Maddox

Langston and I crept through the brush, having parked over a mile away and hidden the car to remain unseen. We were confident we had found Warwick's hideout and hoped to find enough vampires to justify an attack. Their scent was pervasive.

I kept my eyes moving, trying to map our route. We'd arrived before sunrise, hoping to catch them off guard. If this was the right place, we needed as much information as possible—details about the surrounding area were as crucial as the hideout itself.

Langston motioned for me to slow down as he listened. He apparently heard nothing alarming, as we continued our crawl after a brief pause. Our pace was excruciatingly slow; sunrise was imminent.

As we drew closer, the scent of vampire intensified. Even if this wasn't Warwick's hideout, it was certainly some kind of camp.

We were nearing the suspected location when the trees began to thin. We slowed to a crawl, ensuring we remained unseen.

The forest ended abruptly, giving way to a meticulously manicured lawn. We stopped, hiding in the foliage to observe.

Warwick certainly had discerning taste. The lawn was immaculate, and a small, Southern-style plantation house sat in its midst. From our vantage point, the house appeared to abut the treeline, with the lawn surrounding it on three sides.

It was a two-story building, half stone and half white siding. Two sturdy columns supported the second-story balcony. Curtains were drawn across every window, offering few glimpses inside.

The lawn extended far in front of the house, forming a perfect rectangle. To our left, we saw the less-than-appealing facade of what appeared to be barracks. Opposite the house, a narrow gravel road, wide enough for only one car, disappeared into the trees.

I exchanged a look with Langston, who was also assessing the scene. This resembled the area where we'd attacked Warwick before. He nodded, and I knew his thoughts: we needed to get closer and confirm Warwick's presence.

However, he might not be here; our information could be wrong, and we might be intruding on another sire's territory. Offending another clan could end disastrously.

I pulled out my phone to text Langston about checking both the house and the barracks, but the signal was unavailable. They were likely jamming the area, creating a dead zone—a telltale sign if you knew what to look for.

I motioned to Langston, suggesting we split up. He seemed to understand. I pointed to myself, then to the house, then to him and the barracks.

While more vampires might be in the barracks, we didn't need to enter. We just needed a general idea to report back to Alpha.

However, one of us would likely have to enter the main house to confirm Warwick's presence. That seemed the more dangerous task, and after our last encounter, I lacked confidence in Langston's ability against an older opponent. Vampires gain strength with age, while we lose it. We were evenly matched, but I likely possessed greater resilience. My taking the greater risk maximized our chances of both escaping.

Langston seemed hesitant. I met his gaze, conveying my confidence. He finally nodded slightly. I started to move towards the rear of the house when he grabbed my arms.

"We made it this far," he said almost inaudibly. "You better make it home to Missy." I nodded, and he released me. I would do anything to return to my mate.

I crept slowly through the trees bordering the overly perfect lawn, watching the house for any sign of movement. It was futile; the windows were impossible to see into. The stillness was almost unnerving.

After painstakingly slow progress, I reached the rear of the house and found a back door leading inside and another set appearing to lead to a cellar. I only needed confirmation of Warwick's presence, and I wasn't sure I'd find that in the basement.

I held my breath, scanning the area. It felt odd that we'd found no one so far. It was incongruous, but then, we were out of place. The quicker we confirmed Warwick's presence, the quicker we could leave. The longer we stayed, the stronger our scent became.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped from the trees and hurried towards the door. After about 30 yards of lawn, two steps led to a small concrete landing before the door. I flattened myself against the stone wall, listening intently.

I couldn't hear anything distinct, so I cautiously turned the knob. There was no resistance. I opened the door slowly; it creaked. My shoulders tensed at the sound. I waited for a reaction, but nothing happened.

I exhaled slowly. Get in, confirm, get out. Then I could get home to Missy. I steeled myself and pushed the door open enough to slip inside.

I entered a spacious kitchen with a hearth containing glowing red embers. I backed into a corner, crouching between the wall and a baker's rack. A woman entered from an interior doorway, going straight to the sink as if to fill a pot.

"You should leave, wolf," a voice said in my head. I nearly jumped. "I can smell you. Master Warwick will soon as well. Please, don't risk your life further."

The woman continued her task without pausing. Was she speaking to me? "Yes, I can communicate telepathically. And I'm too old for this nonsense. Please go quickly and never return."

I swallowed. My gut told me I could trust her. Tom—who usually favors ripping vampire throats out—seemed to agree we should leave.

