Sliding his arms around me, he bent down. The feel of his soft lips against my forehead made me feel like an even bigger ass.

  “You could never be helpless, elskan mín. But you have no need to be sorry. I understand.”

  Of course he did. “Will you quit being the bigger person? You’re making it hard to stay irritated, and I want to stay irritated.”

  The deep belly laugh that came from him made me smile. In a show of compromise, I looped my arm through his and let him walk me to the coffee shop. “I know, I know. I’m exhibiting control issues and am using avoidance techniques. You can say it,” I admitted with a roll of my eyes.

  “That is not at all what I was thinking,” he said like the perfect saint he nearly was—if I put any stock in saints, which I really didn’t. The whole idea reeked of patriarchy influence. Yeah, I was totally deflecting.

  “What were you thinking?” I asked.

  “You are the seeker. I am most certainly not the bigger person.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but we’d reached the door. As Ty opened it for me, my anxiety ratcheted right back up past ten on the dial. A questioning cronk called down from where Gripp had perched on the store’s sign.

  “You stay out here. I’ll be fine,” I reassured him.

  Though he fluffed up his chest feathers, he folded in his wings—telling me he’d stay and watch our backs. I couldn’t say how I knew. I just did. Something in his mannerisms told me, in his amber eyes, or maybe it was something in the rope of energy that wove between us.

  Not a soul occupied the shop besides a lone barista behind the counter cleaning an espresso machine. The delicious, almost nutty scent of fine coffee seeped into me. I opened my mouth and took a deep breath to fully bask in the experience. The barista was a college-aged young man with dark brown hair and smiling eyes the hue of chestnuts. The name badge on his royal blue polo shirt read “Brian.”

  A huge smile brightened his already cheery demeanor as his gaze settled on us. “Ty! To what do we owe this rare pleasure?” he asked.

  His voice was as genuinely sweet as the cherry pie my mother used to make during holidays back before my dad died and any semblance of domestic bliss we’d enjoyed burned to the ground. Everything about the man put me at ease. I found myself smiling despite the anxiety thrumming through me.

  Gaze scanning the shop, Ty smiled. “Overdue for a visit,” he said.

  The cause of his caution was likely the source of the rustling I heard coming from the back room. Having an audience of any kind could be bad since we had no idea who all might be involved.

  “Well, I’m glad you came in. What can I get you?” he asked.

  Ty ordered the house blend.

  “And for you, darling?” Brian asked.

  A quick look at the menu gave me the lowdown of the place, and I liked what I saw. “I’ll have a double grande pumpkin mocha with cashew milk.”

  One dark brow rose in that elusive expression I just could not master. Could all werewolves pull that off except for me? “Pumpkin mocha? Hmm, why have I never thought of that? All right, darling. You want half pumps of chocolate and pumpkin?”

  I lifted my brows right back at him—both of them, of course, because I wasn’t that supernatural. “Nope. Hit me with full pumps.”

  That brilliant grin lip up his face again. “I admire your dedication. Full pumps it is!” He spun away and began grabbing ingredients.

  Prickling along my right side alerted me to Ty’s intent stare. “What?” I asked.

  “I had no idea you had such a sugar addiction.”

  The shock in his voice made me worry for a split second. “Is that a problem?”

  His serious expression cracked, giving me a glimpse of the mirth beneath. “Not one bit.”

  “Aren’t you two just too sweet for good teeth?” Brian asked with a knowing grin. He didn’t wait for a response. “You going to sit a spell, or would you like that to go?” he asked over the noise of the espresso machine.

  Not quite knowing what Ty had in mind, I let him take the lead. “To go, please. Do you mind if we check out the new inventory of cups from the back first?”

  Something sparkled in Brian’s eyes, a knowing, if I had to guess. “Of course. Come on back. I’ll show you where they’re at, and we’ll get you hooked up,” he said. He swung the wooden doors at the end of the counter open for us in invitation.

