Page 3 of Bold Mercy

I lifted a piece of somewhat heavy fabric from the box. Black, tightly woven, and just a little shiny. It was a protective vest, resistant to blades, bullets, fangs, and claws. I could feel the magic twisted into the threads, especially potent where the fabric would rest over my heart.

Cool.

There was a slip of paper, as well. Do not leave your house without putting this on. This is not a suggestion. It’s an order. The other item is self-explanatory.

~Saul

Saul was turning out to be a bossy son of a bitch. I was surprised he hadn’t signed it, “Saul, your handler.”

The other item was a folded piece of cloth. When I unfolded it, I found, directly in its center, a spot of blood. I stared at it for five minutes before I was able to force myself to bring it to my nose.

I inhaled deeply, pulling in Avis Vine’s awful scent, and even when I had to fight not to gag, throw up, or pass out, I didn’t take the cloth from my nose. I had to get that scent so deep it wouldn’t leave for a very long time, and I had to give it to my wolf.

Avis smelled of old blood and the putrid scent of a dead animal left to rot in the sun, but she also smelled of the cold brisk wind of power. The ugliness wafted in on that wind, chilling me to the bone. Finally, I flung the cloth back into the box, then shoved it away.

I downed a couple of glasses of ice water to wash away the scent, but deep inside, where it mattered, the memory of that scent would linger.

Five minutes later, Ash gave an almost human squeal and raced from the kitchen, and in the next second Lucy yelled, “Who’s hungry?”

Not a question she really needed an answer to, as she knew I was always hungry—as was Ash. I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table as she walked into the kitchen.

“What’s up with your bad self?” she asked me, dumping three white paper bags on the table.

“You spend too much time around my mother.” I tore into the bags. Meat first, then sugar. “Where’s Zach?” I took a giant bite of a cheeseburger, then unwrapped a burger for Ash. I put the bun aside and cut the meat into small chunks as he watched impatiently, a look of fierce concentration in his eyes. “I woke up and everybody was gone.”

“He left with Max—they didn’t say where they were going.”

I frowned. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Zach, but just because Axton was dead didn’t mean Zach wouldn’t withdraw from his magic. And if he started having trouble, I didn’t know what he might do. Or who he might hurt.

Lucy sat down across from me. “Kait, listen.”

I cocked an eyebrow when she didn’t continue. “What am I listening for?”

She didn’t smile. “I have a bad feeling. My dreams…”

“About you?” I asked calmly, though my heart began to thud. I knew it was her. I had known for a while that Jakeston’s killer was going to go after Lucy—because I’d had a bad feeling too—though I hadn’t wanted to consider it.

“Yes,” she murmured. “It’s me. He’s going to take me, Kait. So we need to prepare.”

I shoved my breakfast away. “You shouldn’t have gone out for food. You can’t take chances, Luce. You’ll stay in, I’ll hire a guard—”

“My dreams don’t lie,” she said. “I’m going to be taken. It doesn’t matter if I hide or hire a bodyguard or lock myself in a tower…he’s going to take me.” She squared her shoulders. “So here’s what we’re going to do.”

“We’re not using you as bait,” I said.

“Detective Moreno—”

“Is unwell. He can’t help.”

“He has to help. He’s involved in what happens, as are you. I’ve seen it. We’re all in this killer’s sights, and he’s coming for us.” She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes, looking so unlike herself that it took my breath. She was…grim. And Lucy was never grim. “I’m not afraid. We’re going to catch this killer, Kait. Because if we don’t, he’s going to catch us.”

I knew she was right. I didn’t like it, but she was right.

We had to get him before he got us.

I nodded, then stood. “I’ll go talk to the detective.” Then I glared at her. “You don’t leave this house. Don’t open the door for anyone but me. If you end up with that bastard, it’s going to be because we hand you to him—not because he takes you.”