Page 140 of Gift from the Stone

I didn’t talk to the kid yesterday, but seeing him broke my heart. I watched from outside his cell as Tillman and Draken went in to inform him we were coming here today, and the look of both hope and heartbreak on his face was so sad, I wanted to cry for him.

He only relaxed a little when Draken commanded it. I understand what it feels like to live in constant anxiety, so I feel for the boy.

“So we’re looking for a house with a pink door. Are we just going to walk through the streets until we find it?” I ask.

“You’ll see in a second, Primary, but this little town is pretty much just one street,” Caspian says.

And of course he’s right. As we walk around a bend in the well-worn path, there’s a single street that continues on straight and on either side are houses, along with a few other buildings.

This is an extremely small community.

A few people peek outside their doors and windows as we pass by, but for the most part, the shifters who are out and about just simply wave or go on about their business. I’m not picking up any thoughts that would lead me to believe they’ve fallen into the hands of the Mastery, which is a good sign.

As a bright-ass pink door catches my eye from two houses down, I giggle. Yesterday when the guys asked Layton to describe his home so we’d find it easier, a childlike smile broke out across his face as he told them the story about how his mom really wanted a pink door, and when his fathers said no, she made her own paint, did it herself, and dared any of them to touch it.

The fact that she did it anyway, then gave them some sass, brings me so much joy. It seems like something so silly to say no to, so I’m completely on her side and I don’t even know her.

“I think I should knock,” I announce, which is answered with an echoing of nos.

“You’ll stay right in the middle of us where you are, princess. In and out like I said,” Corentin declares and the others murmur their agreements.

“You’re all being ridiculous, but fine.” I roll my eyes.

I don’t have the slightest feeling that anything is off in this little community, thankfully, but I’m not surprised by their normal overprotectiveness.

Corentin approaches the door as the four of us stand a few feet behind him, and I give him an incredulous look as he bangs on the damn thing like we’re getting ready to break it down.

If I were in there, I’d ignore his ass.

“Who are you?” a deep voice hisses out from behind the partially open door, and I feel all the guys move closer to me.

“Corentin Vito. I need your Nexus and Primary to come with me,” he responds just as forcefully.

“Tough shit. We’re not going anywhere.” The man sneers. Before he can slam the door in Corentin’s face, a softer voice filters through to my ears.

“What’s this about?” she asks.

“We shouldn’t discuss this here. You all just need to—” Corentin starts again, but I push past the others to stand next to him.

“Sira, right?” I ask softly.

“How do you know my name?” she asks, her eyes studying me like she’s searching for some sort of inkling as to if we know each other or not.

“Layton told us,” I say quietly.

The demeanor of both of them instantly changes, and it’s as if I watch them age in front of me. Their faces wrinkle in concern and heartbreak as their auras grow dark and gloomy. Sira’s eyes fill to the brim with tears ready to fall at any second, and the man’s shoulders slump as his pleading gaze bounces back and forth between me and Corentin.

“Do…do you know where he is?” she whispers.

“Yes, and he’s safe. That’s why we need you to come with us,” I urge.

She turns around, rushing back through her house, and I hear her calling out the names of the rest of her men. It wouldn’t surprise me if they came out here fired up, hearing her scream their names that way. If I called out to my guys like that, they’d come out gifts blazing.

Linking my arm through Corentin’s, I pull him a couple steps back, out of the center of the doorway as I hear the rumble of footsteps coming back toward the door. Sira obviously told them what little we’ve told her because all three men who now join us are wearing looks of hope and disbelief.

“You know where our son is?” one of them asks.

“We do, but we’re not discussing this here. We don’t know who lives amongst you in this community. I give you my word, he’s safe and we’re taking you to see him. We will discuss everything with you there,” Corentin declares, growing impatient that they’re not just listening to him. But I can hear and sense their hesitation. After watching what happened to their son, it’s no surprise they believe this is some sort of trap.

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