Page 96 of Wind with a Chance of Wolfsbane

Jonathan tried to wrap his mind around everything that was coming at him. He put that photo down and skimmed his fingers over another. This one had the twins in it again, but they were university-aged, both wearing Grimm Cove College T-shirts as they posed in front of the house he was in now. One of the twins had on a pair of thick dark glasses.

Willa!

Jonathan stepped back and stared at all the photos, the novel, and the watch. Willa was a Murray. The daughter of Alvin and Kate. Elation shot through him but was quickly quelled by a sickening thought. Did that mean she’d been working with Helen Murray all those years ago in Detroit? Had she and her sister been bait used to lure Jonathan close before someone tried to run him down? Had he spent twenty-two years worrying about a traitor?

It fit. They’d been there at the same time everything had gone to hell in a handbasket, and a Murray coin had been left in the aftermath of the attempted abduction.

Shock gave away quickly to anger that seeped into his bones.

Another thought surged upward. Why did the room smell like his mate—the white wolf? Had she done something to the white wolf? Was she working with her aunt still? Was Helen finally surfacing after having vanished twenty-two years ago, and was she making a move against Jonathan by way of his mate?

He tried to sort through the endless barrage of questions flying through his mind. It was all too much.

His gaze centered on the pictures of Willa. A deep-set sense of betrayal filled him.

Did Willa have something to do with the white light from years ago? The same light that stole his mate from him, never to be seen again.

Fury burst free of him, opening a floodgate to his wolf. He dashed from the room and down the stairs, acting purely on instinct. He found himself darting out the back door of the home and into a large yard.

The compulsion to head in the direction of the woods that were outside of campus swept over him, and he did just that. He ran full out, knowing that if any human saw him, it would raise suspicion because his speed wasn’t normal. He didn’t care. He’d spent eighteen years hunting for his mate and unnecessarily worrying about Willa—a woman who was working with the enemy.

He raced through the woods, leaping over brush and downed trees, following his instincts. Within minutes, he was deep in the woods, near one of the waterfalls. His attention went straight to the cave he’d claimed his mate in years ago.

His lips curled as his gums burned with the need to shift forms. If he lost himself to the wolf, he might not get the answers he needed out of Willa. He had to find out where the white wolf was, and if Willa was working with Helen, it was the fastest way to achieve those answers.

Jonathan went for the cave opening, knowing deep down that he’d find his prey there. Had she laid another trap for him? Was her twin there, waiting to ambush him? Would he find Helen among them, a dagger at the ready?

Once inside the cave, Jonathan found Willa there, kneeling, her fingers skimming the broken shackles that were scattered on the floor. She twisted around quickly, coming to her feet, surprise in her eyes and tears tracking down her cheeks.

“Where is she?” demanded Jonathan, the words coming out in a growl. He’d fully intended to go at her as if she were the enemy, but seeing her standing there, her eyes rimmed with red, left him rooted in place, his fists clenched at his sides. Unexpectedly, he was torn between the urge to get answers and the burning need to hug her and tell her everything was going to be all right.

“Jonathan?” Willa took a half step back and glanced past him as if she was expecting company. “H-how did you find me? Why are you here? Is Astria with you?”

He continued to struggle with the strange mix of urges he was suffering from.

She stared past him more as if she was expecting someone.

His nostrils flared. “Is your sister going to ram a dagger in my back?”

“W-what?” asked Willa, her hand going to her upper chest, drawing his attention to the area. Her shirt fit her in a way that left him able to see her every curve.

Damn, if he still didn’t find her totally and completely alluring. His groin added a third option to his choices on how to handle the situation. He could demand answers, hug her, or beg her to alleviate the throbbing need in his jeans.

“You think Mina wants to stab you?” she asked, easing back more, seeming to be lost as to what was going on. “Hold on, you know Mina?”

“What the bloody hell are you up to?” He managed to avoid shouting—barely.

She took another step backward, but the sole of her shoe caught on the uneven, rocky cave floor, and she fell.

Jonathan lunged at her, only it wasn’t to attack. It was to help. He caught her arm as gently as he could, keeping her from fully falling. He jerked her toward him in a controlled manner. He wasn’t sure why he was treating her with kid gloves. She was involved with what had happened in Detroit to the Van Helsing slayers, and she had something to do with his mate’s disappearance.

He was sure of it.

Just like in Detroit, warmth shot through his hand at the point of contact with Willa.

She sucked in a huge breath, her brow knitting in the process. She stared harder at him and glanced past him again as if expecting someone else to be joining them. “Why did you follow me here? What do you want? Where is your friend—Marcy?”

“Marcy has nothing to do with this,” Jonathan said harshly, still holding her arm. He dipped his head and fought to keep from kissing the damn woman. This was all wrong. He was supposed to get answers from her. Not want to kiss her.

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