He covered his ears unable to bare the sound. What was wrong with his wolf? The yowl came louder, his wolf was angry. But why? He’d been trying to relieve the pain from them; it wasn’t his fault Ashlee hadn’t come back yet.
The thought of Ashlee’s name brought the wolf’s shriek louder. Tristan fell to his knees. There was something about Ashlee the wolf didn’t like.
Ashlee needs to die.
Mate. We die for our mate, we don’t kill her. Or we end our own life and wait for her in the next one, where we beg forgiveness for causing her pain.
His wolf had spoken to him. When had he last heard him? How many hours had it been? Tristan fell even further to the ground, he lay out flat on his stomach, his hands still on his ears to drown out the noise his wolf made.
His wolf was right. Ashlee was his treasure. He held part of her soul inside of his and, needing her desperately, he called to it. She rose up inside of him. Tristan could feel Ashlee’s goodness wrap itself around him like a warm blanket. He closed his eyes for a moment, but Ashlee roared at him to get up and do something to fix his problem. If he was burning, he needed to put out the fire.
Kill her. That voice, his Alpha.
Not Alpha.
Tristan rolled onto his back and screamed. What was happening to him?
You told her you were your mother’s son.
He had told Ashlee’s mother he was his mother’s son. He’d been so sure he wouldn’t lose control.
How had he let this happen? He roared, his pain not physical but mental anguish this time.
Kill her.
In the back of his mind, he heard Ashlee’s soul speak to him again. It wanted him to put out the fire. The cool breeze touched him again and he sighed. Ashlee was right. He needed to cool off, that was the key. But where? The cliffs he stood on gave him a perfect view of the water that surrounded the island.
He stood up.
Kill her, boy.
His wolf howled and Tristan ran for the edge of the cliff. The water below would do the trick. He leapt.
In the distance, he heard Michael scream his name as the cool, rough water surrounded him.
If you won’t kill her, you will die.
Then kill me.
Chapter Eleven
Ten minutes after her father and Kendrick Kane left her in a pretend snit, Ashlee felt safe enough to start the first part of her plan. In what little time she’d had to prepare for this nightmare, she had tried to be meticulous and organized. She stuck her hand in her pants pocket and felt for the needle that contained her best hope of success. It was still there.
Her wolf wanted blood, but Ashlee knew it was wise to be prudent and not just assume that all would be better with the witch’s death. They might need the woman. She closed her eyes and let the Aunts’ knowledge flow into her. How did someone pick out a witch from, say, a non-magical person by just looking at them?
Adeline’s voice filled her head.
A witch’s aura is different from the aura of other people. The magic she carries, it alters her. Close your eyes and let your magic open you to the universe. Once you do, you will see auras and you will see hers is different.
Hell. Why couldn’t anything be simple?
A witch will also smell different. She uses many herbs in her potions and spells. Look specifically for valerian; it’s foul-smelling.
Locating valerian was something Ashlee could actually do. Valerian was also found in potpourri; Ashlee had created some one summer at sleep-away camp. It had soothing properties, and when it was mixed with nicer herbs, it picked up the scent of the better-smelling plants.
Ashlee opened the door to the office and was relieved to see no one around. It made sense. Kendrick and Claudius wouldn’t want her father to know about the non-legitimate aspect of their clinic; they would never be able to explain armed guards or mercenaries hanging around the hallways. In less than four hours, her wolf scent would return, so Ashlee needed to hurry.
Lit by fluorescent lights, the hallway outside of the office looked institutional; it reminded Ashlee of the countless hospitals she’d visited when her father dragged her all over the country to see gynecological specialists. She closed her eyes and sniffed. Inside she could feel her wolf become alert. Scents were her wolf’s specialty and Ashlee actually looked forward to letting her flex her whiffing abilities.
To the right she smelled nothing, not even the scent of a rodent. She had the sudden urge to turn around and start sniffing at the walls to see if there were any rodents of any kind she could track—for a moment her wolf acted more like a bloodhound. Ashlee remembered the herbs she’d taken to suppress her wolf smell could make her wolf a little loopy. She shook of the feeling and turned her head to the left to sniff in that direction.
Bingo.
All the living and breathing creatures in the building were in that direction. At least it was a place to start. She walked casually down the hallway. She didn’t want to seem like she didn’t belong there.
She wondered what Tristan would say about this whole arrangement, the inside of this world Kendrick had created. Kendrick ran things here and was treated like an important man, while thirty male wolf shifters waited on an island for someone to explain to them what happened to their world.
In thirty years, they hadn’t even done the Alpha ceremony. Technically, the man who created all of this was still their fearless leader. Ashlee’s breath hitched as her wolf howled in discontent. Ashlee, herself, was pissed as hell and had to settle for clenching her hands into fists to handle the rage.
She sniffed the air again. She smelled people behind the closed office doors. They were just humans, probably bad ones, but not the witch she needed to find. Herbs, she smelled herbs, and they were definitely in the direction she walked. She felt nothing but frustration when she reached the end of the hallway and had not located the witch.
This whole thing would go much better if she could just shift into her wolf form. She pushed that thought away. The last time she’d shifted, she was by herself and would still be there if Tristan hadn’t come and rescued her. So she would not attempt the shift here in the middle of this danger zone, by herself, no matter how much her wolf wanted it.
She looked around. The scent was stronger beneath her, which meant the witch was downstairs. Ashlee considered her options; there was an elevator, but she wouldn’t have too many escape options if she got caught. Or she had the stairs. The stairs it had to be.
She took the stairs two at time, the clicking of her heels as she ran the only sound as she descended one level.
She pushed at the door. It opened easily, making a loud bang as it hit the wall behind it. Ashlee grimaced at the sound. She scanned the room, worried someone had heard the door slam. But no one was about. She sighed in relief and wondered if everyone was hidden because of her father’s visit, or if things at IPAG were always this locked up and quiet.
This hallway was different than the one upstairs. It was darker both in lighting and interior design. The walls were a dark, navy blue color and the lights were not working as perfectly as the ones upstairs. Ashlee guessed they would not be showing her father this portion of the ‘hospital’ on his ‘tour.’ She inhaled the air to see what scents she could catch.
The floor she stood on was polluted with scents, one that certainly belonged to a witch. Ashlee smiled; soon this ordeal would be over.
She walked forward, keeping her nose in the air for extra precaution. The longer she used her scenting ability, the easier and broader it became. She caught her father’s scent off in the distance, reminiscent of cinnamon and peppermint gum. Kendrick, and his sick wolf smell, was with him. At least she knew he was still okay.