Kat and I eagerly leaned in, wanting to hear more.
“Things come to her at random, but don’t press her too hard. Simple, straightforward questions only. She gets overwhelmed easily, and it takes hours to calm her down.” Louis frowned, watching Lara tiptoe into the kitchen with smooth, silent movements. “And don’t say Billford senior’s name. It triggers something in her-a vision, or maybe a memory. All I know is, it’s horrible enough to make her harm herself. So, speaking his name around her is forbidden.”
“Are you okay with us asking her questions?” I asked, a bit surprised despite the boundaries Louis had set.
Louis’s love and devotion to her sister were palpable. Lara had been through so much during those ten years, much of which she couldn’t speak about, and Louis was determined to make up for every second. This was why she let Lara paint the walls, channeling her emotions into the oils and acrylics, focusing her fear through the bristles of the paintbrush.
“I trust you won’t cause her unnecessary trauma,” Louis said firmly but kindly. Her seafoam eyes flickered to Lara, who stood in the kitchen, her eyes glazing over again. Within seconds, the vision ended, and Lara resumed her humming. “I can’t imagine what she’s seen, but any information she gives could provide us with an upper hand.”
I never cared much for tea before, but Lara’s tea was a revelation-sweet, floral, with a fruity undertone and none of the bitterness I’d experienced as a server. Even the lemon juice, which turned the tea purple, was steeped in sweetness.
We sat out back on a screened-in patio, furnished with padded chairs with hand-painted cushions around a large glass table decorated with thin vines and wispy pink flowers. A few dried-up cups of paint sat toward the edge. Outside, a grill was covered in multicolored handprints.
“It’s nice to meet you, Lara. Your artwork is incredible,” I said kindly as she took a seat.
Ethan carried in a tray of small teacups, sugar cubes, and other glass bottles from the kitchen, flashing me a wink before sitting down. I knew little about tea, but this seemed far more complex than the simple sugar and water mixture from the restaurant.
“We’ve already met, Sophia . Don’t you remember?” she asked softly, her pale blue eyes filled with dreams and nightmares. Her thin lips drooped as she read my confusion. “Oh, has that not happened yet? Or-is it happening now? I apologize, I get so confused at times.”
“Don’t apologize, my abilities can complicate things too,” I said with a genuine smile. I felt her relax, marveling at the strange rush of her emotions, as fragmented as her visions. “This is the first time any of us are meeting you.”
“Ah, this is the first time, then!” She beamed, her golden hair slipping from its clip. She looked so proud and joyful that I couldn’t dampen her spirit. She added a few sugar cubes and a splash of cream to her tea before continuing. “Good, that’s very good. That means you still have one, two-three days left.”
Louis stilled, shock flickering through her emotions. Lara had never mentioned this deadline before.
“Lara, what’s happening in three days?” Louis asked softly, squeezing her sister’s hand.
“The Executioner and her Tracker will come. Then Havoc will follow,” she murmured, pulling her hand away and looking down. As quickly as the fog lifted from her eyes, she smiled brightly again. “Anymore tea?”
“We need connections to someone who was in-Zack’s father’s pack,” I said, catching myself before saying his name. “There must be a way to find out who this executioner and her tracker are.”
Lara hummed in the backyard, painting the pavement patio. I didn’t risk saying his name.
“Is there anyone else in town from his pack who might know what Lara is talking about?” Kieran asked, his deep voice sounding a bit aggressive. He cleared his throat, smirking down at me, sensing my thoughts about him being a monster. “Anyone we wouldn’t harm by asking?”
Louis and Peter exchanged glances, their thoughts merging. After a minute, they returned to awareness.
“There might be a few we could ask, but there’s always a chance they won’t respond well,” Peter frowned.
“They chose to join our pack when they stayed,” Louis said softly, placing a hand on his. He sighed, his golden hair falling across his forehead. “We can ask this of them.”
I hadn’t noticed before, but this quaint town was full of warriors stationed in the surrounding mountains and forest. It was hard to scent them initially, as the winds and dense forest dispersed scents. Those not protecting the town were guarding the house where Louis and we stayed.
Peter left to make phone calls to the houses holding former members of Maverick’s pack. Couples and families were placed in large cabins and homes together. Louis explained that things were comfortable here; some even found their mates in the process.
Peter returned nearly an hour later, his eyebrows knitted together. I wondered if he had found anyone to talk to. His emotions surprised me-worry fractured his foundation, spreading until it split into larger splinters, burying themselves in my mind and chest.
“You found out who they are,” I said, feeling my heartbeat increase with his.
“Darling, what did you find out?” Louis asked, placing her hands on his face.
“It’s just rumors, stories told to frighten them into submission,” Peter replied, his voice stronger. With a smile of gentle affection, he removed Louis’s hands and kissed them. Once they no longer touched, worry crept back into his eyes. “Three people gave me some insight, though the details vary. The executioner is a white wolf with the ability to resist abilities. Another said she can steal abilities, but I doubt that. The Tracker is just as bad-she never misses. Once the Tracker has your scent, there’s nowhere on earth to hide. One even said the Tracker could find you at the bottom of the ocean.”
“How wonderfully comforting,” I said, my mouth dry and eyes wide.
“That can’t be real, right?” Kat scoffed, crossing her arms. Her eyes showed concern but also her known fearlessness. “A white wolf who can resist the powers of other white wolves. She’s just a normal wolf, then.”
“Assuming she’s earned her name, the semantics of her abilities come second,” Peter countered, making Kat’s grimace deepen. “Besides, that’s not the most interesting part. When Lara said Havoc will follow, she meant Havoc-a person. The Executioner, the Tracker, and Havoc. They’re who he sends when he needs someone dead halfway across the world.”