All that, and Jaxson Laurent.
4
Savannah
Five hours later, I staggered down the stairs in a desperate search for
coffee.
Casey was sitting at the table eating a bowl of Fruit Brute, which featured
a howling werewolf on the front. I was certain it had been out of production
for years, yet he’d bought it from God-knows-where just to troll me every
morning.
“Do you know anyone who makes sleep potions?” I groaned as I poured
myself a piping hot mug of black gold from the pot.
I would have asked Uncle Pete, but he was out of town. Not that I wanted
to drink one of his foul concoctions.
Casey nodded and mumbled through a mouth of cereal, “Yeah, they can
knock you out for days.”
“No, I mean, if you drink it, it’s like you’ve actually slept, because I need
to pound a couple of those.”
“Another rough night?” my aunt asked as she whisked into the roo
m.
Casey met my eyes.
I hadn’t wanted to face the music quite so early, but I knew I couldn’t
outrun this. My mind still echoed with the fortune teller’s warning, and I
could almost feel the sorcerer’s nails digging into my chin.
I sighed and poured myself a bowl of cereal as I filled my aunt in on what
Jaxson had told me.
When I was done, she pursed her lips and put a kettle on the range. “I find
it strange that Ulan Kahanov was the one hunting you.”
“Why?”
My aunt tossed her long silver hair over her shoulder. “I knew of him. He
was a creepy bastard, for certain. But from the little you’ve told me, this