Page 20 of Ascension of the Pack

I grimaced. I didn’t want to be insensitive but I had no further leads on Daniella until Steve got back to me with a plate number for the white van. There were thousands of brethren – and white vans – which made it really tricky to move the case forward.

Accountancy had taught me excellent time management and task prioritisation. Whilst I was stalled with finding Daniella, I’d move something else forward instead, but it felt indelicate to say that to David when he was clearly desperate. I couldn’t even imagine how I’d feel if Greg got snatched; it didn’t bear thinking about.

‘No,’ I said finally. ‘Plans are in motion that can’t be stopped.’

He sighed. ‘Indeed.’

‘It’s not because I don’t care about Daniella,’ I insisted. ‘But until I hear further from Steve…’ I trailed off and rubbed David’s arm. ‘Stay strong. I promise I’ll find her.’

Wewillfind her.Esme’s voice was reassuring; she had no doubt we’d find Daniella.

A small smile lifted the corners of David’s lips. ‘You know what, Alpha? I believe that you will.’

I was grateful for the vote of confidence, but his faith made me feel worse about my decision to barrel aheadwith the heist. I hadn’t been lying, though: thingswerein motion. We were speeding towards our goal of retrieving the orb, and I was certain that acquiring it could change everything, not just for me but for wolves everywhere.

Maybe getting it would even give Daniella the advantage she needed to rescue herself.

Chapter 13

The butterflies in my stomach were bigger than Bastion in his griffin form. Was I doing the right thing still doing the heist when I should be putting my all into finding Daniella? But I’d delayed the search for the orb for long enough. Then I thought of Daniella, alone and afraid, and thunked my head on the dashboard. Greg reached out and rubbed my back, soundlessly offering support.

It’s too late to second-guess ourselves now,Esme pointed out pragmatically.

You’re right. We’re about to go fullOcean’s 11.

You said there were four oceans, five if you count the southern one.

Ocean’s 11is a heist movie, a really good heist movie.

She snorted.We’re not doing a clever, secretive heist, we’re exploding a hole in the wall.

I winced. She was right: this wasn’t designed to be a subtle job. IwantedGeneve to know there had been atheft, and I wanted her to come at me with all she had. She’d demoted Emory and ruined his and Jess’s perfect life; this wasn’t a petty grudge I was holding onto. The Elder dragon deserved a smackdown and I was ready to give it to her.

I sat up as the car stopped. We’d arranged to meet the dwarves in a nondescript car park in Llangollen, a five-minute drive from Castell Dinas Bran, Geneve’s home and hoard. Greg was driving and I was next to him with Ben and Tarkers in the back. Wakado and Debbie were following in another car and all five dark seraph were, quite literally, in the wind.

We had parked up next to a red bus. ‘Come on,’ Greg said. ‘I’ll introduce you to Osian Jones.’

The name was as Welsh as they came. I didn’t really know what to expect from the dwarves and if I’d had more time, I would have researched their culture before meeting the creatures. And yes, they were designated as creatures because they didn’t need to return to the Common realm. But time was moving so fast and my attention span these days was limited so that I hadn’t had a spare moment to indulge in research.

‘Just … think before you speak,’ Greg urged.

I gave him a flat look. Ialwaysthought beforeI spoke.

‘I’m just saying, dwarves can be touchy. Don’t mention his stature.’

I rolled my eyes. Even the Common realm had managed to pick up that dwarves were small. Fiction always said the same thing about them; they were short, grumpy and bearded. Nothing Greg had said had persuaded me that fiction was wrong.

I looked around for some short, grumpy, bearded men loitering in the car park but saw none.

Greg tugged me towards the bus before rapping loudly on the door. It swung open with a hiss. As we boarded the bus, I struggled not to gape. It was full of dwarves, all with long beards, all diminutive in stature – and all completely drunk. I mean,reallysozzled.

The bus smelt of vodka and gin, and farts. Lots of farts. Oof.

‘To her downfall!’ a dark-haired dwarf at the back cried.

‘Ay!’ came the resounding reply as the dwarves cheered and sipped from their metal hip flasks.

‘Osian!’ Greg called loudly, looking disapprovingly at the shit-faced dwarves. ‘Perhaps we could speak outside?’

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