A low chuckle came from in front of me, and I couldn’t help but wonder if the Fire Wolf had known how I’d responded to the warded area we’d just stepped through.
When the sensation of swimming through silky heat vanished, I blinked.
“Where are we?”
We stood in a small room surrounded by brick walls. Several doors were on the far side of the room. A couch and chair, along with a large flat-screen TV, sat in the corner. Beside that were a fridge and a tiny kitchen that reminded me of the ones I’d had in studio apartments. In the other far corner was a curtained off area. I had no idea what was hidden behind it, but just to the left of it was what I assumed was a closet since it had double doors. Beside that was a large bed.
I finished appraising the small studio apartment, my eyebrows rising. “Is this your home?”
“No. It’s a base.”
I cocked my head. “Like a man cave?”
His lips twitched. “Something like that.”
“Honestly, I’m surprised that you brought me here. What if I told your enemies where they could find you?” I waggled my eyebrows.
But despite my teasing tone, his expression went blank, all openness disappearing from his features. I immediately missed the way he’d been only a second before.
“Would you tell them?” he asked, his gaze unwavering.
“No,” I replied immediately, and I meant it.
An amused glint in his eyes broke through his stony exterior. “I know. If you had considered telling anyone, the wards wouldn’t have let you in.”
My eyes bulged that he’d been messing with me. I snickered. “Ha ha, very funny. So, if they hadn’t let me in, what would have happened? I’d have walked into a brick wall, while you disappeared through it?”
“No. The walls would have trapped you within them, holding onto you until you died from asphyxiation. It would have been a slow and painful death.”
Pulses of fire stoked in his irises, and I laughed nervously. While I liked to think that he was kidding, a part of me wondered if he was. He’d killed three half-demons less than a few hours ago and didn’t seem to feel even slightly guilty about it. So yeah, I didn’t put it past him to place deadly wards on his man cave.
“And you know this because that’s happened to others you’ve brought in here?”
He grunted. “No. I don’t bring people here. The only reason you’re here is to keep you out of trouble while I finish what I was doing.”
“Oh.” A strange rush of pleasure surged through me. So he didn’t allow others into his base, but he’d let me inside.
But then I internally smacked myself. Tala, the dude was hired to find your sister and nothing more. He doesn’t actually give two shits about you.
The Fire Wolf gestured toward his leather couch that looked big enough to comfortably seat three linebackers. “This’ll take a few minutes. You can stand where you are or sit on the couch, but don’t interrupt me.”
Before I could reply, he strode toward the curtained-off area in the corner and disappeared behind the thick drape.
Chapter 10
I sat on the couch, continually eyeing the curtain the Fire Wolf had disappeared behind. He’d lit candles, I knew that much, since I could scent their subtle vanilla fragrance and their slight glow outlined his frame through the curtain. But beyond that, I couldn’t see anything. My curiosity grew. What is he doing back there?
His arm moved, the muscled appendage rising like a ghostly silhouette. A blade-like shape appeared in his hand, and then with a long stroking movement in the air, he slashed down on his other arm.
My breath sucked in.
A low chanting hum reached my ears, then a rattle of something scattered across the floor before the sharp tang of blood hit my senses. That was when it struck me—he was scrying.
He possesses enough sorcerer magic to do that? While I had psychic ability to see glimpses into the past and occasionally the future—something rare among witches as that power was usually commanded by psychics only—I wasn’t a seer. I couldn’t have found my sister even if I’d used ancient spells and blood rites. That ability was reserved for the select few, the special ones among the psychic and sorcerer species.
So he’s a werewolf, and he possesses enough sorcerer magic to scry. Huh . . .
My curiosity again was piqued. I’d never heard of any male werewolf being able to do any of that.
A buzz came from my purse, startling me, and I realized it was my phone. Gods, I hadn’t even inspected my purse strap yet to see what damage Hoodie Guy had inflicted on it.
A glimpse at the torn leather told me the strap would hold for the time being, but I’d have to divest a complicated tactile spell to fix it completely.
Thanks, douchebag.
I pulled my phone out to check the text. My eyes widened when I saw who it was from.
Missed seeing you last night. Hoping to catch up with you whenever you get time.
Gods. Carlos. I’d completely forgotten about him. And what time was it? Surely he’d still be asleep.
But my phone revealed that it was already five in Portland, which meant it was seven in the morning in Chicago. The night was gone, and I hadn’t slept a wink.
I darted another look at the Fire Wolf’s silhouette through the curtain. His arm was down now and he was kneeling on the floor. More rattling came when he appeared to scatter something in front of him. Bones maybe?
I didn’t know much about sorcerer scrying. Like psychic seers, sorcerers that were powerful enough to scry kept their tricks hidden like priceless gems. Perhaps that was the reason the Fire Wolf had wanted to come back here to scry—to keep his secrets safe—and that was why he was hiding behind a curtain while chanting so low it was barely audible. He didn’t want me to see or hear him, but then I remembered the personal items he’d taken from Tessa’s room. Had he taken those so he could scry?
In my limited experience with psychic seers, they’d asked for a person’s belongings or clothing before attempting to find them. Perhaps the Fire Wolf needed those kinds of items too.
Sinking back onto the sofa, I tried to relax and let the soft brown leather cocoon me. Might as well reply to Carlos. At least that would keep my mind off Tess.
I waited for the butterflies to start in my stomach. That’d always happened before when Carlos and I had been together. But my nerves stayed quiet as I tapped in a response.
Sorry about not replying. Things have been a little crazy.
I nibbled my lip and then added to my text before sending it:
How long are you in Chicago?
I didn’t expect his reply right away, so when my phone buzzed, I jumped.
Indefinitely. I’ve moved back. Do you want to catch up tonight?
I stared down at his invitation, my eyes widening. Carlos had not only returned to Chicago and was contacting me, but he’d done so twice in twenty-four hours. And now he was inviting me out . . . again.
So what did that mean? Did he want us to pick up where we’d left off? But how could he think that when things had fizzled out between us? Surely, if we were meant for each other, that wouldn’t have happened.