Page 96 of Cursed Bonds: An Alpha's Destiny

A finger of unease began to poke at the back of my mind. Something didn’t add up, but I couldn’t connect the dots yet.

“Mr. Stone? Mr. Stone?” a gruff voice called out from behind me.

Turning, I found the captain of the fire brigade.

“Yes?”

“A moment, please?” he said, waving me over.

Frowning, I left Langston and joined the captain. Waylan walked over as well, obviously as curious as I was.

“How bad is the damage?” I asked.

“Damage? Interesting you say that,” the captain said.

“Why?” Waylan asked, casting a nervous glance my way.

“No damage, really. A little charring on one wall, but nothing too bad. This looks staged to me.”

“What?” I waved at the building, at the smoke still pouring out of the windows. “That’s not a fire?”

He shook his head and waved for one of his men carrying a smoldering metal bucket to come over.

“This was pulled out of one of the back rooms of the building,” the captain said. “There’s probably two more in there, at least. We’re taking care of them now.”

I looked down into the bucket, seeing only greasy black water and inky wisps of smoke rising out.

“What the fuck is it?” Waylan asked, taking the words out of my own mouth.

“Have to wait for a full analysis, but from what we can tell, it looks like a homemade smoke bomb and a helluva big one. Made with potassium nitrate and sugar. Easy as you please to make. You can buy both items at the grocery store. Makes a shit ton—er, pardon my French—a ton of smoke. Anyone looking would assume it was a raging fire.” The captain looked at me. “You or your town got any enemies, Mister Stone? Looks like someone is screwing with you. Trying to freak you all out with a mostly harmless scene.”

Waylan and I looked at each other. Confusion at first, then slowly, dawning horror. A distraction? Something to get us all here, in this spot. A trick to ensure the actual prey was helpless.

“Eren?” Waylan asked.

“Kirsten,” I gasped, already turning, sprinting away.

“Keys are in my truck!” Waylan screamed.

I made a beeline for his car and jumped in. Shayna was shouting at me, asking me what was happening, but I ignored her, my heart pounding in my ears. Beads of panicked sweat were already breaking out all over my body, making me feel clammy and greasy. Kirsten would have been safe, but only if she stayed at the cabin. She’d planned on leaving, though. Had she already left?

All of this was Eren’s plan. He’d torn us apart with his little show the other night. He must have known she’d leave. God, he could have been waiting in the woods for her to go beyond the ward. All I could do was pray she hadn’t left yet. Maybe all this was just Eren fucking with me. Nothing more. Maybe.

The truck nearly went up on two wheels as I turned into Kirsten’s driveway a few minutes later. No car.

“Shit!” I slammed my fist into the steering wheel and dug out my phone. Opening the door and running up the steps, I tried calling her. No answer. Almost ripping the door off the hinges, I barged in. The suitcases and boxes were already gone. Panicking and trying to call Kirsten again, I checked the whole house. Bathroom cleaned out, kitchen clean, trash taken out. Nothing. And no answer on the second call.

She was gone, but where? The interstate? The highway? One of the back country roads? There were half a dozen routes she could have taken to go back to Houston. Which did I choose?

I ran back to the truck, climbing in and calling her one more time. With no way of knowing, I decided to assume she’d do what I would do—use the old mountain road that would lead to the interstate. It was a much longer and circuitous route, but it was the best way to avoid Scottsdale.

All I could do was choose an option and go with it. I’d have to pray I chose correctly.

The phone rang and rang as I slammed the truck into reverse and turned. Finally, she answered.

“Jace?”

Chapter 29

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