Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
Track the scent!
My orders whip out through the pack bond, even as I know it’s too late. Whatever this is, it won’t be that easy to find our lost people.
A snarl rips from my throat, echoing Aurum’s fury. Every instinct screams to chase after our pack members, to track down whoever dared desecrate their bodies. But we can’t afford to lose focus now.
The spot where the green circle pulsed now shows bare ground, as if nothing supernatural ever happened here.
Even the scent of decay and death is gone.
We catalog the scents, but so much of it has disappeared, as if it never existed. Death. Decay. Magic that burns my nose. And underneath it all, a sickly-sweet vampire stench. All gone.
Alpha. We can’t catch the trail.
I figured as much, but won’t give up that easily. Keep looking. Keep your noses to the ground.
But after ten minutes of methodical searching, the truth becomes clear. Whatever magic whisked the bodies away left no trace for us to follow.
Vester’s contact makes my mental ears itch. We are here. Signs of attack everywhere. A lot of blood.
Another growl builds in our chest. Aurum’s rage goes cold. Casualties?
No bodies. No people. It’s completely empty. We can see claw marks, broken buildings. But no bodies, living or dead. The entire camp’s been cleared out.
Aurum rumbles as we finally escape the sod house. Jericho would not leave so easily.
Perhaps.
Hold position, I tell Vester, already gathering my party. We’re heading your way.
* * *
Jericho’s camp is as empty and ravaged as Vester reported. Unlike the sod house, though, there’s a lot of scent to wade through.
Still no sign of Ryder, but we can find traces of Jericho and his vampires.
The scents paint a picture of chaos. Blood. Fear. Rage. Death lingers beneath it all, a stench that burns my nose and makes my wolf snarl.
Vampire-scent is abundant, but it’s impossible to tell if it’s from friend or foe.
One of the wolves checks in. Alpha. Found traces of Jericho’s scent leading north, but it vanishes at the tree line.
Our team is spread out, methodically checking every corner. The vampires have left their stink everywhere. But underneath…
There’s something else. Something familiar that makes my skin prickle. I follow it down a hallway we’ve already cleared, past overturned furniture and shattered windows.
The scent grows stronger in what used to be a bedroom. A few books litter the floor, pages torn and scattered. A strange thing to find, I’d think. We don’t have many books at Wolf’s Landing. They don’t rank high on the survival priority list.
We already cleared this room. Vester follows me, his ears pricked forward in curiosity.
Ignoring him, I circle the room, letting Aurum take over.
It’s faint, but it’s there. Ozone and lightning. The air before a storm.
Magic.
Claws click against the wooden floor as I follow its trail to the pile of destroyed books. Beneath the heap, something pulses with energy. Not the sickly green corruption from the sod house, but something older. Ancient.
It reminds me of Ava’s magic. I can’t always sense it, but sometimes I can smell it.
Aurum recedes into the back of my head as I shift back to sift through the pile. Without his nose, the scent fades into obscurity.
None of the books seem particularly special. They look like the kinds of books you’d find near the checkout of major stores—at least, before the electronic generation.
Thrillers. Murder mysteries. Basic paperbacks that have been torn apart.
One even has a half-naked man on the cover with some trivial title.
Thumbing through them provides no more clarity. Maybe the magic origin is in the floor?
“Can you smell this?” I ask Vester. who’s still watching me.
He shakes his head with a soft snort. What are you looking for? It just smells like books to me.
After the fifth book I thumb through, a folded piece of paper falls to the ground.
Opening it reveals a few strange symbols. They shimmer like oil instead of ink, and are foreign to me.
Maybe Ava will know what it means.
I tuck the paper into my backpack and pull out my watch. My fingers tap the familiar pattern to connect with my mate.
Nothing happens.
The screen stays dark. No static, no interference—just dead air.
“That’s not right.” I try the sequence again, slower this time. The watch face remains lifeless, a black mirror reflecting my frown.
The emptiness of the room presses in, making my skin crawl. Something about this whole situation stinks worse than vampire corruption.
I switch channels, attempting to reach Kellan instead. Same result. The silence mocks me.
“Come on.” My jaw tightens as I try Lisa’s frequency. Then Marcus. Then the general emergency channel. Each attempt meets the same wall of nothing.
The watch has never failed before. We tested it extensively, have been using them for ages. This can’t be a simple malfunction.
“Vester.” My voice carries through the building. “Get back here.”
He appears in the doorway, ears perked at my tone. What is it?
“The watch isn’t working. I can’t reach anyone at Wolf’s Landing.”
His eyes narrow. Try mine.
I take his offered watch, but the result is the same. Dead air across all channels.
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LISA
I hate feeling helpless.
Ava’s out there being chased down by a freaking monster and I’m stuck in a building, surrounded by wolf shifters with a bad attitude.
Not toward me—but in general. The kind of badassery that makes me feel as safe as I guess I can feel, despite knowing that no one can apparently damage the strange wolf.
Guilt and frustration war inside of me. I was starting to get a little comfortable with the idea that I can defend myself, damn it. It was feeling good. Today’s been not only a huge blow to that bit of ego, but it’s ramped up all kinds of not-great feelings.
Like, I know a lot of lives were lost today. Even one is too many.
And I know my bodyguards were expecting to be part of that number.
Hell, I did, too.
And now I can’t even help Ava. If I could just send my damn guards to her, I would.
“Calm down, child.” The Grand Sage glances up from his meditation, acting for all the world like Apocalypse v2.0 isn’t happening in our own front yard. “Your agitation is riling them.”
My guards’ eyes flick toward me for the hundredth time, their shoulders rigid beneath their tactical gear. Heat creeps up my neck. They’re always so calm and collected, it never really occurred to me that my agitation might feed theirs.
It makes sense, though.