“We should go to Felicity for help,” I explain, speaking my thoughts aloud as the idea takes deeper root in my mind. “What’s that saying? The enemy of my enemy is my friend? Or something like that. If we join forces with Felicity, we could work together against Quinton. And she might even be able to help with Frost’s… problem.”
Behind me, Frost stiffens at the mention of his shadows.
Kian barks a short laugh. “You can’t be serious. Felicity has been against us for years. Why would she work with us?”
“Things change,” I point out with a shrug. “People change. You never thought your old alpha would be your enemy, did you?”
Kian’s expression doesn’t change, but he inclines his head in silent agreement.
“We never thought the four of us would become allies,” I say. “Even more than that. Friends. Lovers.”
There are other words I could use for what we are, but I clamp my lips closed around them, keeping them locked away.
Malix glances over at me as if he’s plucking those words straight out of my brain anyway. Something passes through his features, and he shoots a look at Kian. “She’s got a point, bro.”
But Kian shakes his head. “There’s no evidence that Felicity is strong enough to help Frost. Whatever source of shadow magic she took from Quinton when she left is obviously failing her now, since he’s managed to harness her shadows for his own means.”
“There’s no evidence she isn’t strong enough either,” I say firmly. “We need help, whether you like it or not. She commands a pack, and her interests align with ours. She’s our best option.”
Malix nods. “She might be our only option.”
Suddenly, our conversation is interrupted by twin beams of light that cut across the living room walls.
I stiffen and go on high alert, attuning all my senses to the world outside the boarded up farmhouse. Gravel cracks and crumbles beneath tires as a car pulls up the drive.
“Shit,” Kian mutters, surging to his feet. “Get under cover. All of you.”
I slip off Frost’s lap and take his hand, tugging him off the couch after me. He lets me take the lead without question, following silently behind me as we pass into the foyer and head for the coat closet near the front door. I don’t wait to see what Malix and Kian do or where they go; I just close the door lightly behind us and crouch in the darkness with Frost.
His fingers circle my waist as we wait together, both of us barely breathing. Even through the walls of the house, I can hear the car come to a halt and a door slam. Heavy footsteps wander up the driveway, then the porch shivers under the approaching individual as whoever it is makes their way toward the door.
A low, staticky sound meets my ears, followed by a tinny voice saying, “Radio to 359, copy on your twenty.”
A cop, I realize, and slide my fingers over Frost’s. I don’t know how he’s going to react to a figure of authority.
Please don’t try to come in, I silently beg the police officer.
Swallowing hard, I press my head against the wall and listen. Frost’s small, shallow breaths brush across the skin of my bare shoulder, and he presses his lips there, almost as if to steady himself.
Outside, a thick country accent speaks up. Male. Deep.
“Son of a… what the hell happened here?” More footsteps creak across the porch, coming closer to our location, then bypassing us and heading toward the windows outside the living room. A moment later, the officer bounds down the stairs, and his footsteps move off into the grass around the side of the house.
“Leaving?” Frost whispers.
I shake my head. “Not yet.”
We vibrate with tension but remain frozen on the floor of the closet. What will happen if the cop tries to come in? Obviously, he’ll have to break through the boarded up doors—or maybe even break through a window, instead. And I don’t know what we’ll do if he does. We are not murdering a human just for our own safety.
I’m formulating a plan in my head that includes busting past him in our shifter forms and taking off into the night, when he returns, his footsteps crunching on the rough ground as he comes around the side of the building. He speaks up, his voice ringing out through the evening.
“Hey, yeah, Chief? I’m out here at your grandaddy’s place. Leon Needmore called us earlier with a crazy story… Oh, you heard? Yeah, the place is beat to shit. Someone’s boarded up both the front and back door, and there’s a couple broken windows. What you wanna do?”
I fight the urge to groan. So not only did we get caught, we got caught at the chief of police’s grandaddy’s abandoned farm.
Fucking hell.
“Nah, it’s empty,” the officer goes on, his tone seemingly unconcerned. “Shone my light through the windows that didn’t have the curtains closed, everything looks quiet.”
Good. That means we all managed to get hidden before Barney Fife rolled up on us. Thank goodness we closed the living room drapes so he couldn’t see our leftovers sprawled across the coffee table.
There’s another pause as he listens to the man on the other end of the line. “Sure, boss. I’ll call Kevin and have him meet us out here first thing tomorrow with the right tools. My guess is some hooligans decided to have a party and tried to cover their tracks. If you’re sure there ain’t nothin’ here to be stolen, I’ll head out.”
I ease back against Frost’s chest, some of the tension draining from my body as the officer’s boots crunch farther away. A moment later, his car door opens and then closes. His engine roars, and his tires creep away, vanishing into the silent night.
Frost and I remain where we are, listening intently to the sound of the cop car fading into the distance.
Then the closet door slams open, startling us both.
Frost growls protectively and throws his arms around me, tugging me back into the shadows beneath the few hanging coats above us.
Kian eyes us, his expression hard. “Time’s up. We leave before dawn. Let’s get some sleep.”
“Leave to go where?” I challenge.
He rolls his eyes and walks away, leaving the closet door standing open behind him. But his voice floats back to us as he heads for the stairs.
“We’re going to pay a visit to Felicity.”