  After a glance at the glass door that revealed an empty parking lot with an oak tree with green leaves—amidst which Gripp perched—I followed Brian and Ty. Despite no one else being around, I felt an intense need to be sneaky. Being attacked multiple times in the past two weeks would do that to a girl. Brian led us into a back storeroom lined with shelves containing coffee and coffee paraphernalia of all kinds. Down an aisle and along a back wall, we came to shelves lined with ceramic and insulated metal coffee cups of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Upon each in some fashion was the Crescent Coffee logo of a full moon flanked by a crescent moon to either side with a steaming mug of coffee in the full moon.

  Knowing we weren’t really here for the cups or the coffee, I gave Ty a pointed look. His mouth opened, but before he could speak, Brian went to a knee—A freaking knee!—right before me, tilted his head to the side, and offered me his neck.

  “Seeker, it is my pleasure and honor to meet you in person. My fangs and claws are yours. You have only to ask and if it is in my power, I will do anything for you,” Brian said.

  And this was precisely one of the reasons I hated coming to Hemlock Hollow.

  I grabbed his hand and gave it a tug, trying to pull him to his feet. He wouldn’t budge. “Brian, please. I’m no saint or Gods-touched hero. I’m just another werewolf like you. You do not need to debase yourself before me,” I insisted.

  Instead of giving in to my pulling and rising, he rubbed his head against the back of my hand. Okay, that’s weird.

  “Please, get up,” I said more firmly.

  He rose abruptly. Using the hand I still had a hold of, I drew him close. I leaned over and whispered in his ear, quiet enough even an alpha in the next room would have trouble hearing. “We are looking for your uncle.”

  Eyes going wide, he dropped his head. “I wish I could help, but he’s gone dark.”

  “Gone dark?” I asked.

  A moment before it crossed into being excessively awkward, he let my hand go. “No tech. He does it now and then when he doesn’t want anyone to be able to track him.”

  Brows raised, I gave Ty a look. He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t your uncle want people to track him? Like…on a regular enough basis that this is a thing?” I asked.

  “He deals with a lot of top secret level government projects. Sometimes that means he has to work in secret, so he goes dark.”

  “Government? Like U.S. government?”

  The hard look he gave Ty clearly said “Have you told her nothing?” Inside I warred against wanting to defend Ty and being frustrated with him for not telling me more. The problem was, this was a huge, wide world I’d only recently been exposed to, and there was a shit ton to learn. Having been raised a werewolf, there was simply a lot he forgot I didn’t know.

  After an impatient gesture from me, Brian went on. “Yes and no. Werewolf government, really. But a lot of our people are deeply ingrained in the world governments, so…” He gave a palms up, whole body kind of gesticulation.

  “Do you know who he’s been doing work for recently?” Ty piped in.

  Straightening up, Brian looked me square in the eyes. “You.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  No amount of grilling elicited any further information from Brian because he truly didn’t know any more beyond that. Yet another dead end. It frustrated me to Helheimr and back. I was spending a lot of metaphorical time in that world.

  I couldn’t stand the idea of going back to the hospital and waiting for my test results. Every atom in my body vibrated, not with the need to shift so much as with the need to do something. Again. I was beginning to feel like a caffeine addict.

  The second we stepped outside an ear piercing cronk made me jump. An enormous bird with feathers that reflected the sun like obsidian stood on the roof of my Jeep—Gripp. The bob, bob, bob of his head communicated his impatience loud and clear. My gaze zeroed in on his huge talons.

  “If you scratch my Jeep…” I warned as I stalked in his direction.

  “Cronk!” he screamed, his large, hooked beak opening wide enough for me to see the black cavern of his maw.

  I pointed a finger at him as we approached. “I’m not joking!”

  Laughter popped from Ty in a surprised sound that sent Gripp skyward in a flutter of enormous wings. He settled on the spare tire mounted on the tailgate. Thankfully the rubber allowed him to get a good hold so he didn’t bobble and potentially scratch my paint.

  “What is so funny?” I demanded of Ty.

  “Only you would admonish a raven. Well, you and probably Ayra.”

  Once we got in the Jeep, let Gripp in the back, and I buckled in, I told Ty, “Speaking of which, I’d like to go see Ayra and Vidar. Last we chatted, she was in town.”

