Page 49 of Asher

My heart clutches at the thought of the adorable, cheeky little boy lost and exposed to the elements.

“How can we help?” Zoe asks.

“We’re going house to house to see if anyone’s seen him, if you want to—”

“Yes,” she says, and Asher nods at her.

“Thank you. My cousin is making copies of Isaac’s picture. Do you know where my aunt and uncle live?”

“Isaac’s parents? Yes. He always waves from the window when I clear the road in front of the house.” She pales slightly. “Is this my fault?”

“What?” I ask. “How would it be your fault?”

“He’s too little to teleport yet, right? So… if I wasn’t clearing the roads, would he have been able to get out at all?”

“It’s not your fault,” Asher assures her firmly. “We didn’t keep the kids locked up before you came, and this isn’t the first time one’s wandered off in winter. They find a way.”

Looking slightly reassured, Zoe leaves.

“Let me get my coat and stuff,” I tell Asher. “How’re your aunt and uncle?”

He leans against the doorframe. “Panicky but trying not to be. They thought he was playing in his room, so they’re not even sure exactly how long he’s been gone.” He swallows hard. “I didn’t want to say, but… normally when a kid sneaks out in winter, they never make it that far because the snowdrifts slow them down.”

But because we’ve been clearing the roads, it’s easier for them to get around now. “That doesn’t mean he’s left the village,” I insist. “If anything, the big drifts outside are more likely to keep him in. But let’s go find him.”

* * *

The village isn’tthat big, and we have a lot of volunteers helping, so it’s not long before we know nobody’s seen him. That’s not a surprise—with the way demons teleport everywhere, avoiding going out into the cold, unless someone happened to be looking out a window that faced the right way at the right moment, it was unlikely anyone would see one little boy.

But we’ve searched the village from end to end, and he’s nowhere to be found. We head back to Micah’s parents’ house, which is being used as the base for the search, to prepare to venture outside the village.

His mother is a wreck, though to anyone unfamiliar with demons, she’d look only mildly upset. Damaris is hovering beside her, face absolutely livid. I’m not sure who she’s angry with—the situation, maybe?—but I’m going to stay out of her way just in case. I feel so helpless, though—I don’t know the area, so I can’t contribute much right now, with everyone poring over maps and trying to decide which way Isaac would have gone. It’s already getting dark, and the light but steady snow has already concealed his footprints, and I can’t help wishing he’d decided to do this last night, when it was clear.

There’s no point wishing for stupid things, though. I inhale deeply to steady myself, taking comfort from the hints of Isaac’s scent that permeate his home—

Fuck me. “I’m so stupid,” I say out loud, getting everyone’s attention. Sure, I’m used to ignoring my sense of smell, but Iknowhellhounds are often called in for search and rescue because of how good we are at smelling things. Clearly I don’t think fast under pressure.

“What?” Damaris asks, and the word is loaded with a threat. I try to ignore her, taking another deep breath, then turning to Hilda, Isaac’s mother.

“Could you get me something of Isaac’s? Maybe the shirt he wore yesterday, if it hasn’t been washed, or his pillowcase?”

She blinks at me in blank confusion.

“What the—” an angry voice starts, but Zac’s shout of comprehension drowns them out.

“Yes! Yes! Aunt, go, find something, quick!” He crosses the room in long strides to reach my side. “Do you think you can find him?”

The energy in the room shifts to hope so fast, it’s painful. Hilda races out of the room.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I think there’s a good chance, but I’m not trained to use my nose. But I can try, and if I can’t, we’ll call someone who is. Alistair.” Dammit, why has it taken this long for my brain to start working? “He’s trained. We should call him.”

“It’s snowing,” Micah points out, somewhat desperately. “Can’t you try, at least get a hint of which way he went? Even if Alistair comes right away, we’re still going to lose precious minutes.”

He’s right—I know enough about scent tracking to know weather is a big factor. I nod. “Yes, of course.” But the doubt is heavy now.

Asher’s arm slides around my shoulders. “You can do this,” he murmurs, too softly for anyone else to hear. “I have faith in you.”

My nerves steady a little. Icando this. Just because I haven’t been trained to track by scent doesn’t mean I can’t smell where Isaac has been. My nose automatically does that shit all the time. Hellhounds have the best sense of smell of any species, and I’m taking things in that I don’t even register half the time. The more I concentrate now, the stronger Isaac’s scent is in this room.

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