just...I came back because I need to talk to her.”
Though human, Michaela possessed the unique ability to psychically “read” others’ emotions, and Cian could only imagine what she was picking up from him at that moment: frustration, fear, guilt, anger, regret and, beneath it all, a seething, never-ending need for something he could never have. She slid Brody a quick glance, then delicately cleared her throat as she looked at Cian and said, “We’re not lying. As much as I hate to say it, she honestly isn’t here.”
So many raw, visceral curses suddenly crowded into his throat, he thought he might choke on them. He swallowed a few times, then finally managed to scrape out a single word. “Why?”
His insides twisted when he noticed the way they glanced at each other again, as if neither of them knew how much to tell him. Or what to tell him.
“After you left,” Michaela finally murmured, taking a careful breath, “there were...well, some things changed.”
“What kind of things? What the hell are you talking about?”
He’d kept up on the pack enough through third parties to know that the Silvercrest had flourished in the past five years, thanks to the hard work of the Runners. They might have still been recovering from their war against the neighboring Whiteclaw pack when he’d left, but it’d been clear even then that they’d become a force too powerful for anyone to mess with. Nothing had happened in these mountains that should have necessitated Sayre leaving. Not unless it was something personal, and the secrets he could see burning in his friends’ eyes were seriously pissing him off.
“Stop worrying about how I’m going to react,” he said, “and just spit it out.”
Michaela sighed. “Cian, Sayre isn’t the same.” At his darkening look, she hurried to explain. “Not long after you took off, Sayre went into a decline and suffered a...breakdown. Not only was she wrecked because of the way you abandoned everyone, but she’d also been dealing with some pretty powerful issues in private. Her powers had been increasing at an abnormal rate, but she didn’t want to worry anyone and tried to hide it as much as she could. But after the war, it eventually got to be too much for her, and she had to get away and be on her own. She hasn’t lived here in over four and a half years.”
Four and a half years? Reeling, he tried to suck in a sharp breath, but his lungs had locked down. He was sealed in a goddamn vise of disbelief, the roaring in his head making him flinch. No. No, damn it. This can’t be happening. He didn’t want to believe, but he could tell by the looks on their faces that they were telling him the truth.
Somehow, he managed to choke out, “Where. Is. She?”
“It’s too much of a strain on her system when she’s around other people, so she lives by herself just over the border, in a cabin in West Virginia.”
His throat was so tight with fear he could barely speak. “And there’s no one there to help her? She’s completely alone?”
Brody jerked his chin up and scowled. “She doesn’t like to be around anyone. Even Jillian and Jeremy. It physically pains her to pick up on others’ physical and emotional energy.”
Cian paced away from them and lowered his head, staring at the tips of his heavy black leather boots. He shoved his hands into his hair, pushing it away from his face as he squeezed his skull, working everything he’d just learned through his head. Christ, all this time he’d thought she was safe, surrounded by her family and friends, when he couldn’t have been more wrong. She was alone, damn it. On her own in the middle of fucking nowhere!
Rage seared its way through his veins in a thick, eviscerating spill, and he lowered his arms and fisted his hands at his sides as he turned back around and took an aggressive step toward Brody. Five years ago, he’d left a single message for his partner that read: Take care of her. But that obviously hadn’t happened.
Locking his furious gaze with Brody’s green one, he snarled, “I trusted you.”
“Yeah, I trusted you, too,” the Runner shot back, curling his upper lip. “But that didn’t stop you from running like a coward, did it?”
Cian struggled to control his temper and calm his harsh breaths, but the darkness inside him was rising, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before he lost the fight against it. Which meant he needed to get the hell out of there. “I need directions to where she is,” he growled. “Now.”
Brody snorted and shook his head, looking at him with disgust. “It’s been five years, Cian. Why the sudden hurry?”
Before he could respond, Michaela reached into the pocket of her long skirt and pulled out a small piece of paper. “You both just need to calm down. This isn’t going to help anyone.” Offering him the paper, she said, “I already wrote the information down for you after you sent Brody that text.”
Her husband shot her a disgruntled look. “What the hell, Mic?”
She slid Brody an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, honey, but she deserves the chance to deal with this on her own.”
Cian didn’t speak as he grabbed the tiny slip of paper from Michaela’s hand. A quick glance showed that she’d written down a brief set of directions along with several names and phone numbers.
“The others will be sorry they missed you,” she told him. “They’ve taken all the kids down to the beach for two weeks in South Carolina. But we chose to stay home because Jack’s still too young for that kind of thing.”
He opened his mouth, a hundred different questions on his tongue. Jack? Kids? Exactly how many did his friends have now? What were their names, ages and genders? His curiosity was strong—but his fear for Sayre’s safety was stronger.
Snapping his mouth shut, Cian turned and headed back to the sleek sports car he’d left parked in the grass. Just as he opened the driver’s-side door, Brody grabbed his shoulder and jerked him around, getting right in his face. “What the hell are you up to, Hennessey?”
“I’m bringing her back where she belongs.”
The three thin scars that slashed across Brody’s tanned face turned white as he grimaced. “She won’t come back with you. We begged her, but she was adamant. You really think you’ll be able to change her mind after leaving like you did?”
“The difference is that I don’t plan on asking, or begging. I’m not giving her a choice,” he ground out, digging the key fob from his pocket. “I’ll tie her up and throw her over my shoulder if I have to, but one way or another, she is coming back to where it’s safe.”
The Runner’s green eyes widened with comprehension. “What aren’t you telling us?” he demanded, tightening the brutal grip he had on his shoulder.
Looking his former partner right in the eye, Cian said, “I don’t have the time to get into this, Brody. But I will explain when I get back.”
“Are we in danger?” he asked in a low voice, showing no signs of backing down.
Cian shook his head, hoping like hell that it wasn’t a lie. But he had no reason to believe that the Runners were targets. If that were the case, something would have happened a long time ago, when Cian had been one of them.
A
