I shrug. “Subtle pressure against the sand can lead to even small creases. This thing, or things, left a hell of a lot of pressure, but no creases.”
Emme smiles, pride finding its way into her voice. “You notice everything,” she says. “I guess that’s why you’re the best tracker in the pack.”
And holy fuck, now I’m the one blushing.
I push off the sand and brush off my jeans. “Come on. I can’t make heads or tails of these markings. Let’s head further down and see if we can pick up on something else.”
“Are you…blushing?” Emme asks.
“Fuck no. Wolves don’t fucking blush,” I say. “Just windy is all. Fucking bastard wind. Always shows up when you don’t fucking need it. Fuck.”
I stomp ahead before I realize I’m leaving Emme behind. “You all right?’ I ask, stopping dead in my tracks.
“Yes, just thinking,” she says.
She seems lost in her thoughts, not exactly rushing to catch up. By the time she reaches me, she’s downright frowning. “The masters will eventually go after the other masters; it’s part of their bloodthirsty character traits and what’s kept the vampires wealthy and in power for centuries.”
“They are greedy bastards,” I agree.
“And the head witches are also gunning for each other,” she adds.
“That’s right,” I tell her.
“What about the weres? The other alphas? Will they go after Aric?”
“Em, every were with a clue should fear Aric.” I blow out a breath. “And after all that crap that happened with Celia, most are downright terrified.” My voice lowers when I tell her what I do. “That doesn’t mean another kind of supernatural won’t try to mess with him and what he has.”
As well as try for you and your sisters.
Emme stares hard at the sand, careful to avoid a section of broken shells and rock. She knows where my thoughts are headed. “It would be unwise for the master vampires and head witches to take on Misha and Genevieve, as well as Aric. It’s not just their prowess or skill, they have allies and connections worldwide.”
“Yeah, and those connections keep growing.” My boot crushes a brittle stone, my weight too much for it despite its length and width. “There are rumors going around Genevieve is going to claim the entire west coast as her own. She has Nevada and California, and she’s targeting Oregon and Washington next.”
“There’s already a head witch in that territory,” Emme says carefully.
“I know. Lumina. But she’s all power and no flair from what I hear.” I rub my nose when I catch a trace of something else. “Aric’s hoping Lumina will step down. He doesn’t like her and considers Vieve a good leader and ally. For as much as Aric and Vieve do not always see eye to eye, they have a decent working relationship and he respects her.”
“Do you think he respects Genevieve enough to support her acquisition of the remaining states?”
“No. He won’t go that far. If he did, it would cause a riff with the weres in Oregon and Washington,” I reply. “Aric flat out told Genevieve he won’t back her if it comes down to a duel.”
“A duel? That would be terrible,” Emme says. “Two witches fighting, especially two head witches, is never a good thing.”
“It’ll be one hell of a fight,” I agree with a nod.
“You sound certain there’ll be one,” Emme says.
“That’s because I am. Lumina scheduled one for October 30th. Vieve has given her until the twenty-nineth to back down and surrender before she curses her ass.”
“Lumina is strong, you say,” Emme replies. “Are you sure Genevieve is stronger?”
At my nod she asks, “So why would Lumina challenge her to a duel? She’s not only risking her territory, she’s risking her life.”
I shrug. “If I were Vieve’s rival, hell, or Misha’s, I’d take them out before they grew more powerful than they are. They ain’t gettin’ any weaker.”
“From a warmonger perspective, it does make sense,” Emme begins.
“But?” I ask. I stop when another scent catches my interest.
“But nothing. I suppose I’m just confused. With so many adversaries and supernatural muscle flexing occurring on a regular basis, why would anyone bother with me?”
My attention focuses on the row of rocks lining the edge along the road. “It’s like I said, Emme, the alphas may not be dumb enough to mess with Aric directly, but you’re an indirect way to him.”
Damn. For all I didn’t want to remind her of this, there I go, flapping my gums.
“What are you looking at?” she asks.
“Something that shouldn’t be here,” I reply.
Another trickle of that scent cuts through the air with the next rush of wind. Emme starts for the direction I’m eyeing. I don’t let her.
“Stay put,” I warn.
I jog up to the set of rocks. Most of these boulders have been here forever, with one exception. A large flat stone lays against several tons of larger, rounder boulders. Sure, it’s the same color as the rest, and most would walk past it, thinking it belongs. ’Cept that it doesn’t.
The position is odd. So is the shape compared to the rest. It was dragged from somewhere else and specifically placed here. I’m sure of it.
“Humph,” I say. “It’s a damn door.”
Emme tilts her head. She’s seeing what I’m seeing.
That smell I caught moments before trickles out between the cracks. I pace back and forth. Yeah, there it is, along with a rather pathetic scent of magic.
I step back. The lines I’d expect dragged along the sand aren’t there. It may be a door, but it’s not acting like one. There’s no reasonable way to get inside. I take a chance and climb to the top. The tip of the flat stone isn’t that large. I settle into a sitting position and place my heels on it, pushing hard.
This bastard is a lot heavier than it looks. It doesn’t so much as creak.
I grip the edges and give it a shove. Shit. Unlike
