Page 36 of The Reluctant Alpha

After she promised, I hung up and turned to Bayer, whose knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

"My brother Logan is missing," I said, though I knew both he and Kaylan had heard every word. "And Shane isn't answering his phone."

"When was the last time anyone saw Logan?" Bayer asked, his voice carefully controlled as he pulled onto the main road.

"Yesterday, I guess. He has an evening lab that runs until nine, then he usually goes straight home." I ran a hand through my hair. "This isn't like him, Bayer. He never misses lab. Ever. He's the responsible one."

Kaylan leaned forward from the backseat. "Could he be at a friend's place? Or with a girlfriend or boyfriend?"

"No, his roommate would know. They're both science nerds; they tell each other everything." My leg was bouncing uncontrollably as we sped toward my mom's house. "I should have checked on him. I've been so wrapped up in...everything."

Bayer's hand found mine, squeezing gently. "This isn't your fault."

I wanted to believe him, but all I could think about was the revenant, the dead girls, the slaughtered family. What if Logan had somehow crossed paths with the monster? What if while I was lying safe in Bayer's arms last night, my brother had been slaughtered?

Chapter twelve

Bayer

"We're here," I said.

Danny's mom's house looked the same as always—a modest two-story with peeling paint and a slightly overgrown lawn—but something felt off. I tensed immediately, trying to place what I could scent. My bear was uneasy, muscles tensing as I scanned the area. There was a scent—faint but unmistakable—of something wrong, but nothing I could identify.

"What is it?" Danny asked, noticing my hesitation.

"I'm not sure," I admitted quietly, exchanging a glance with Kaylan who nodded slightly, confirming he smelled it too. "Stay behind me."

Danny's mother must have been watching for us because the front door opened before we even reached the porch. She was a small woman with Danny's eyes and worry etched into the lines of her face, and I remembered her from when we’d done a conversion for her two years ago.

"Danny!" She pulled him into a tight hug, then looked questioningly at me and Kaylan.

"Mom, you know Bayer, and this is Kaylan," Danny said quickly. "Emery’s friends. Is there any news?"

She shook her head, ushering us inside. The house smelled of coffee and anxiety. "Nothing from Logan, but Shane just called. He's fine—hungover at a friend's place." She led us to a small kitchen where a police officer sat at the table, notebook open.

"Officer Martinez," she introduced him. "He came by even though it hasn't been twenty-four hours."

The officer nodded at us, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary. I couldn't blame him—I was easily twice his size.

"You're Danny?" he asked, and when Danny nodded, he continued, "When was the last time you spoke with your brother?"

"Three days ago, maybe? We texted about Mom's birthday next month." Danny sank into a chair, looking pale. "This isn't like him, Officer. Logan's the responsible one."

I remained standing, positioning myself near the window where I could keep watch outside while still listening. The wrongness I'd sensed earlier hadn't faded, but I couldn't pinpoint its source. I didn't want to jump to conclusions either.

"His roommate says Logan mentioned meeting someone after his lab yesterday," Officer Martinez said, consulting his notes. "But he didn't say who."

"Meeting someone?" Danny's mother frowned. "Logan doesn't 'meet people.' He barely looks up from his textbooks."

"Could be a study group," Danny suggested, though he sounded unconvinced.

I was about to suggest we check Logan's usual haunts when Danny's phone rang. He grabbed it so quickly he nearly dropped it.

"Logan?" His face transformed with relief. "Where the hell are you? We've been worried sick!"

I could hear the tinny sound of Logan's voice through the phone, rapid and apologetic, explaining. Danny's shoulders slumped with relief.

"You're where?" he asked incredulously. "Since when do you—" He paused, listening. "Okay, okay. Just...call Mom next time, alright? There's a cop in our kitchen.”