Page 70 of Into the Lion's Den (Secrets of the Northland Shifters)

My mother’s scream. It was a sound that would echo in my ears forever.

My father ran into the yard.

I could remember my mother crying. Her terrified face.

They fought. My father pleaded. But that night she got into her car and drove away.

She’d never come back. Melanie had been only two.

And it was all my fault.

“Morning, boss,” said Robbie as he came in the back door with one of the other members of the maintenance crew.

My eyes were firmly set on Sarah’s doorknob. “Do you have the master keys on you?”

“Always.” Robbie jangled the ring of keys on his belt.

“Open this door.”

“Sarah’s room?” Robbie asked, sounding puzzled.

“Yes.”

Robbie hesitated; this wasn’t something I’d ever made him to do before. But he ultimately complied.

When I stepped inside, Sarah’s room was empty. The window was open. I crossed the floor, rounding the end of her bed to close it. Then I turned to face the room.

I took in a shaky breath, letting it out slowly. Sarah’s bedsheets were a tangled mess, reminding me of my own. The scent of her body permeated the air, making the mountain lion rise to the surface.

I was right not to take things too far with her.

Humans were nothing if not predictable, and Sarah was just like our mother. She was going to bail on us right when we needed her most.

* * *

I stormedinto the staff cafeteria, looking for any of my siblings. I needed to confess what Sarah had witnessed. We needed to discuss damage control. I found Sam eating a bowl of cereal while scrolling through his phone.

“Sam!”

He didn’t even look up. “What did you say the name of that band was?”

“What band?” I asked.

Sam’s eyebrows drew together. “The one that canceled on the Maddox party.”

I glanced toward the rain-splattered windows and the parking lot beyond. “Taylor Something. The Taylor Experience.”

One of the Jeeps was missing. Had Sarah stolen it to make her getaway?

“The Taylor Holt Experience,” Angel said as he joined us and took a seat next to Sam. He had a bagel slathered in peanut butter and a cup of black coffee.

I was irritated by the misdirection of the conversation, but at least with Angel here I could kill two birds with one stone. They all needed to know that Sarah knew our secret.

“A guy I follow online just posted this to his feed.” Sam slid his phone across the table toward me.

I picked it up. On the screen was a photo from a concert. The caption read: “Best night ever. Thank you @TaylorHoltExperience!”

“That concert was last night,” Sam said.

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