Jack wouldn’t have stolen that memory.

  Still, Honor didn’t browbeat me. Instead, she acted the way her name suggested she would. “I have to bring Justice back to his mate,” she said, words tight yet understandable. “I’ll call later to plan next steps.”

  Every last bubble was swept away when she failed to meet my gaze after that. Her van nearly slid into the ditch while pulling out onto the icy road, and I held my breath for more reason than treacherous driving conditions.

  Then I stared out across the countryside my mate had disappeared into, my shoulders slumping and what felt like a rock dragging down my gut. I was the one who’d messed up, not the girl huddled in on herself beside me. It would take a team to save Jack and Merry and Justice and I’d splintered that team as easily as if it was a dry stick snapped across my knee.

  “No more memories,” I murmured under my breath. No matter the consequences, I wouldn’t steal again.

  “What’d you say?” Lynette asked. Just like Honor, she hadn’t looked at me straight on in quite a while. Not since I’d growled in the middle of her story, I now realized.

  So I’d broken that too. Maybe this one thing, though, I could fix.

  “I messed up so much worse than you messed up,” I told the teenager while donning emergency sweats werewolves seemed to keep in all their vehicles. “If Jack was here, he’d say something witty, but I’m just saying—this isn’t your fault.”

  “Jack wouldn’t say something witty right now,” Lynette told the ground between us.

  “No?”

  She shook her head and finally her eyes came up to meet mine. “He’d hug us,” she countered succinctly.

  I could almost feel Jack’s arms around me, the warmth and implied absolution thawing the chill inside me just a little. Lynette was right. Sometimes words weren’t what was needed.

  Still, I offered words anyway. “Good idea. Since Jack’s not here, maybe we’d better hug each other?”

  I expected Lynette to reject my offer. After all, skin-on-skin contact was how I stole memories. She’d heard my conversation with Honor.

  And yet, the teenager was the one who took the step toward me. She was the one whose body shook just a little as I pulled it tight up against my body.

  Then we got in the car and I drove Lynette home.

  I found my center somewhere between that icy roadside and the house where Tru, Drake, Lynette, and Rosa lived. I held onto the warmth of Lynette’s hug and focused on anything and everything other than the fact Jack was gone.

  “Do you want me to explain what happened?” I asked Lynette as we got out of the car in a neighborhood turned quieter than usual by the ice storm. I’d had to drive at a snail’s pace given road conditions, so it was fully daylight now. Which meant everyone inside Rosa’s house would be awake and ready to pounce on Lynette’s lies about winter break even before they learned the larger issues of Ambrose having been freed and two pelts having been stolen. The upcoming confrontation had to weigh heavily on the teenager’s mind.

  Still, Lynette straightened her spine and shook her head. “No. It’s my deal. I’ll explain it.”

  She didn’t have a chance to. The front door flung itself open before we’d made it halfway up the walk and Tru came running down from the porch barefoot. “You’re safe!” she emoted, pulling Lynette into a hug so tight I could hear the teenager squeak.

  Then Drake and Rosa were on the porch behind her. “Don’t go down,” my mate’s brother rasped to the older woman. “I’ll bring them up.”

  He did, words flowing out from Lynette and Tru at the exact same time while Drake nudged them up icy steps and I trailed along in their wake.

  “You weren’t answering your phone,” Tru was saying, “so I called Erik’s family to see if they’d lost power from the ice storm. They had no idea you were supposed to be there. The roads are terrible, so I got scared...”

  “I’m so sorry,” Lynette said, talking and listening simultaneously. “I guessed where Jack might be and I went there without telling you and I made everything so much worse. You can have my car keys. And my phone. And my computer. I’m grounded for the next decade...”

  We were inside now, heat encompassing us. I closed the door and leaned against it, watching as this family Jack had imagined being part of healed each other with mundanities like warm quilts and hot tea and a breakfast Drake immediately started cooking at one end of the combined kitchen and living room. While Rosa and Tru waited for food, they sandwiched Lynette between them on the saggy couch, Tru’s kitten leaping up to demand attention from all three at once. My frozen fingers clenched as I imagined running them through soft, warm kitten fur. But I didn’t move from my spot.

