Page 51 of Shadows of the Soul

“Do you know where he is?”

“No.”

“How about how we undo the spell?”

“No.”

“What do you know?” Hudson snapped.

“I know how he’s changing your pack into wildies.”

“How?” Norbert asked.

“He’s poisoning your drinks, maybe your food.”

“Impossible,” Hudson scoffed. “Our food and drinks are checked, and most of it comes from source.”

I pressed my lips together. This was going to make me unpopular. “I can guarantee if I test your apple juice at the lodge from a few days ago, the one Mary spilled, and the boys lapped up, it would be spelled with some voodoo shit that allows the practitioner to enter their minds.”

“Which means…” Hudson trailed off as he put it together. His arms tightened around me.

“It means what?” Rebecca asked.

“It means they have a traitor in the midst, a shifter whose loyalties no longer lie with Hudson or the pack.”

“Well, shit,” Rebecca concluded.

Cora Roberts—bearer of bad news, bad tidings, and bad juju.

Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

There are worse things I could drink.

Everybody was staring at me. Even the dead. I could sense their damn pitying eyes burning a hole into my skull. “Will you all stop looking at me please?” I said through gritted teeth.

They had carried me to the parlor after I vetoed being taken to my rooms. I had to hide the ball of heavenly energy that was residing in my personal rooms at all costs.

“No one is looking at you,” Hudson growled in my ear as his arm tightened around me. He’d stuck to me like glue. It was both endearing and enraging. I was conflicted.

“I’m looking at her,” Sebastian stated as air breezed across my face.

I huffed. “Stop making rude gestures in front of me.”

“I thought you were blind.”

“I am, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

“Have some bread and honey,” the doc said as a waft of delicious home-baked bread followed his steady, slow footsteps.

“I’m getting the bread and honey treatment? Am I dying?”

Norbert chuckled, the clean, sweet, warm yeasty aroma got stronger and made me drool slightly. It was like you were inhaling a blanket on a cold winter day. I didn’t care. No one was going to pick on the blind chick for drooling. A warm plate landed on my lap. My hands found the bread, and I munched on it with relish.

“How long until Anita gets here?” Rebecca asked. “I don’t like her vulnerable, particularly while the big bad is stalking her every move.”

The house phone buzzed.

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