  Ty’s shoulders dropped an inch and he smiled. “That is a great idea.”

  Though I wanted to fidget, bounce my leg, tap my claws on the red metal coffee cup I’d picked out, anything, instead I placed my hands in my lap and tried to be all Zen-like. The anxiety thrumming through my body, increasing my blood pressure, and filling my head with horrible thoughts was all from the tension. I knew that. And I knew I had to get my shit under control or I’d be no help to my mother or the missing women. But waiting was not my strong suit.

  The white-knuckled way Ty gripped the steering wheel made it obvious I wasn’t the only one fighting tension. But he was likely picking up on what I was putting down as well, so all in all, it was kind of my fault. I drew in and blew out a few deep, steadying breaths until the wolf beneath my skin stopped vibrating in a desire to come out and fight the unseen threat.

  “Sorry, I’m just… This is hard,” I said.

  “Ástin min, you have nothing to apologize for.”

  My blood warmed at the nickname. That heat shot straight down between my legs, effectively obliterating my stress. Energy poured from me, reaching out for him. Instead of stopping it like I always did out of fear of losing control, I let it go. The scents of vanilla and jasmine filled the Jeep—my own particular scent, according to Ty. Pressure built, but not in an uncomfortable way, more like in a flow that moved from me to Ty. If there weren’t lives on the line, I would have made him pull the Jeep over right then and there. But trading out-of-control stress for out-of-control lust wouldn’t help anyone.

  “Do you really think it’s possible Ayra or Vidar might have an idea of where Einstein has gone?” I asked, leaving out the “and taken my mother” bit. My gut told me it might be the other way around, that she was the one calling the shots between the two of them. But I wasn’t ready to think about what that meant—not until I found her and could confront her with it.

  Ty breathed out a long sigh. “I am zero for one right now, so I cannot say with any certainty. But I hope so.” He took hold of my hand, and I wove my fingers in with his. “You cannot blame yourself for her disappearance,” he said.

  “Yeah, I can,” I argued. I did not want to get into this again. “I’m getting this Icelandic pronunciation thing down. Your last name is Viðarsson, which means your dad’s name is Viðar, the Icelandic version of Vidar. Is it just a weird coincidence that your dad and best friend share the same name?” I steered the conversation into a sharp one-eighty.

  The tightness to Ty’s lips told me he was privy to my tactic, but he answered anyway like a good wolf. “No. My father and Vidar’s father were best friends who grew up together, so he named his son after my father.”

  That made me smile. “That’s cool that both you and V are best friends and so are your dads.”

  He dipped his head and some of the tightness in me melted away. “It was fated, or so our fathers say.”

  Ty turned from the one-lane paved country road onto a gravel drive lined with a mixture of aspen, oak, and evergreen trees. Green, red, and the occasional yellow leaves decorated the trees in the outfits of spring. The driveway meandered as if its creator had partaken of one too many spirits. Knowing this area, it was more likely due to how deep we were in the granite mountains, but I liked my theory better. It made me feel less isolated.

  Another turn and a gorgeous little two-story cabin appeared flanked by evergreens. Massive windows on both floors looked out at a deep canyon over which a foot bridge stretched, sparkling in the sun like crystal. In front of the cabin sat double-tiered flower beds filled with red, white, and orange tulips along with bright yellow daffodils.

  Just the sight of the place calmed my nerves. Ayra’s potent energy hovered around the property like a soothing fog. It mingled with a warmer, lighter energy I couldn’t feel nearly as strongly, but knew from being around him that it belonged to Vidar. The two of them were quickly becoming as familiar to me as Ty.

  She was here. I felt it in my bones. Before I could get out of the Jeep, the front door to the cabin opened and Ayra came striding out. In a pair of camo BDUs and a gray half shirt that showed off her absolutely ripped stomach, she looked every bit the badass she was. Long hair floated out behind her in golden waves so pale they were practically white, revealing a fierce expression on her deceptively pretty face.

  I jumped out, Gripp smacking me in the back of the head with a wing in his rush to follow and subsequently landing on my shoulder.