  Then Drake turned away from the eggs he was scrambling to raise one eyebrow. “Can you butter toast?” he rasped.

  There were far more important issues in play than toast, but I found myself crossing the open living space to join him. Softened butter waited on the countertop and bread popped up out of the toaster, the scents reminding me that my body was famished after a night without food or sleep.

  I didn’t eat though. Instead, I buttered and talked, having learned my lesson about partnership from Honor. “Ambrose got away,” I told Drake, keeping my voice low so it wouldn’t impinge upon the women on the other side of the room. Lynette was giggling now and I expected the sound of her mirth to grate on me. Instead, it loosened something deep inside my chest. The teenager was going to be alright. Jack would be pleased.

  “Figured,” Drake answered, nudging me aside so he could open the oven and slide in a cookie sheet loaded down with bacon. “Is Jack...?” If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought the strong, hard shifter beside me had choked on his question.

  “Jack’s still in there.” Well, he had been when I last saw his dimple a week ago. But there was no reason to think anything had changed between then and now.

  And the scariest werewolf in North America emitted a sound awfully similar to a sob. Then he cleared his throat. “Thank you.” His hand landed ever so briefly on my shoulder, its heavy warmth more steadying that food would have been.

  Still, I forced myself to stick to the truth. “Don’t thank me yet. I had things under control, then I let it all collapse.”

  I was halfway through an explanation of how badly I’d dropped the ball when my phone chimed a video-chat request.

  Chapter 24

  Honor skipped right past the pleasantries. Or maybe she had none to offer where I was concerned. Either way, her words were sharp and staccato as she asked, “Is Jack’s brother there? I need to speak with the Executioner.”

  Executioner. I shivered even as I handed the phone over to the man beside me. I didn’t need the reminder that the single source of warmth I’d found on this frigid morning was someone whose job made my past look like a birthday party with pony rides.

  “You’re not calling to speak to Jack’s brother, who owes you a life debt?” Drake rasped, sounding very much like his job title suggested.

  “No,” Honor answered, voice crisp. “This is an official request. My mate just happened to be passing through O’Connell territory this morning when his bladder required him to make a pit stop. He was captured and now I’m asking for your help with hostage negotiations.”

  For a split second, hurt pinged through me. I hadn’t been the only one withholding important information. Because if Honor’s mate had ended up in O’Connell territory so soon after we’d driven away from our failed mission, he must have been nearby the entire time. Must have purposefully put himself in the path of an O’Connell patrol.

  But why? So Honor could make this call?

  I’d seen the Executioner in Tru’s stolen memories dozens of times, so I knew hostage negotiations were a common bit of busywork on his professional agenda. Territories were large, highways bisected them, and setting foot on enemy territory often proved inevitable. Trespassing nearly always ended in an unharmed hostage returned to his pack in exchange for some minor concession, as long as the Executioner was involved to enforce fairness that is.

  No wonder Drake’s answer, although still raspy, bordered on bored. “Do you have a concession you’re prepared to give up?”

  Honor’s voice sounded nearly as emotionless when she laid out an escalating series of unresolved issues she was willing to resolve in exchange for the return of her mate. It was only at the end that her words turned fierce again.

  “There’s also the issue of a wolf pelt Luke had in his possession,” Honor added, and I had a feeling if we’d been speaking in person rather than over the phone I would have smelled a lie on the air. “If the pelt has been removed, I require a complete search of the premises in an effort to return it. In particular, you may want to interview someone whose signature scent is black pepper and tangerine.”

  Ah. And now her purpose became crystal clear. This was another way in. Another way to seek Merry’s pelt, although it did nothing to find Justice’s.

  The workaround was clever, one I should have thought of. But I’d been too busy holding grudges against teenagers and wallowing in hurt feelings. For one split second, I considered tossing my pelt around my shoulders so I could go between and clear my mind of human confusion.

