“Nothing. We followed the trail to the north, but we lost it 8 miles outside of Dunkelstadt. Best guess, she hitchhiked or something, because there’s a small country road going through there. Not many cars pass. Just tourists on their way to those vacation cabins up on the mountain.”
“Have you checked there?” asked Jocelyn.
“Absolutely. No sign of her, and not the slightest trail of her scent. If she really got on a car, it was going the other way, to Stuttgart, which, you know… kinda’ sucks.”
“It’s easy to disappear in a big city,” whispered Max. He was rubbing his beard with slow, deliberate movements. It usually helped him think, but the trick didn’t work this time. His thoughts were a pathetic mess.
“We had to come back,” continued Kevin. “Even Ryan was tired after so many hours of chasing after her. She’s quick, Max. And very calculated. It’s clear she had a lot of time to think about what she was going to do once she got out. She had it all planned out.”
“How do you plan hitchhiking?” asked Jocelyn annoyed. She wasn’t annoyed at him, but at the whole situation in general.
“Not that. It was just a guess. A shot in the dark. She might have lost her trail some other way. So, yeah… maybe she didn’t know exactly how she’d get to the next city, but she didn’t waste any time.”
“Whatever. It doesn’t really matter. Max, what now?” She turned to her brother, waiting for him to say something, to come up with a valid idea, because she personally had nothing. They had been taken by surprise, and most of her annoyance, if not all of it, stemmed from there. Jocelyn couldn’t believe they had been such fools. Avelyn had played all of them, and reduced them to ridiculous puppets in her grand escape plan. She was almost glad it had turned against her and blew up in her face. Almost.
“We keep looking. Kevin, take today off and tell everyone else to go rest. First thing in the morning,
you and Ryan take two Crescents and two Moon Children and go to Stuttgart. Jocelyn, agreed?”
“Yeah, sure.” She was in charge of her pack and she was the one who gave the orders when the Moon Children were involved, but Max’s word did have priority.
“Sniff around, check hotels, see if there are any unusual cases of animal attacks, and stay low. We don’t want this to become public just yet. Maybe we’re lucky to catch her before she does anything stupid and terrible enough to draw the attention of the Council and compromise us.”
“Tomorrow morning might be too late,” said Kevin.
“We’re all too tired to do anything now. Let’s hope she’s also tired. She can’t keep running for days on end. She has to stop somewhere to take a break, and Stuttgart is her best option for the time being.”
“I understand.”
“One more thing, Kev. Choose the best trackers, and tell the rest of the pack to stay put. We need to guard the Schloss.”
“We also have to do something about the four underground exits,” said Jocelyn. “She knows the dungeons like the back of her hand.”
“Do you really think she’d risk coming back?” asked Kevin, disbelief painted on his handsome features. “What for?”
“We don’t know,” answered Max, “but we have to take all precautions.”
Jocelyn sent him a compassionate look. She was leaning with her back pressed against the edge of his desk, arms folded under her breasts. She hated seeing him like this, but she knew they had to protect Avelyn. It was unlikely that Sabine would come back to kill her, because that wasn’t the point in the first place. On the other hand, if she somehow found out Max’s bride was already with child, she might have changed her mind. They had to be ready for anything. These mad brides couldn’t take them by surprise a second time. God, her brother did have the worst luck with women.
“I agree,” she finally said. “We need to make sure Avelyn is safe. I’ll organize my Moon Children to guard the Schloss around the clock. But what do we do with the exits?”
“We could destroy them,” suggested Kevin.
Max and Jocelyn gave him hard, thoughtful looks, weighting his solution.
“I don’t particularly like it,” said Max.
“Our ancestors built those dungeons for a reason,” said Jocelyn. “In case of danger, they are a great way of escape.”
“On the other hand,” argued Kevin, “this is not the Middle Ages anymore. Do we really need them? Yes, they were life savers during sieges, but I don’t see any army marching to our gates anytime soon.”
Max smiled, enjoying his Beta’s elegant sarcasm. He was right, of course.
“Well, brother, he has such a fine point that I could almost smack myself over the head for not thinking about it years ago. Since the peace treaty, they’re a weakness, not an advantage.”
“Yes, but still…” There was something that was holding Max back. He scrutinized his feelings for a few seconds, trying to understand why exactly he didn’t like the idea of having those exits destroyed. Both Kevin and Josie were right, so why couldn’t he give the order? It had something to do with childhood, distant memories he could barely grasp in clear images and coherent scenes. There was something there, at the back of his mind. When the memory shined brighter, it tugged at his heart. The faintest smell of may lilies invaded his nostrils. The sunlight reflecting in a delicate chain of rainbow moonstones dangling from a thin wrist.
“We can’t have werewolves guarding them.” Jocelyn’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “It would be a waste of energy and manpower.”