Page 44 of Barely Breathing

“You must be Anthony.” Lorelai stands,smoothing her dress. “I’ve seen pictures of you growing up with Tamara. I’m Lorelai.”

“Funny. Can’t say the same.” Anthony’s tone carries an edge beneath its politeness. He moves to stand protectively near my chair, just like he did when we were kids and supernatural visitors came calling.

“Hello, Peter.” Astrid, ever the proper hostess, tries to break the tension. “Would you care for coffee? Raw meat?”

Well, okay, that was catty. She’salmostalways the proper hostess. I can’t fault her. She’s probably under a lot of stress.

“No, thank you, Lady Astrid.” Peter’s gaze keeps darting between me and Lorelai. I see the moment he puts it together, his eyes widening slightly.

“Peter, this is Lorelai Weber,” I introduce. “Lorelai, Peter.”

“We have information about your friend,” Anthony says, directing his words to me. “But maybe we should discuss it when you’re done here.”

I straighten in my chair.

“No,” Astrid commands. “Now is fine. Everyone here knows about Paul being taken.”

“Everyone?” Peter asks, his usual playfulness replaced with caution. I can’t blame him. Astrid was never a fan of his friendship with Anthony.

“Lorelai has certain interests in the situation,” Astrid explains, her tone perfectly measured.

“Right then.” Anthony claps his hands together. “Should we maybe order breakfast while we sort out this mess? I hear the candy chef is gone, but I’m starving.”

Trust my brother to try lightening the mood with food. But his eyes tell me he has serious news to share about Paul. The question is, do I want to hear it in front of both my mothers?

No. I really don’t.

“Whatever you know about Paul, just say it,” I tell Anthony against my better judgment. “Everyone here is involved one way or another.”

Anthony exchanges a look with Peter, who shakes his head in denial with a glance at Lorelai.

“She can be trusted,” I say. “Please, Peter. I know you’re putting yourself at risk by helping us. We won’t betray you.”

“I promise,” Lorelai adds softly.

“You have my word,” Astrid adds.

“You have our protection,” Anthony says in front of his mother, so there is no mistaking his promise to his friend.

Peter sighs and then looks resigned. He gives a slight nod. “Tell them.”

“The ritual the wolves are planning requiresthree blood sacrifices under the full moon,” Anthony says.

Blood and moonlight.

“Three?” My hand finds the amulet. Thane was so insistent on getting it off me. The stone trembles against my skin, its ancient magic stirring like a restless beast. “Paul is one. I’m the second. Who’s the third?”

“That’s where it gets complicated.” Peter runs his fingers through his messy hair, which makes it worse. I can see he’s troubled, but I also know he wants to do the right thing. Betraying his pack by talking to us is not something he’d do lightly. “The Alpha’s been really secretive, even with the pack.”

The amulet flares with sudden heat like a warning beacon. Draakmar’s presence grows more insistent, as if he fears what Peter will say.

Peter glances nervously at the windows as if checking for watchers. Unless someone is watching from the sky, we’re too high for anyone to see us.

“But from what I’ve gathered, they need specific types of people. Someone touched by death magic. Someone with draconic magic. Someone with forgotten magic. All three are pure mortality. They’ve been searching for centuries.”

The stone around my neck shivers with energy, sending ripples of warmth across my skin. Draakmarstirs uneasily within the amulet. I want to tell him to calm down. His constant need for attention is becoming annoying.

“Why now?” Anthony asks. “What’s changed?”

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