  Before I could do so, however, Drake was agreeing to intervene in the hostage case. Then he turned to face me and the rest of the house’s inhabitants, all of whom had gathered around while he was talking. “None of you,” he rasped out, “will leave this house until I return.”

  It wasn’t an alpha command, but Drake acting as Executioner was one of the scariest sights I’d ever encountered. So I wasn’t prepared for Lynette to make the sound of a game-show buzzer while Tru back-talked. “Perhaps you should rephrase that in the form of a question?”

  “Apologies,” Drake corrected himself as easily as if his alpha musk wasn’t pushing all oxygen out of the room. “Would you please stay here and come up with a plan to save my brother while I hunt for a little girl’s pelt?”

  “Better,” Tru answered. She had to stand on tiptoe to kiss him, the dominance that was making it hard for me to breathe clearly having no effect on her. Or maybe she considered it an aphrodisiac. Whatever the reason, she didn’t complain when Drake passed the phone back to me and walked out the door a moment before the smoke alarm went off to warn us unattended bacon had started to burn.

  A bustle of kitchen work ensued after that, with Rosa, Lynette, and Tru dancing around each other to finish what Drake had started. Soon, they’d settled around the table and Tru was filling a plate to overflowing with breakfast goodness before passing it to Lynette. “Eat,” she demanded, “or I’ll make airplane noises.”

  “Seriously? As if I’m two?” But when both Tru and Rosa glared at her, the teenager picked up a strip of bacon and stuffed the whole thing into her mouth. “There, happy?” she said, speaking with her mouth full.

  The sensation of being outside looking in was so strong I almost expected to find a pane of glass between myself and the others. Surely there would be ice beneath my feet if I peered down. Perhaps I’d never walked up the steps and through the front door in the first place.

  I only remembered that Honor’s video chat was still active on the phone clutched in my hand when she said, “That looks good.”

  Three sets of eyes turned in my direction. They’d clearly forgotten I was present. Had returned to that united front of womanhood that had settled onto the couch together while Drake started breakfast.

  Spotlit by their attention, my feet begged for permission to carry me toward the door. But I wasn’t such a wimp to be scared away by the specter of family. Forcing my muscles to obey, I propped my phone up against a salt shaker where everyone could see Honor and I sank into a seat.

  Then I focused on what Jack would have wanted and I opened my mouth. “About Ambrose...I think I can find him.” I hadn’t gotten to this point while talking to Drake, having started with the facts then been interrupted by Honor’s call. “The mate bond is pulling me north.”

  Tru’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t trust me, which made perfect sense given our shared history. Still, she stuck to the topic I’d broached. “He has to feel it too if you do. Which would mean he expects you to come after him.”

  I nodded, having come to the same conclusion. “I kept him caged for weeks, so he might want payback. Or maybe this is a ploy to steal my pelt. Whatever the reason, I’m willing to risk it.”

  After that, I repeated the same information I’d already told Drake. My assessment that Ambrose couldn’t have been the original internet predator, not when he’d been stuck in a cell at the time Merry’s pelt went missing. But it also seemed unlikely that two pelts stolen one after the other were unrelated incidents. Ambrose was clearly in possession of the second pelt.

  Lynette, who’d been eating steadily this entire time, finally rejoined the conversation. “Jack’s pelt was weird,” she observed.

  “Weird how?” Tru prodded.

  Lynette sounded more like her usual loquacious self as she answered. “I’d never handled one before, so maybe this is normal? But my fingers got really cold when I touched it. I didn’t see anything the way I do when I read surfaces. But it kinda felt like my whole hand went through the pelt to somewhere else.”

  My heart rate spiked and my breath caught. I’d dismissed Lynette as a thoughtless child, but I’d been wrong. She was the one who’d helped Tru back into our world in that coffee shop, pushing her hand into a swirling pool of light that I’d guessed was related to the spirit realm. Would that same ability allow us to neutralize Ambrose and regain my mate?