  Baring fangs, she looked me up and down as she walked around me. “You aren’t wounded?” The calm, calculated tone could make an iceberg chilly.

  Gripp chattered at her in a cacophony of raven sounds as if she were talking to him. His tone sounded calm but intense, as if he were telling her what went down. Giving him side-eye, I waited for him to finish.

  “What he said.” Ayra gave me one of her rare smiles. I went on. “No, I’m not hurt, though we don’t know what was in the cocktail they used to knock me out with yet.”

  Her growl made bumps rise along my arms. “I just got off a video conference with the Caninus Council. The rӓvar say they are aggressively investigating their packs and will show no mercy in hunting down those responsible. The other council heads are sending out enforcers to see that they do so.”

  “Do you believe them?” Ty asked.

  Ayra gave a one shoulder shrug. “I believe they are aware it would be political suicide if they don’t do everything in their power to resolve this. And I made them aware it would be literal suicide if I found out they did anything less than that.”

  Knowing it was no idle threat from her, I placed a hand on her shoulder and tried to send her soothing energy. She was literally hot to the touch. “I’m fine, really,” I assured her.

  Steely blue eyes narrowed on me. “For now. But this is the second attack. We can’t allow there to be another.” The heat rolling off her made me want to remove my hand, but I didn’t.

  Ty moved a step closer. “They were not trying to kill her,” he pointed out.

  That cold gaze traveled to Ty. “Abduct her, maybe?” she suggested.

  “That is my suspicion.”

  Ayra made a grunting sound of agreement before looking back to me. “This shit has to stop.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  After a long perusal at the surrounding forest, she beckoned with a thrust of her head and started back for the cabin. “Then it’s agreed.”

  Ty gave me a wide-eyed look of concern. “What, exactly, are we agreeing on?” he asked.

  Opening the door, Ayra called over her shoulder, “We’re going fox hunting.”

  At the risk of incurring the wrath of the reaper of all shifterkind, I said, “We can’t.” But I wasn’t a complete idiot, so I followed her into the cabin.

  For a moment the interior of the cabin demanded my attention. A yawning great room opened to a nice kitchen with a bar, and a loft overlooked it all. Logs made up everything from the staircase to the ceiling in a very traditional manner that fit Ayra and Vidar surprisingly well. The scents of wood and wood conditioner filled the place, giving it a warm, pleasant vibe.

  “We most definitely can,” Ayra insisted. “I have an arsenal. We can arm you to the claws.”

  It took a few seconds to remember what we’d been talking about. “Oh no, that isn’t why.”

  Stopping before the hallway that ran alongside the kitchen, she raised one pale brow at me in that clever expression everyone seemed to be able to manage but me.

  “Aside from the missing coyote shifters I told you about, now I’m also looking for my mother. She’s gone missing too. The Interspecies Intelligence Agency is interested for some reason, and it seems she is with Einstein.”

  Ayra’s eyes shot open so wide one would have thought I’d just dropped a Jägerbomb on her. My own eyes widened. Before this moment I wouldn’t have believed it possible that she could be shocked. Instead of continuing into the hall, she veered behind the bar in the kitchen.

  “This is going to take some coffee,” she declared.

  Having just come out of a drugged sleep, I wasn’t about to pass up another cup. The pressure of energy approaching made me look to the hallway. From the shadows, Vidar emerged as if made of them. With his lovely dark skin and close-cropped black hair, he very well could have been. But his bright smile and sunny personality that absolutely beamed from him made him seem more like a creature of the light. A blue tank top depicting a flying man in an iron suit hugged his ridiculously ripped chest and loose gray cargo shorts slung low on his hips.

  From their outfits I would have guessed we interrupted their workout instead of a meeting with the Caninus Council. But then, they weren’t exactly a pair for pomp and circumstance, so to speak. It was part of what I loved about them.

  Vidar came straight to me and wrapped me in a hug that knocked the breath right from my lungs. After a moment of crushing me to him, he held me out at arm’s length and looked me over. “You don’t look injured, but injuries can be hidden, often are. Are you all right?” he asked in a rush of words that took me a moment to catch up with.