  “Got it,” Delilah and Henry replied.

  “Sure,” Meg agreed.

  “Don’t have one,” Eve said.

  Littlefoot shook his head. “Then we go south and hope Joe did too.”

  “I’m going to get Ruby’s diaper bag.” Meg cradled her daughter closer as she scampered out the door.

  “If we’re going to go after Joe, how do we find him?” Henry inquired.

  “Our communications are blocked, but I’ll bet our GPS systems aren’t,” Eve answered. “I’ll get his coordinates, and we’ll follow him. You and Delilah can meet me at Sam’s truck in five minutes. Meg and Ruby can ride with Momma and Littlefoot. See you at the cars in a bit.”

  She hurried across the camp back to her cabin. It only took her a minute or two to track Josiah’s GPS. She was right. He was nearly to the Twin Cities. She synced the coordinates to her phone and then ran to the truck. Henry and Delilah were waiting for her. Littlefoot’s truck was just disappearing down the lane into the trees.

  “Littlefoot said to stop at Sharky’s for gas,” Henry told her.

  Eve nodded. She slumped against the door as he fired on the motor. The camp faded away behind them as they plunged into the forest.

  The trip through the forest always seemed to take forever. Eve was glad when the trees broke, and sunshine filled the cabin of the truck. Littlefoot’s truck was already parked alongside the ancient gas pump. He and the older man with slicked-back hair and overalls stood outside.

  Henry pulled up to the other side of the pump. He, Delilah, and Eve jumped out. Before he could touch the gas cap, Sharky waved
him away. “Meester Hakimi, ye let me do that. Ye three kids go get a soda from the shop. Get one for Meggie too, will ye?”

  Henry raised his hands in surrender as he backed away. “Of course, Sharky. I know better.”

  Eve kissed the top of Sharky’s head. Sharky had given her a place to sleep when she had no place to go. The old man had a special place in her heart. “Thanks, Sharky.”

  She saw him blush as she hurried after Henry and Delilah into the garage.

  Chapter Eight

  The drive to Maine was a nightmare. Josiah could barely flex his fingers. They cramped from gripping the wheel too tight for a hundred miles. Not to mention his almost constant erection was thicker and more painful the farther he drove. He didn’t have to ask why. The full moon would rise tonight. Now he understood what a pain in the ass this was.

  He had no idea if he was going in the right direction. He did his best to focus on that pull, that mystical force that mated him to Sarah. He knew it had led his brothers and their mates to do some crazy shit. Maybe it would lead him from Minnesota to Maine without as much as a roadmap.

  The only problem was that he was so terrified out of his mind that he couldn’t concentrate on the road in front of him. He couldn’t hone in on the pull if his life depended on it. The only thing that got him from point A to point B was the snapshots of highway signs that those bastards that took Sarah texted to him from her phone. Or maybe they were forcing her to do it. He hoped they were. That meant she was still alive. Their clues took him south instead of the more obvious route across Canada. That was a good thing. Caleb was the only Hallow with a passport.

  As each hour grew on, he needed the phone less and less. The burn of lust nearly consumed him. When he crossed the border into Maine, he unzipped his jeans to free his cock. He couldn’t stop himself from stroking it as he drove. He fought to maintain concentration on the road. He almost rear-ended two semis as he came hard in his hand. The full moon would rise tonight, and it was leaving him in blissful hell.

  He’d left Bangor in his rearview mirror an hour ago. The pictures on his phone led him straight north. He passed through several small towns. They were replaced with thick woods the farther he drove. It reminded him of home. That fact unnerved him. What the hell was he walking into? Worse yet, where were these sons of bitches taking his mate?

  His truck was engulfed in woods as he turned off the highway onto a barely paved lane. The whole vehicle was jostled like a ping-pong ball, and even though his hands ached, he gripped tighter. He could barely make out two tiny red dots ahead of him. Despite the deep shadows the trees cast on the road shrouding any danger, Josiah floored it to try to catch up.

  The tree line faded then broke away into the brilliance of the late summer afternoon sunlight. He was back in another small town complete with brick storefronts and little houses. Except this community was cut off from the rest of society. Its townsfolk shot cold stares at him as he drove past. In the other places, they offered a warm wave as a greeting. It was obvious they didn’t take kindly to strangers.

  As Josiah reached the plush green town square in the center of the town complete with a whitewashed octagonal bandstand in the center and a playground on the far northeast corner, he caught sight of the largest building in town. At first glance, he took it for the town hall. A second look confirmed it as a mansion that looked like it was transplanted from the Deep South. It was red brick like the storefronts in town. Its pillars matched the bandstand in the square. A grand concrete staircase matched the at least ten-foot foundation it was raised up on. Windows lined each side of the building including the foundation. However, the ones embedded in the concrete base were lined with steel bars.

  Parked in front of the building was a white dented van. The back door was wide open. That must have been the two red dots he saw. He hadn’t witnessed another vehicle in the entire town. He slowed his speed as he crept closer to it. He could make out three figures ascending the steps to the white ornamental double doors at the peak. It was two men with a woman between them.

  Josiah barely threw the truck into park before he exploded out of the driver’s seat. He dodged the van doors and sprinted up the stairs. He didn’t stop until his fist connected with Roman Lycan’s face.