  It was time to find out. So even though what I was about to do felt far too intimate, I reached beneath my shirt and unwound my own pelt from around my torso before passing it over to the teenager. “What happens when you touch this one?”

  Her fingers running through the fur felt nothing like Ambrose’s had, nothing like Jack’s touch either. Instead, there was simple warmth on my end, as if I was the kitten being absently patted while it tried to sneak a slice of singed bacon.

  The warmth I felt didn’t carry over to Lynette. “Yep, definitely cold,” she complained, blowing on her fingers.

  I tried to keep my voice steady, but excitement raised the pitch despite myself. “I’m going to shift. Try that again but clench your fist when I’m halfway between this time.”

  Despite the ease with which the words had left my lips, my body didn’t want to obey me. If I was right, I was about to give the same teenager who’d let Ambrose escape access to my spirit self, my true being. I was about to trap myself, albeit momentarily, the same way I’d been trapped for over a century inside my sword.

  And if that was the way to save Jack? Hesitation slipped away along with the clothes I stepped out of. Swiping the pelt off Lynette’s lap, I stayed within easy reach while swirling it around my shoulders.

  The ice between suffused my entire being. I gasped, but no air entered my lungs because I had no lungs. Something clenched around me, preventing me from becoming human or wolf or anything. I was trapped…

  Then warm arms enfolded me. I was no longer in the spirit realm. Was shivering as Tru observed, “You forgot to tell her to let go again.”

  Apparently I hadn’t made it to four legs, because it was frozen human lips that answered her. “Good thing you’re good at puzzles,” I gasped out.

  Chapter 25

  I laid out the plan while trying to warm myself by cupping a mug of tea between frozen fingers. My throat dried as I spoke, but I couldn’t quite make myself take a sip to soothe the scratch.

  Because the solution was going to be thoroughly unpleasant. It had to be.

  “Ambrose sometimes lets Jack out when he’s sleeping, but we can’t wait for that,” I told my audience. “The only times Jack has managed to take over without Ambrose’s permission is when I’m in clear and present danger. But I have to really believe it. Ambrose can see my thoughts down the mate bond if he cares to look.”

  “I don’t get it,” Lynette interjected. She’d dug a pair of gloves out of her pocket, which seemed to have dealt with her own cold fingers. “Why can’t I just grab Ambrose when Jack isn’t in control?”

  It was a good question, and I let go of the last of my annoyance as I answered. “Jack will shift when we ask him to,” I explained. “And Jack can evade your fingers if he’s in control so you don’t get the wrong spirit.”

  I was semi-sure I could have kept Lynette from grabbing me if I’d wanted to. Maybe.

  “You’re not certain.” That was Tru, narrowing her eyes as she looked me over.

  “I’m not certain,” I agreed. “But it’s the best chance we’ve got.”

  I told them the rest after that. My idea that Ambrose could be stuffed into my sword and trapped the same way I’d been stuck there for decades. That destroying the sword should, well might, neutralize Ambrose once and for all.

  What losing my lodestone would do to me was uncertain, especially now that the hunger to steal memories was once again nibbling at the back of my mind. But that was a problem for myself and for later, while this was a solution for Jack here and now. I was willing to take the risk.

  “Ambrose will die?” Honor asked through the cell phone. I couldn’t tell if she was pleased by the idea or disturbed by it.

  “Spirits don’t really die,” I answered. “We need energy to exist though. By binding Ambrose to the sword then destroying the thing he’s bound to, we disintegrate all his energy. It could take centuries for him to draw in enough random sparks to coalesce again. In the meantime, there’s a good chance he’ll forget he exists.”

  It wasn’t a hypothetical scenario. I’d almost forgotten who I was after the sword I inhabited was tossed into the back of an unused closet for so many decades. I shivered again, remembering the cold that had seeped into me, how my name had faded along with large parts of my memory. Returning to that cold would be hard if I was still bound to the sword the way I thought I was. But, unlike Ambrose, I had experience with nothingness. I’d come through it before and would likely survive it again.