Hunted (Pack of Dawn and Destiny, #1)(78)

Scarlett and Radcliff’s mom wasn’t among them, so I wasn’t thrilled that Amos was still running amok, but it was at least a little understandable.

The Dominant’s team of investigators had arrived, so the Fletchings spent a day or two turning over all the information they had and walking them through what they’d learned about wolfsbane.

But enough time has passed by now; they should be leaving Timber Ridge.

I skidded my way down the hill—Northern Wisconsin had lots of squat but steep hills that made hiking extra exciting for injuries—and tripped my way up to the cars.

I peered inside, but I couldn’t see through anything but the windshield—all the other windows were tinted.

Is that…cases of ammo?

“What are they doing cruising around with cases of bullets?” I leaned against the car to see if the alarm would go off. When it didn’t, I half climbed onto the front so I could get a better look, cupping my hands around my eyes.

It was in the back seat, so I couldn’t get much of a look, but I saw boxes of ammo, and several gun cases…which were unzipped and empty.

They’ve got weapons, and the car is parked…while half of the Pack is out on a run.

I pushed off the car and hurtled to the trees, yanking my phone from my pants pocket. As soon as I hit the trees I dove low, army crawling through underbrush and trying to disturb as little vegetation as possible, in case they were in the area.

First, I need to call Hector. There’s a possibility I’m blowing this all out of proportion, but given all of Amos’s threats the other day…

I pressed my lips together as I tapped my phone—my unfortunately sweaty fingers smearing across it without getting traction.

I’ll take the whole Pack laughing at my paranoia and looking like an idiot over this being real. In fact, please, please let this all just be insane suspicion.

I finally got my phone to make the call when I heard a gunshot, and felt the ripple of hunter magic.

It was trap magic—but a big trap. It had to have several hunters anchoring it together.

I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry as I tried to expand my senses, feeling for the Pack.

I couldn’t sense anything out that far—I could only feel the magic because it plucked at my hunter instinct for family.

I was pretty sure I could feel a second version of the spell, but it was so faint and far off I wasn’t sure.

I held my phone to my ear—dimly aware that it was endlessly ringing—as I boosted myself to my feet.

I jogged—trying to hit a pace that was halfway between a loud sprint that would be impossible to miss and a walk that would be quiet but horrifically slow.

When I got Hector’s voicemail I hung up and tried calling again.

The rest of the Pack is probably frantically calling him, just like I am. That’s why he hasn’t picked up.

My spit had a metallic flavor to it, and I could feel my heart galloping in my chest as I closed in on the area where the spell flickered with power—it was still going strong.

My phone was still ringing when I heard shouts.

I reluctantly hung up and stopped running long enough to type out a quick text to Hector, then silenced my phone and put it back in my pocket.

Ready for stealth, I started slinking through the woods, watching for signs of other hunters. I had a huge advantage over them—I knew the surrounding woods like the back of my hand. Even if I couldn’t smell them like a wolf, I could see signs of their presence a heck of a lot easier than they’d ever be able to see me.

There were a few boot prints in the soft dirt that were fresh, so I carefully moved away from those as I pushed closer to the spell. Just before I reached the meadow that engulfed the Pack lodge, I dropped to the ground, slinking behind thick bushes so I had cover.

Once I felt I was hidden well enough, I pushed back a bush branch and had to bite down on a scream.

The other half of the Pack that hadn’t yet joined the wolves I’d been training with—about twenty of them—were surrounded by a golden colored trap spell. As it was shaped like a dome, it completely sealed them, but instead of the traditional fae shield or a dragon shifter seal, the surface was made of a series of crosshatches and had a net-like surface with holes.

It would dissipate under wizard or fae magic, but would stay strong against physical weapons and force. In other words, it was perfectly suited to trap werewolves or shifters.

Nine hunters were stationed in the area. Nine.

Those are odds I can’t hope to beat.

All of them were carrying either a gun or an unsheathed dagger. Four of them seemed to be responsible for the trap, now that it was up and activated. They were spaced out around the trap, focused on the silver daggers slammed into the ground that were anchoring the spell.

Those will have to be taken out to destroy the trap. But I can’t go against nine hunters.

Amos was pacing in the middle of the group, talking on his phone with a despicable smile of satisfaction.

Scarlett and Radcliff were watching him with frowns, but I didn’t recognize any of the other hunters present.

I could see Wyatt and Aeric through the trap’s net-like surface. Aeric had transformed into a wolf, but Wyatt was still a human. His clothes were ripped and dirtied, and one of the lenses of his glasses was broken, but he looked uninjured. About a dozen of the captive werewolves had switched to their wolf form—they had the time, trapped as they were.