  Roman dabbed at the trickle of blood that dripped from his nose. He sneered at Josiah. “I know where your mate gets her right hook from, Hallow.”

  Josiah’s gaze shot to Sarah. Other than her pale complexion and rumpled clothes she looked all right. She was alive. That was what mattered.

  Her voice broke as she spoke. “Joe.”

  “Let her go, you motherfucker,” Josiah demanded.

  “Josiah.”

  Josiah spun on the step toward the door. No one was there before. Now both of the double doors were open, revealing the opulence of the inside. At the top of the stairs stood an old man. Despite his age, he had a broad, muscular frame. His snow-white hair and beard reminded Josiah of an old Santa Claus figurine Momma treasured. Despite the summer heat, he was dressed in a pair of black pressed slacks, burgundy suit coat, and a white linen shirt.

  Josiah frowned. “How do you know my name?”

  The man smiled. “Because you look like Zane. Your father. My son.”

  The revelation stunned Josiah. He sucked in a deep breath and shot a cold glare. “Atticus.”

  “Yes, that’s who I am.”

  “Explain something to me. Why the holy fuck did you send these assholes to Minnesota to abduct my mate and drag her here? Hmm?”

  Atticus’s smile grew wider. “For this. For you to finally come home.”

  “Minnesota is home.”

  “You’ll change your mind.” Atticus nodded to Roman and Albanus. “Take her downstairs and settle her into one of the cells.”

  “Cell?” Josiah objected.

  Atticus turned his attention back to Josiah. “You know what tonight is. She will be safest in the cell. You are free to visit her whenever you wish.”

  Josiah snarled at Atticus and then turned back toward Sarah. He could take on Roman and his buddy. It wouldn’t be easy. But Sarah was a fighter, right? Maybe she could lend a hand. All he knew was that he needed to get her away from these three before the moon rose.

  Josiah’s bravado sunk as he faced the small town. All the cold, unwelcoming townspeople were no longer in their shops or homes. They had gathered at the base of the staircase glaring at them. It was almost cult-like. And there weren’t fifty or sixty. There were hundreds. And all their stares were locked on him. He swallowed hard. Atticus was right. Behind bars was the perfect place for Sarah. It would be the only safe place for her in a gigantic pack of werewolves.

  Sarah whimpered. “Josiah?”

  He lowered his head and shook it. “Go with them, Sarah. Trust me. If you don’t, you’ll die.”

  He didn’t lift his head to watch Roman and Albanus haul Sarah the rest of the way up the steps and into the house. He just focused on the cement under his feet. He thought he was screwed when he sold his soul in his agreement with Rock and Cort. Now being here with his grandfather’s pack, the one his father escaped? He was royally fucked.

  He didn’t move when the voice behind him spoke. “Come inside, son. We should talk.”

  Josiah stormed up the steps until he was nose to nose with Atticus. “I’m not your son. My name is Josiah. If that’s too hard for you, call me Joe. That’s what my mother calls me.”

  He didn’t miss the growl that escaped Atticus’s throat. With a smug smile, he strode into the house, leaving the older man outside.

  »»•««

  Sarah laid her head back against the cool, hard wall. The smoke-painted concrete floor beneath her butt was equally cold. Sunlight streamed through the bar-lined window. It had been an exceptionally long night without sleep. It wasn’t the lone bunk with the thin mattress that kept her awake, even though it might have been more comfortable sleeping on a rock. It wasn’t the overwhelming musty smell of the old basement coll
iding with the scent of fresh paint. It was the sound of growling, of scratching on the concrete, the howls that were just outside the window that terrified her. Whatever animal it was found its place only a mere foot or two away. And it couldn’t have been just one. It sounded like there were at least a dozen predators outside, if not more.

  Josiah said she would be the safest in this cell. Sadly, she knew he was right. She hadn’t seen a human since she was locked inside. Maybe they took cover from whatever was outside too.

  She groaned as she sat on her fingers. Josiah. Even the thought of him set her on fire. She struggled not to touch herself as the ecstasy drove every coherent thought from her mind. It was futile. She made herself come at least three times. Each time she cried out so loud it frightened away whatever was outside, at least for a little bit. The need to have him stretched out on top of her, of her straddling him, of him buried so deep inside her it filled every crevice of her, grew steadily stronger the farther Roman dragged her across the United States. She needed relief, and only Josiah could give it to her.

  She sat up straight when she heard the door up the stairs open. The click of boots on the wood steps echoed off the walls. She scrambled to a crouching position. Whoever it may be wasn’t going to get the upper hand. She would be ready, and she wasn’t going down without a fight.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she met her lover’s stare. “Josiah.”

  His clothes were rumpled. His skin was damp and pale. He looked like he was coming down with the flu. And she still wanted him so much it hurt. She stood up straight. Without a thought, completely on instinct, she skimmed her fingers along the hem of her shirt. She tugged it off over her head and tossed it on the floor.

  “Are you all right?” she asked as she brushed her nails across the curve of her breast. His entire body stiffened at the sight.

  “It was a rough night,” he replied, his voice deep and dangerous.

  “You’re getting sick.”

  “Sick of being what I am, yes. But am I ill? No.”