We drove in strained silence as we headed north, each of us brooding.
The moon calling ritual was something alphas could do, though it only worked when the moon was at its peak. And it was best to have a spirit guide. Like scrying, it could be dangerous to meddle with the moon mother’s magic.
I would howl—not a normal howl, but a soul-empowered cry that would travel through the moonlight and summon Sam to me. If she couldn’t come, then my spirit would be transported to her, and I’d be able to track her down. That was what I was counting on.
But spirit travel had its risks.
Perhaps cunningly, the sorcerer and his minions had never abducted a wolf we could have tracked. That might mean that the sorcerer knew about the moon rituals—or his werewolf minions had warned him. In that light, taking Sam had been a mistake, and I would make them pay, one way or another.
I glanced at Savannah. “To do the ritual, I’d need to go down to the shore on pack land. It’s only a few miles from the inn, but it means that I’d be gone for an hour, hour and a half.”
She frowned, but I could sense her unease. “You worried?”
“No.” I was glad she couldn’t smell lies, though she had a nose for them, all the same.
“Just take me with you.”
Like hell. “It’s taboo.”
“Like scrying?” she asked snidely.
“One I can’t break.”
I didn’t want to leave Savannah at the hotel, but I didn’t have a choice. Some things were sacred.
The Eastern Wisconsin pack wouldn’t let anyone suspicious onto their land, and Billy was heading up with reinforcements. He might hate her family, but he would protect her, especially if the moon ritual didn’t work. Then she’d be our best chance of tracking down Sam.
I just needed an hour and a half. It seemed like so little, but my gut told me we were almost out of time.
Twenty silent minutes later, we entered the nearby town. Its population wasn’t more than five thousand, and its main drag consisted of a handful of restaurants and shops catering to out-of-towners passing through. We passed a pasty shop, and Savannah’s stomach rumbled. She was always hungry. I glanced at the dashboard. In her defense, it was almost eight, and she hadn’t eaten anything substantial all day, which only added to my irritation.
I wasn’t used to looking after someone. Something also told me that Savannah wasn’t the type of woman who liked being looked after. But still, she deserved better.
“I’ll pick up dinner after I drop you at the motel,” I offered.
She nodded but said nothing.
A few miles out of the town center, a bird-shit-blue single-story motel appeared beside the road—the Sunrise Inn. The motel was set against the woods and looked like it had been built in the seventies but recently remodeled. I pulled into the lot and parked beside Cara’s Jeep.
Savannah grabbed her backpack and a bag of chips from the back seat as Cara stepped out of the motel. She was the youngest of our Wisconsin team, which meant she’d gotten stuck with coordinating logistics.
“Any news from the hospital?” I asked.
She shook her head, swinging her short, dark hair. “No progress. He’s still in a coma but stable. The doctor says it might be a couple days before he comes around.”
I tightened my fists, my claws itching to come out. Not that I expected him to remember much. The tortured mind was a fragile thing.
Savannah looked at me. “I guess it’s up to us, then. Me first.”
My stomach twisted. We were taught that scrying was dark magic with an unknown cost. I recalled her bloody nose…but what choice did we have? “Are you sure?”
Savannah nodded. “Let’s do it now, before I pass out from exhaustion and hunger.”
She was strong and brave, and willing to risk her life for others. No traits were more admirable in a wolf, let alone a human.
Cara passed us our keys, and I led Savannah to my room.
A smile quirked up on her lips. “A dangerous man is escorting me to his hotel and asking me to drink a strange brew. How should I be feeling about this?”