Page 76 of Howl for the Gargoyle

I gaped out at the dark sky outside of the window, and the silence on the phone changed, dulled, the call cut off from the other end of the line.

"Hannah?" Kiernan prompted.

My head snapped in his direction and his eyes widened, steps falling backwards, instinct tugging him away from the threat I'd become in just seconds. Kelsey stepped between us, feathers bristling.

"What's happened?" she asked.

"Someone has Rafe," I said, and the full moon was too close for me to clear away the growl now lodged in my throat. "My…" I refused the word he'd used, shuddering at the thought. "The werewolf who attacked me. He says…we have a connection?"

Kelsey's head tipped, shaking slightly. "That's not true. It's not like vampires. Your only connection would be to your mate."

He called me his mate. I was going to be sick at the suggestion, my body rebelling any claim such a beast might have on me.

"Can you feel Rafe?" Kelsey asked.

I already had my phone up again, my finger sliding through old calls, searching for the number I needed most in the moment, but I paused at her question, trying to breathe through my panic and finding it snapping my heartbeat faster with every passing second. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, a clawing ache running down my throat. Rafe. I needed to get to Rafe. Was it too soon? Or was the voice on the other end of the line right, and I'd only wanted him to be my mate? Had the claws that had marked my skin and changed my life taken possession of some other part of me too?

No.

The answer was clear, and it gave me the first reprieve. No, there was a tug in my chest and an ache in my shoulders, worry and nerves spiraling like a top waiting to catch its breath and crash. And it'd been there for hours. I'd assumed it was my own excitement to see Rafe, the honeymoon jitters of a new relationship, but what if…

I leaned into the feelings rather than trying to push them aside, and I found myself swaying to the left, my steps stumbling, a frightened but safe echo calling for me. Rafe.

I opened my eyes again, turning and running for the door, hitting the call button on my phone.

"Hannah! What do we do?" Kiernan asked.

"Hannah?"

"Ray! Please, I need your help. He has my mate."

There was a slam of a door, the buzz of voices in the background, Ray's breath uneven. "Hannah…we… I have a lead. I was waiting to tell you. Do you know where they are?"

"No," I snarled. And then I closed my eyes again, searching for that hollow tunnel towards stress and pain that was pleading for me. "West."

Ray grunted. "Where are you? I'm coming."

I stared at the photograph in my shaking hands, blinking at the torn face in the center, the starving gaze staring back at the camera. Familiar features, and yet an almost unrecognizable person.

"You know him," Ray said.

"He said his name was Fletcher. He showed up at my group therapy," I murmured.

The scars on his face were ragged, barely held together in the photograph. I’d thought they were still healing, but only because I hadn't realized how deep they'd been to start.

Fletcher hadn't been turned into a werewolf this year. His transformation was almost a decade old.

I looked up, gasping, my mind fueled by my werewolf's instinct, steering Ray along the springy band of connection I had with Rafe. "No, no, turn right," I cried out.

Ray tensed in the driver's seat and yanked hard on the wheel, but his lights and sirens were on and no other cars moved into our path as he corrected.

"We're close," I whined, sitting up.

"We have to wait for the others. You gotta let us go in first, Hannah," Ray said.

I growled, but I was too focused on the road, on the barely visible path we needed to wind to take us to the edge of Humboldt Park, almost out of the city entirely.

"Trust me when I say that you, more than anyone, deserves to have a crack at this fucker," Ray answered, his own voice growing rough. "But we gotta do this right. Can't make any mistakes if we're gonna make sure he stays locked up this time."

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