Twenty-four hours in the forest and no word from Gunner.

In the morning, they made their way to the gas station, where the clerk allowed Sadie to charge her phone by the drip coffee and Jaylin washed the sunscreen from his face in the bathroom sink. He purchased a cheap razer and used soap from the dispenser to shave away the scruff that had built on his jaw. Then they lingered in the AC of the store, eating raspberry donuts and frozen burritos and drinking drip coffee.

The processed food didn't set well in Jaylin, and neither one of them were prepared for how sick the food haul made him. Any source of nutrition had been expulsed on the way back to camp. After all the vomiting finally came to an end, Sadie forced him to rest in the tent, tucking a rolled up sweater beneath his head as a pillow.

This obviously wasn't going to work. Jaylin needed to eat. There had to be something around—maybe a fruit tree or rabbit den. Sadie couldn't stand the thought of killing an innocent animal, but maybe she could find something freshly dead to cook over a flame. She powered up a pedometer on her phone to find her way back to camp and disappeared into the depths of the forest.

It was thirty minutes before she returned, and when she found Jaylin again, he had crawled out from his tent and curled up on the dirt floor, mumbling about stomach cramps. Sadie touched his forehead and the heat on him could have fried an egg.

She helped him up to his feet and lifted the shirt from his back. "Come on, Jay. You gotta get this stuff out of your system." He looked pale and groggy, disengaged from himself. His eyes moved in shivers and his breath heaved like he'd been running laps. She hadn't seen anyone look so sick since... well, since Quentin.

She helped him out of his clothes, leaving him in only his boxers. Sweat beaded on his skin and she could feel the fever radiating off of him. Sadie tugged him along through the trees until deep nature-made trenches filled with swampy water. Further along, they expanded to thick watercourses, and what once was a small, winding creek became a lake, large and round and hemmed with long, overhung stone.

Jaylin stood there, knee-deep in the cool water. The light of the summer sun beamed through the trees and bounced from the rounds of his shoulders. For a long time Jaylin stood there. Sadie wasn't sure what it was he was doing—some kind of meditation, it looked like.

Then it happened. One fast shred of his skin and the lichund burst free, dove into the lake with a deep ripple that scattered from one brink to another, disturbing the water and wetting the shingles on the muddy shoreline. Sadie sat on the stony edge and watched for an hour as that big black beast waded through the shallow lake, only his horns poking up above the surface. He'd move slowly sometimes, like a gator—and other times, he'd lash his body so suddenly, it startled her. It was only a moment before he caught his first fish, then he'd trot out of the lake with his trophy in his jaws and lay in the dirt as he ate it raw.

After twelve fish, the beast dove back into the water. Beneath the surface, a deep red plume imploded into a cloud of dark, murky brown. Several away from the dark ink, Jaylin popped up for air with a grin that settled the worry in Sadie.

While Jaylin dried in the sparse sunlight, seeping through the tall forest trees, Sadie laid her stone sword out in hopes that she could find that face again. Whether it was Caliah or Cadence, Sadie didn't care. She wanted to know the importance of the sword. Why it fell into her hands. She wanted to see that face a second time, but the woman in the stone never appeared.

That night, they lit a fire with a BIC lighter Sadie had purchased at the gas station. Jaylin roasted a fish he'd speared at the lake, and Sadie feasted on bags of trail mix and jerky. Then they crawled into the tent. Jaylin fell asleep on her lap while Sadie browsed through her phone for just a chance of Ziya's name. She had to have a life outside of werewolves; all of the money that funded her sick experiments had to of come from something, but the further Sadie searched, the less she found. Not a personal social media account, not a mention in the news.

Then, suddenly, Jaylin shot up from his sleep.

"Do you hear that?" he asked.

"Hear what?"

"Turn your screen off. Be quiet."

So Sadie laid her phone aside and watched in silence as Jaylin crept to the front of the tent.

Then she heard it. The soft rumble of an engine. The closer the sound became, the more certain she was that it wasn't the groan of one vehicle, but the synchronized roar of several.

Jaylin shoved himself from the tent just as the engines neared the camp. All Sadie could see as she crawled out was a blinding beam of headlights. Several of them, pins and needles behind the eyes. When her sight finally settled, she could make out the shapes of motorcycles, the faint outline of bodies atop them. A shape stepped off from the back of foremost bike, a large round helmet on their head, mirroring the flakes of moonlight that sprinkled through the trees above. The shape approached, and Sadie took shelter behind Jaylin, watching the strangers from over his shoulder.

The rider cupped the helmet from both sides, lifted it from her head, and a spill of messy black hair came cascading down her shoulders.

Sadie knew that scowl like the back of her hand.

"Okay," growled Tisper, "who's ass do I have to kick?"

Sadie said nothing, but slumped a little further behind Jaylin.

Tisper stomped closer, flicking her wild hair from her face. "Tell me right now. Who's dumbass decision was this?"

Sadie should have had more honor than she did, but when it came to Tisper's wrath, it was every man for himself. She stepped back toward the tent, pointing a shameless finger toward Jaylin. Tisper sent her helmet flying at his face and he cowered as it bounced from his parried arms.

"Jaylin Maxwell, you listen to me right now," she roared, reaching out to shake him by the collar of his sweater. "I brought you into this world and I'll take you out if I have to!"

This was it. The point of no return. Tisper's anger had swelled so much, she wasn't making sense anymore. They'd finally put a crack in her.

"You... what?" asked Jaylin, shrinking into his hoodie.

