Page 112

I glanced up at Warrick. “Anything?”

He tilted his head back, sniffing the air again, and started to shake his head, then froze.

“What is it?”

“Blood…death.”

Fuck.

“This way.” He jogged toward a warehouse, and a sick feeling gripped my stomach as I followed. He walked along the side of the building and lifted a hand for me to stop when we reached the back corner. He peered around the side. “The scent’s stronger here. Stay put.”

“No.”

The muscle in his jaw jumped. “It’s gonna be ugly.”

I knew that, but nothing, no one, would stop me from going to him. “Ren’s my family.”

Warrick’s gaze hardened, but he nodded, knowing better than to try to stop me, and we slipped around the side of the building.

The moon was full, shining down and revealing the carnage.

So much blood and death.

Ren had no control over his actions—the spirit and not him had done these things—but he’d been there, he’d witnessed it all. He would have watched his own hands cause this horror. The screams of his victims would forever be in his head.

My Ren would never be the same.

“We’ve got to bring him home,” I whispered.

“You’re not getting anywhere near him. It’s too fucking dangerous,” Warrick said.

I patted my satchel. “I have my salt. He can’t get past it.” I took a length of thin silver chain from my bag. “And this, it’s like the urns we use. Silver binds the spirit, and this has been melted and imbued with a few other things that will make it more effective. Else’s been working on it since the first spirit attacked. She said, if we can wrap it round him, the spirit will be trapped inside Ren. Then we can get him home and I can exorcise it.”

He took the chain from me, but he wasn’t happy about me being here.

“He’s close.” I didn’t know how I knew that, but I felt him, I was sure of it. “If you stay out of sight, he’ll come to me.”

Warrick’s brows lowered. “What are you planning?”

“If I’m right and Ren is somehow getting through, possibly influencing some of the spirit’s actions, maybe without it even knowing, I think he’ll come if he sees or hears me. This is the first chance we’ve had since he was taken. I don’t want to fuck it up, so let’s keep it simple. I’ll stand in the open and call him, distract him, then you rush him and take him down. I want my fox back, and I’m not leaving here without him.”

He hooked one of those massive mitts behind my neck and tilted my head back. “Stay in your fucking circle, you hear me? You risk yourself for any reason, I’ll be fucking pissed off. Nothing is more important than your life.”

I swallowed and stared into those fierce and gorgeous eyes of his. “You’re pretty important to me as well.”

He gave me a squeeze. “Glad to hear it, but I’m harder to kill.”

“True.”

“Just do as you’re fucking told for once and we won’t have a problem.”

“Roger that.”

He grinned, dropped a hard kiss on my lips, and disappeared into the shadows like a freaking ghost.

The quiet closed in, heavy, eerie. Warrick was somewhere watching, but suddenly I felt very much alone. Just me and the evil fuck who was living inside my best friend. I grabbed a bag of salt from my satchel.

“Renny? I know you’re there,” I called. “Why don’t you come and talk to me?” I sliced the bag with my blade and turned in a slow circle, surrounding myself with a thick line of salt and cemetery dirt. Shoving the empty bag in my pocket, I straightened. “I know you’re there. You want to come closer, don’t you?”