I grabbed the clothes from Sam and rushed into Jaxsonâs bathroom while the two of them muttered about what to do next. It was hard not to eavesdrop with my keen hearing. Sam was distraught about the sleepers.
They were also talking around something else that they didnât want me to know about.
Ears burning, I tried to think of what to do as I slipped into Samâs clothes. Even though she was more toned, we were a decent enough size match. I zipped up and admired myself in the mirror. While Jaxson had seen my bare ass from plenty of angles now, I liked how taut it looked in Samâs skinny jeans.
I smiled when I unfolded the shirt. The front had an illustration of a derby skater beside big bold letters that said, . I flipped it over, and my smile melted.
My canines started to inch down, but I held them back and pulled the shirt over my head. It was plenty tight, and as I didnât have a bra, Jaxson was going to see exactly how ready I was every time I got near him.
I sighed. He could smell it, anyway. I had to figure out how to mask it or get used to constantly being a horny beacon.
I returned to the kitchen and sat down on a stool at the high-top counter, trying not to look at the powerfully built man as he stepped up right beside me and poured me an espresso. âHave you eaten?â
I blushed. My wolf had stolen a snack of bacon strips off someoneâs plate at an outdoor café. Did that count?
âSort of?â I breathed in the rich aroma that wafted up from the cup, though it couldnât mask his scent. âThis is what I really needed. Thanks.â
Sam put her palms on the counter. âForget coffee. Weâre fucked and need a new plan. You got lucky when you caught up with Kahanov in Italy. And even if you find him again, he could slip away like last time. Meanwhile, each night, dozens more wolves will likely go to sleep and not wake up.â
I cleared my throat. âIt might not be wolves for long. If the pack doesnât hand me over, he might target someone more pliable. Vampires. Demons. Otherâ¦crime families. Anyone he could pressure to take me out. We need a way to break the spell.â
Jaxson nodded. âI had a curse diviner look at the sleepers this morning, and I also called some folks in from the Order. Theyâre still researching. Dream magic isnât well understood, and the best source of information was apparently that stolen grimoire.â
âWeâve got to do something,â Sam protested.
I chewed on my lip. âHow old is the grimoire? Is the witch who wrote it still alive? Could we go directly to the source and ask her what to do?â
Jaxson and Sam both stiffened. He flexed his fist. âThat would beâ¦unwise. If the witch is still alive, sheâs probably not someone we want to risk dealing with. She could be worse than the sorcerer.â
âWhy? Because a powerful woman wrote a book?â I scoffed.
Sam leaned forward, eyes sparkling. âGrimoires arenât just books, Savy. Theyâre tomes of dark, sinister magic that practically have a life of their own. Some are written in blood and wrapped with human flesh.â
My skin prickled at the sudden chill that crept over me. I could smell the danger in her words, and I shivered.
Shadows crossed Jaxsonâs face. âWolf legends say that witches and warlocks write grimoires to snare the souls of curious readers whose lust for power is greater than their common sense. Anyone who would create a thing like that wouldnât hesitate to trap us with their magic. Itâs too dangerous.â
The two looked down at the table, and I swallowed hard. A long silence stretched between us.
I tightened my fists. âThe clock is ticking, and we canât wait. If she can tell us how to undo the curse, itâs worth the risk. Who knows? If this witch is really as bad as you assume and sheâs trying to snag powerful souls with that book, then maybe sheâll help us just to get Kahanovâs.â
Jaxson frowned. âI donât thinkââ
âAnyway,â I interjected, âyou wolves have a pretty skewed sense of the dark artsâa label that seems to include a broad array of things like scrying and my own magic. So letâs maybe ask someone less superstitious and see how crazy an idea this is.â
âWe donât even know if the witch is alive,â he said, a knife edge of protest in his voice.
I raised my hands. âWho do we ask, then?â
Jaxson bared his teeth as he studied my face. Finally, he gave a reluctant grunt. âFine. Sam, call Neve. She was the one looking into the book. See what she knows or can find out.â
Sam pulled out her cell phone and stepped away as Jaxson drummed his fingers on the table in irritation.
I took a deep breath. âIn the meantime, I have a stopgap plan.â
âWhat is it? Make a deal with a devil? Summon the minions of hell to hunt him down?â
I froze. I hadnât thought of that. My aunt could summon demons, and I wonderedâ¦but no. I shook my head. âMy aunt made a circle of protection around my bed to keep the sorcerer out of my dreams. Maybe we could make a big one where wolves could come sleep to protect them from Kahanov.â
He shook his head. âIâm not sure wolves would be willing to sleep in the middle of a sorcerous enchantment, particularly one made by the LaSalles. Theyâd assume it was a trap.â
âYouâre alpha. King Wolf. Canât you make them? By the second night, everyone would know it worked.â
His eyes flashed gold, and I smelled his frustration and mistrust. His canines dropped and claws began to push from his fingertips. âYes. The pack will do as I say, but I canât make Laurel do anything, and she wonât help us. Thereâs been too much bad blood over the years.â
âMaybe not my aunt, but I might be able to twist my cousinâs arm.â
Jaxson gave a bitter laugh. âThe lead distributor of wolfsbane in the world? I guarantee heâs not going to help, he even knows how to do anything else but blow things up.â
Images of the weapons manufacturing operation flooded my mind, and my stomach twisted. But I knew deep down that my cousin was better than that. He had to be. Iâd seen it.
I could make this happen.
âYou donât know him,â I growled defensively.
Sam, who was still on the phoneâbut apparently monitoring our conversationâjust rolled her eyes.