As silently as possible, I opened the door and slipped outside, not bothering to close it. I ran to the trees, moving upright once I was safely concealed.

I moved as swiftly as possible towards the building Langston was checking. If the woman was telling the truth, we were running out of time. I paused, searching for Langston.

"Come on, come on," I silently urged.

Azalea

Felix had arranged for a witch to arrive the following day. I spent the morning anxiously awaiting her arrival. When the time came, Felix and I went downstairs to wait.

A small, older car approached the packhouse driveway. The driver stopped, aggressively slamming the door before approaching. She was a few inches taller than me, with large, expressive brown eyes. Her bushy brown hair fell just below her shoulders, framing her face. She wore dark, but unremarkable clothing.

Felix cleared his throat. "Luna, this is Willow. Willow, this is Azalea Blackfur, Luna of Blood Eclipse," he introduced us. A look passed between Felix and Willow before she turned to me, extending her hand.

"Nice to meet you," she said, her voice high-pitched and melodious.

"Thank you so much for coming on such short notice," I said.

"When old friends call…" she trailed off, looking at Felix again. He shifted uncomfortably. I wanted to ask him about her, but I couldn't link him, so I'd have to wait.

"Should we, uh, go to my office then?" I asked nervously. Willow smiled weakly and nodded. I led the way.

Upstairs, I offered her a seat. Felix hovered in the doorway, seeming uncertain about joining us. "Felix, would you mind closing the door? I'm sure Willow would appreciate some privacy." He nodded, a flicker of insecurity in his eyes.

He closed the door, leaving us alone. His trust in her implied I could trust her, too.

"So, Willow, did Felix mention why I need help?" I asked.

"Hold on," she said, standing and waving her hands, muttering under her breath. "Okay, we can speak candidly now. Anyone listening will hear only gibberish."

"Oh," I said, surprised.

"You seem smarter than that," she said. "He sent me a picture of the watch. The incantation is inscribed on the back."

"Oh, uh…" I felt foolish for not noticing.

"The instructions were clear: wear the watch, say the word, make yourself equal. So, why am I really here?" she asked plainly.

I narrowed my eyes. I wasn't sure if I liked her or should be suspicious. I decided to proceed cautiously.

"Why did you come if you knew I had an ulterior motive?" I asked. She raised an eyebrow. "Humor me."

She leaned back, resting an arm on the chair. "There are rumors about this little war between you canines and ticks. Plus, the Luna with healing powers. You're also quite interesting."

I raised an eyebrow, ignoring the canine jab. "I am?" I asked. We hadn't publicized my ability, but we hadn't hidden it either.

"Mmmhmm," she hummed.

"So, are you involved in our little war?" I asked.

"No," she said. "I have no place in that mess. There are rumors about other witches getting involved, but I doubt it's many."

I nodded. "Okay. Well, I need help."

"Clearly."

"I need to speak to someone, but meeting in person would be problematic," I explained.

"So, you need a witch for your half of a projection spell," she concluded.

"Yes," I said. She watched me thoughtfully. "This is time-sensitive, so…" I paused.

"I think I understand why he's so loyal to you," she observed.

"Felix?" I asked.

"You aren't afraid of anything, are you? You want to speak to your enemy—it's dangerous. You know nothing about magic or my kind, yet you allowed yourself to be alone in this room with me, and you allowed the silencing spell. I respect your bravery, even if it's foolish," she said.

"I have nothing to fear. Yes, I want to speak to our enemy, but I'm doing it this way because of my mate's lack of understanding. I don't fear ending this conflict without more fighting, and I trust Felix not to bring someone malicious," I said.

She smiled smugly. "You aren't as fragile as you look. Okay, I'll do it. But it needs to be now. I'm not coming back."

I was relieved but kept my expression neutral. "Thank you. I'll contact them now," I said, texting Warwick, hoping for an immediate response.

"I'll get this ready," she said, taking a candle from her bag and clearing a space in the middle of my office.

My phone buzzed with a message from Warwick. "He says his witch will begin in ten minutes," I told her.

She nodded, settling cross-legged on the floor. I watched her concentrate and prepare. The minutes crawled by.

Two minutes before the appointed time, Willow looked up. "Sure about this?" she asked. I nodded. "You know what you're getting into?"

"I need this conversation. Either help me or leave my packhouse," I said seriously. She smirked.

"Alright, here we go then," she said.