Page 57 of Hunted

“That’s… out there, but it’s not the craziest theory I’ve heard this week. The Blackout attack shook up the power structure within the Tracer pack. It’s no longer stable. Guillermo and Alek can barely stand to be in the same room together. But I still can’t believe either of them would openly help Rossi.”

“Neither can I.”

“Are they going to be a problem?”

“I’ll handle it.” There was the sound of typing in the background. “We also found some personal entries of Rossi’s on the laptop.”

“I saw. Could be useful.”

“They seem… scattered. You think they’re legit?”

“Maybe? I update handwritten notes every day. Every three months, I lock the journals in a safe deposit box. One of my brothers knows where to find them in case of an emergency. It’s a sort of insurance policy in case anyone ever rewrote me and I couldn’t trust my own memories.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. I didn’t need to explain any of this to Fallon. You just couldn’t do what we did, day in and day out without imagining one day waking up unable to remember who you were. All Tracers kept a touchstone, a way of finding your way back if another neural manipulator scoured all your memories, left you an empty shell like Rossi was doing with the vampire scientists on the ALDD project.

“I wouldn’t trust anything on a computer,” Fallon said at last. “Too easy to alter.”

“Maybe Rossi doesn’t have anyone he can trust. We need to find his brother.”

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “We’re moving. I’ll text you when it’s over.”

* * *

DALLAS AND LACEY’S RESTORED HOME in the historic district of downtown Blood Moon was all decked out for trick-or-treaters. A scarecrow and a skeleton wearing checked red plaid shirts and coveralls sat together on the old-fashioned country swing on the wide wraparound porch. Garlands of cornstalks and sunflowers festooned the porch railing, tied with festive gold bows. A sign that read Black Cat Crossing had been staked into the front garden, the black cat in question having had its witches hat bedazzled with sparkly rhinestones. My brother’s doing, no doubt. Considering how obsessed Dallas was with ordering cat-related items off Etsy on his lunchbreak for their adopted rescue Fancy, I was kind of surprised there was only the one sign.

The front door swung open before we could knock.

I hadn’t seen Guillermo in person since the meet with Zara and Cris. My uncle looked possibly even more haggard than August, his dark wavy hair in need of a cut, the starkness of his features indicating how much the hunt for Rossi was taking out of all of us. I focused, trying to glimpse into his mind, but he was as walled off as he had been weeks before.

Ellie tensed, but after only a second’s hesitation, lifted her chin, standing her ground.

“August, there you are. Brody and Topher are slaying me at Fortnite.” His eyes flicked over Ellie coolly before landing on me. “River.”

As he led August into the house, I tried not to read too much into the fact that he’d all but ignored me. Ellie’s fingers slipped into mine, squeezing softly as we shut the door and went inside.

“You made it,” Dallas called, bumping the oven closed with his hip and angling a tray of meatballs towards a counter that was already overflowing with delicious things to eat. “Hang on. Just need to find some place to put this.”

“Give me that,” Ben Caldwell ordered in his Alpha’s voice, commandeering a pair of oven mitts and taking the pan. “I haven’t seen you sit down or eat anything all afternoon. Take a break.”

“Yessir.” But my brother was smiling. He and our father hadn’t had the easiest go of things growing up, what with his and Ethan’s constant fighting and later his banishment from the pack after infecting Lacey with lycanthropy. Ben Caldwell had been raised by a feral wolf father and those chaotic early traumatic childhood years had informed some of his decisions as both an Alpha and parent. Since being recovered from a vampire prison, he’d been trying hard to reconnect with all of us, but especially Dallas and Ethan.

Dallas made his way over to us, swiping a strand of dirty blond hair back behind his ear. He had on his favorite Cowboys apron and smelled like Italian spices. “We’ve got a great spread tonight, so grab a little of anything that looks good and remember there’s more on the way. Right now we have Italian appetizers to nibble on. I’d start with the stuffed mushrooms with goat cheese and breadcrumbs, then try the fried ravioli with four kinds of cheese, tomatoes and spinach. There’s a sampler platter with mini pizza squares in four varieties: Hawaiian with Canadian bacon and fresh pineapple, Margherita with fresh basil, mozzarella and tomato, a traditional pepperoni, and a meat lovers with olives and pepper. And then there’s spaghetti with a garlic tomato basil sauce.” He smiled warmly at Ellie. “I made a meatless version that’s in the green pot on the end of the counter. Hayden already tried both versions and said she preferred the vegetarian.”

“Thanks, Dallas,” Ellie said brightly. “I can’t wait to try it.”

“There’s grilled portobello mushroom or chicken strips to go on top, plus I also baked some meatballs. Lacey made some of her legendary garlic bread that Vlad eats an entire loaf of every time he comes over. I made a creamy baked mac and cheese with sharp cheddar that’s Luna’s favorite dish right at the moment, plus a big salad. For Halloween themed desserts, we have chocolate bat-shaped cookies with cute little white fangs from Blair’s Bakery, plus caramel apples dipped in white chocolate and peanuts, and pumpkin spice cupcakes with cream cheese frosting.”

“Speaking of all this yummy food.” Lacey came around the island holding their one-year-old daughter. Luna had on a purple t-shirt with ruffled sleeves and a smiling fanged bat on it plus matching black leggings printed with tiny bats and pumpkins. Dark wispy hair framed big gray eyes she’d gotten from Lacey. “Someone wants some more cheesy mac.”

“That’s my girl.” Dallas scooped up his daughter, blowing a raspberry into her cheek and earning a big gummy smile. “You love everything Daddy cooks.”

Lacey snorted. “Keep telling yourself that when she learns to say N-O and we’re finding peas all over this kitchen.”

“What is this blasphemy?” Dallas wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist. “Name a vegetable. Any vegetable. If I can’t make it taste so freaking amazing that the first ten people we stop outside The Spoke don’t ask for seconds—”

Lacey tapped her lip. “We rename the cat, said cat that you brainwashed into an identity crisis in the first place using barbecued chicken from The Spoke and a ukulele song you convinced Hayden to write for her?”

“Here we go again,” Topher muttered under his breath.