Jaxson rose and stalked to the side of the room. âI know enough.â
Pangs of protectiveness shot through me, and I snarled. âIt canât hurt to ask. And if he doesnât know how to do it, maybe he knows someone who does.â
I held my breath as Jaxson considered. His pack wasnât going to like this. They were in danger because of a LaSalle, and now the only way they were going to be able to sleep safely was in the middle of a LaSalleâs hex.
Finally, Jaxson stirred. âDo it. Ask.â
âGive me your phone.â He handed it over, and I dialed Casey as I swiveled around on my stool.
Ragged breathing came across the line as he picked up. âLaurent, you motherfucker, is Savy with you?â
What was Casey doing? Running a marathon?
âHey, Case, itâs me. Iâm borrowing Jaxsonâs phone.â
âWhere the hell are you?â
I put my finger in my ear to block the sounds of Sam on the other line, talking to Neve. âIâm in Dockside. And I need your help with some magic.â
âCool. Great. Letâs play a different game. Do you know where the hell I am?â he wheezed.
I sighed and rubbed my temples. âIn my room, rummaging through my shit like a drugged-out badger, by the sound of it.â
âClose. Iâm on a ladder trying to get to your open window to check if youâre dead or not. Unfortunately, itâs a little short and pretty unstable.â
I leapt off my stool. âAre you nuts?â
âYou werenât answering your phone, and your door is locked. When I saw the open window, I was worried youâd been abducted or something!â
âIâm fine!â I snapped. âIâm in Dockside with Jaxson and Sam, and weââ
Casey made a strangled sound. âOh, my gods, Savannah, you didnât have him over last night, did you? I thought I heard a man snoring this morning. It was like a lumberjack choking to death on a muffin. Tell me you two werenâtââ
âNo! Seriously? I got up early and left. I locked my door without thinking and then couldnât get my cell.â I thanked God that we were talking on the phone and that Casey never seemed able to pick up my lies.
âOkay. Good. Because Mom would kill you. What are you doing in Dockside, anyway?â
I ran my hand through my hair in exasperation. âShit is going down up here, and we need your help. That circle of protection that Aunt Laurel made around my bed, do you know how to make one of those?â
âYes. But Iâm not making one for your wolfy love den, if thatâs what youâre thinking.â
âNo! Damn it, get your head out of the gutter.â My fingernails were beginning to itch. I tried to steady my voice. âLast night, the sorcerer put twenty-one wolves to sleep, and we donât know how to break the spell. Heâs going to keep doing it. We need a way to protect these people while we bring him down. Could you make a giant circle of protection in like, I donât know, a gymnasium? Somewhere a lot of people could gather.â
Casey paused, and I could hear him gently sucking on his teeth. âShit, Savannah. I donât know. Iâm pretty sure they want to skin me alive up there.â
âTell the little punk he still owes us for the damage you two caused during your car chase,â Jaxson snarled.
I bared my teeth at Jaxson and made a chopping motion in front of my neck to cut him off, but it was already too late.
âWas that Jaxson in the background? Tell that creep to shove a stick up his ass! He already stole our container to cover it! Screw this.â
Casey hung up.
I growled and felt my fangs erupt. âDamn it! Iâm handling this, Jax. Keep your mouth shut!â
Samâs eyes went wide, and Jaxson bristled at my command. âI told you he wouldnât help. Heâs a wolf-hating creep. Heâs probably laughing his ass off at the moment.â
âStay quiet this time!â I snapped. Sam cringed again at my blatant disrespect for her alpha, but I didnât care. I dialed Casey back.
He picked up. âNo.â
âCasey! Please.â
He was breathing hard, and it sounded like he was climbing down the ladder. âNo way, Jose! Iâm not dealing with Jaxson and not coming to Dockside.â
Jaxson looked ready to wolf out, so before he aggravated the situation further, I stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door. âLook, Case, Iâm sorry about Jaxson. Please, do this for me, if not for the wolves. Theyâre suffering because of me. Protecting them protects me.â
Silence hung in the air, and then he sighed. âFine. But Iâm not going to Dockside.â
I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, and the shirt sparked an idea. âWhat about the roller derby rink? Itâs big and has bathrooms. Could you make something there?â
âI guess? What are you thinking?â
âLike a FEMA shelter. Big circle of protection where werewolves can sleep safely.â
He whistled low. âThereâs no way I can make one big enough to fit all the werewolves in Dockside. There are thousands of them.â
âWeâve got to try something. Thereâs a lot at stake.â
Casey considered. âOkay. Fine. Tell that our debt is paid, and heâs gotta release our stuff. Heâll know what Iâm talking about. Iâm bringing backup to help make the circle, and if anyone looks like theyâre going to bite, weâll blast everyone.â
âIâll tell him something like that, in a diplomatic and courteous way,â I grumbled.
âFine. Iâll get my shit together and meet you all over there.â He hung up.
I stalked out of the bathroom and gave Jaxson a glare. âHeâll do it, no thanks to you. Also, give him his container of shit back.â Before he could protest, I swung to Sam, whoâd finished her call. âWhat did you learn?â
âNeve is hunting down the author and will give you a call when she knows more. She wanted me to remind you that the grimoire was committed to the Archive of Bound Tomes because it was dangerous. Anyone capable of committing that kind of knowledge to paper would be perilous, too.â
âI donât see that we have any choice.â My mouth went dry, and I met Jaxsonâs eyes. He was brooding in the shadows of the back corner, arms crossed. Waves of power poured out from him, and his scent gave off one clear signature: protectiveness. For his pack. For Sam.
He didnât like this plan. But I also sensed he would do anything to protect the pack.
Finally, he nodded.
I took a deep breath. âOkay. We have a plan. Make a circle of protection. Bargain with the witch. And stay alive long enough to hunt down Kahanov and kill him.â