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“Very,” Connor answers. “Our family history is full of stories of her life and the things she did for both the human and lycan culture of the city.” My mind flashes to the tiny girl who insisted I carry her to the ship and always stayed by my side.
“She died well into her nineties,” Connor continues. “Together, they had six healthy and happy children. Your sister was the perfect mate.”
“Sweet Bonnie,” I whisper, hugging the picture closer.
“Stories of your disappearance were passed downthrough generations.” Connor looks down with his words. “I’m sorry for what happened to you.”
“You have a chance to help her, to help us,” Thorne adds. “I was the captain of the ship that brought Bonnie and Elsie to Charleston. The Bonnie I knew was full of spunk and would’ve stopped at nothing to help her sister. She would’ve done anything she could to help Elsbeth escape.”
Connor sighs, sitting back at his desk. “I agree.” He closes his eyes. “How can we help you?”
A collective sigh resonates through the small room. “We have reason to believe that Kragen is still keeping his home base in the Outer Banks of North Carolina.”
“That’s not possible,” Connor argues. “Every inch of those islands has been explored, most of it is uninhabitable. If there were a vampire pirate and a horde of vampires living there, someone would know.”
“Maybe they do?” Francis says. “Until earlier today, I thought my belief in vampires and werewolves were the silly imaginings of an old lady.” She motions around the room. “None of you hide in caves or dark rooms. You live in plain sight. What if they do, too?”
“Are you suggesting we go to North Carolina and search for them?” Connor asks.
“We won’t have to look for them. Kragen will be here, looking for me.” I set the picture down, wiping a tear from my wet face.
“I’ll worry about Charleston. You two,” he points at Thorne and me, “should go to North Carolina.”
“For what reason?” Luna interjects.
“If your theory is right, Kragen will not be there anyway. If he’s been there for three hundred years or more, he will have ties to the community. Find a way to hit him where it hurts.” He motions toward his son. “Take Micah with you. While you’re gone, we’ll prepare for his arrival here.”
FOURTEEN
a trip to the outer banks
Thorne,Micah, and I are ready to leave for North Carolina less than an hour after leaving the bar. It took several conversations with Francis to convince her that she would be more help here, with Connor and Luna, preparing the lycan for Kragen’s eventual arrival in Charleston. She’s still not convinced but finally relents and agrees to stay.
The drive to the airport doesn’t take long. The few items I shoved into my backpack are close to me as Micah drives.
“You own a plane?” Micah asks, for the third time.
“Aye. It belonged to my maker, but I have full access to it at any time.”
As promised, we pull into the airport and head straight to the tarmac and the awaiting private jet. We board, and the doors are up less than ten minutes later.
“We are shooting for a landing in a municipalairport. The powers that be, have requested a landing in Raleigh Durham, but we’re going to ignore their request,” a voice says over the loudspeaker. “With that being said, we should be arriving within the hour.”
We’re barely in the sky before the plane begins to descend. “What’s the plan?” Micah speaks for the first time since boarding.
“I’ve been studying maps since leaving. Other than driving the length of the islands and stopping to ask people along the way, I don’t have one,” Thorne answers. “I don’t know what we’re going to find or if we’ll even find anything.”
“If Kragen has been here for centuries, the humans that know something will be smart enough to keep quiet,” I add.
“It’s going to be a rough landing,” the pilot says over the speaker. “We should be fine but hold on.”
“What the hell?” Micah asks, looking through a small window. “Is this the normal pilot?”
Thorne laughs. “Yeah. He’s good. We’ll be fine.”
Micah checks his seatbelt several times, before pushing back in his seat and closing his eyes. Thorne and I would survive a crash—Micah wouldn’t. The plane touches down and stops like a well-choreographed dance. Micah’s sigh is loud enough to bounce off the walls of the plane.
“Perfect,” the pilot says over the speaker. “I will await your return…if they’ll let me.”
