Page 40 of Gone Hunting

Mimi has her evil hag persona firmly in place and she’s not dropping it any time soon. I’m not sure what she’s up to, and I’m not convinced she won’t attack. I stalk forward, knowing that whatever she’s up to, I’ll fare better than Celia.

Mimi levitates a foot off the ground, tendrils of gray and white smoke twisting and streaming from the hem of her dress and branching toward us like tentacles. Her glowing eyes narrow at my approach. “I know you,” she croaks.

She’s being formal. Fair enough. I straighten to my full height, balling my hands into tight fists, letting her know I’ll retaliate if provoked.

I tilt my head as a sign of respect from one powerful being to another. “I’m Aric Connor. Son of Aidan and Eliza Connor, purebred and Leader, future Alpha and protector of this young woman.”

Mimi pulls back her hood. Whatever magic she used to light her eyes recedes as clumps of curly gray and white hair spill down her back. Her dark beady eyes blink back at me behind a long, crooked nose and a face that carries over a hundred years of wrinkles.

She smiles, her gray lips pulling back to reveal her crooked teeth and all the mischief she’s known for. Mimi was never afraid to embrace the stereotype of a hag. I admire her for it, in a way. My issue with Mimi is that she’s nuts and one hex shy of a public stoning.

“I know you,” Mimi repeats, eyeing Celia without fear. “You’re the one they want.”

Every muscle in my frame clenches. “They can’t have her.”

I don’t know whotheyare, but no one is hurting Celia. Not while I’m around.

Mimi descends to the ground, the tendrils beneath her dress disappearing in a cloud as her small feet hit the battered soil. She shuffles toward Celia. I growl a warning, as do Koda and Gemini, who are suddenly there, urging Celia behind them.

Mimi waves her hand dismissively, as if we’re mere pests and not werewolves capable of tearing her apart.

“Hey, Aunt Mimi,” Liam says.

“Liam,” she says. She lifts her head, cackling when she gets a good look at his neck. “You’re looking taller, boy.”

Liam gives us a wink. “Told you I was her favorite.”

From one blink to the next, I’m at Celia’s side. Celia is small, but she’s a good head above Mimi’s bent frame. Celia tilts her head, something she sees in Mimi dissolving her long nails so that only her short human nails remain.

“You went hunting,” Mimi tells her, any semblance of humor long forgotten. She gingerly shakes her head when Celia falls perfectly still. “If you don’t learn to control your beast as you should, you will die as the dark ones intend.”

“The dark ones?” I ask. My teeth grind, making it hard to speak. “Who are they, Mimi?”

Mimi’s attention is lost on Celia. “So young,” Mimi says. “Too young to be cursed by so much evil.”

Celia’s chest rises and falls in pained intakes and exhales of breath. “You made the earth to shake and signaled the bad winds to form,” Mimi tells her. “The dark ones whisper your name and beg creatures bred of sin and malice to spill your blood.”

The cold scent of shock fills my nose. My friends withdraw, exchanging glances. I stay put, waiting for Celia to explain, despite sensing the truth to Mimi’s claims.

Celia’s voice trembles. “I didn’t do any of this. You have to believe me.” She’s no longer speaking to Mimi. She’s talking to me. “Please, Aric. I didn’t cause the storms or earthquakes. I don’t conjure magic. The only magic I possess stays within me.”

Mimi watches Celia closely. There’s no fear or malice glinting in her dark eyes, but there is enough to guess Mimi understands what’s happening and that we came to the right place.

“You can’t wield it, girl,” Mimi agrees. “But you and your sisters bathe in it.” She cackles when Celia’s eyes widen. “Yes, you do, precious. Yes, you do.”

Mimi cackles again, this time with enough crazy to stand the hairs on the back of my neck at attention. “Celia canchange,” I begin.

“I don’t speak of the tiger lurking inside of her,” Mimi says. “The same beast who compels her to torture and maim.”

The growl that escapes my chest is primal, my wild side begging to sink our fangs into Mimi’s flesh for the insult. I’m no fool. I know Celia is capable of killing—especially if she has no choice. She has the weapons, the ability, and the strength. But torture? No. Not this sweet, pretty thing who touches me like I can break—who blushes as easily as she breathes and who won’t be seen without clothes.

“Celiawouldn’tdo that,” I snarl.

Mimi grins with all the crazy she’s famous for. “Are you sure, young wolf, son of our most cherished Aidan and Eliza?”

Celia bows her head, glaring at the ground even as humiliation shrinks her small form inward.

I hate the way Mimi is talking to her, saying things about Celia that don’t make sense. I’m ready to draw first blood and demand an apology. Except Celia isn’t denying Mimi’s allegations. Her lips purse tight, as terror and shame overtake her.

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