Tisper gave him another shake. "It doesn't matter! I swear to god, I could dig you a grave right now if I weren't so relieved you were okay."

Sadie knew it would be a good few moments of breath before Tisper made sense again, so she reached between them and carefully detached her claws from Jaylins sweater. "How did you guys find us?"

"Gunner." He powered off the bike and finally, Sadie could see Felix behind the reigns of the first motorcycle. Behind him, Nicon and Alex shared a bike, while Matt and Bailey drove their own. "Ringed up Quen's phone," Felix explained. "Told us where ye'd be."

"There's no time to chat," Nicon said. "Get on a bike. They know you're here."

"They?" asked Sadie. "Ziya's wolves? But we haven't seen any."

A fifth bike roved forward, stalling just beside the others. "If Bailey could track his scent, it won't be long before they're on your trail," said Izzy, tucking back the hair that had fallen out of her braid.

Elizaveta sat just behind her, chin tucked over Izzy's shoulder. "Nicon is right," she said, a sudden breeze flipping her short hair over the edge of her sharp red lips. "Ve Should go. Quickly."

Tisper snatched her helmet up from the ground and pulled it on over her head, long legs carrying her back in the direction of the bikes. "Sadie," she said, muffled beneath her helmet, "you ride with Bailey." Then she swung herself over the backseat, looking a little too pleased to snake her arms around Felix's middle.

Sadie spotted Bailey just behind them and her throat went dry. Of all people, sje was to ride on a dangerous bike with the one she trusted least. "Where are we going?"

"To find Ziya," declared Nicon with a grin too white for this world. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

The look on Jaylin's face was like a sudden breath of air. The first sprinkle of hope after a long drought. He made off for Matt's bike without a flash of hesitation. Sadie hurried to the tent to gather her bag, then she was left to straddle herself awkwardly onto the seat behind Bailey. He said nothing to her, but passed her a helmet that hardly fit her head.

"None of you are wearing one," she said. Only three helmets existed among them—one for Matt, one for Tisper and one for herself. "What if we crash?"

"We'll live," Bailey grumbled. "You, not so much." Then he started up the engine and kicked in the stand.

The bikes sputtered forward in a herd and Sadie tossed her arms around Bailey and held on for dear life as he took the lead, zooming between trees so quickly she could hear them pass in a whip.

"Why are we driving in the forest?" Sadie shouted over the roar of the engine. "Is she close?"

"Close enough," Bailey replied.

"Can you smell her?"

But Bailey didn't respond a second time. He was far too busy finding all of the perfect gaps in the trees to whip through at highway speeds.

These couldn't be normal motorcycles, the way they zoomed so easily over the rough, inclining forest. They didn't look much like mountain bikes either—no sporty body or bright decals on the metal. But the way they moved sent Sadie's heart into her throat. That wave of motion sickness curdled her stomach and for what felt like an hour, she buried herself into the large of Bailey's back, too fearful of their speed to watch the trees pass by any longer. It had to of been midnight by the time they stopped at the edge of a bluff. The stars plastered the sky, not a hint of civilization around to spoil them.

Down below, a lake mirrored every constellation above, moonlight rippling off of the flat, static waters. The forest around was too dense for log cabins or camping grounds, but in the distance, at the far end of the lake, six broad windows echoed the shimmer of the water.

From first glance, it looked like a boathouse. But the further Sadie eyed the structure, the less sense it made. It existed beside such a fine body of water, but with no purpose. No place to dock a boat, no veranda overlooking the lake. Just a tower of glistening windows with dense curtains cutting out all light from inside. When she squinted, she could see different colors of metal glinting through the gaps in the trees.

"Is that... a parking lot?"

"Ziya has several headquarters spread out through the East," Nicon said. The deep rummm of Bailey's bike powered off and she climbed from the padded seat. Nicon approached beside her, overlooking the lake below. "She owns a pharmaceutical company that specializes in intelligence augmentation. That's what she calls it. Her pills are placebos, but her company generates enough revenue to support her recreational experimentations. And of course, any location of her choosing becomes her temporary residence."

"Aye." Felix approached on the other side of Nicon, clamping a hand down on his shoulder. "So this is it. The gates'a hell."

Tisper rubbed her backside as she approached the edge of the bluff with the others. "We're supposed to get in there? How?"

That was when Sadie noticed the riot of her cell phone, rumbling around in her bag. She didn't have time to speculate the number on the screen. The first three digits matched Marcy's—which meant it could only be one person. She hit answer and a hard breath pulsed through the speakers. Distant sirens wailed.

"You've breached Ziya's radius," a voice gruffed, low and quiet and a bit out of breath. "Let me talk to the lich."

"He's right here," she said, flicking the speaker button. Jaylin still stunk of blood, she could smell it as he brushed up on her left shoulder.

"I need to know, right now, kid," Gunner rasped. "Are you willing to risk your life over this?"

Sadie watched the words register in Jaylin. Fear filled his face, but not a dash of uncertainty crossed those cerulean eyes.

"If not, turn around now," Gunner said. "But if this is what you want—if you're sure about this, kid. Then stay exactly where you are. Because they're coming."

Jaylin's spine straightened. His head snapped to his left, something instinctual in the way he watched the trees move with the wind. He snatched the phone, ended the call, and shoved the phone into Sadie's purse. Then Jaylin reeled her back by the wrist.

"Go," he said, shoving her towards Tisper. "Matt, you too. All of you go. Hide, now."

Fear lumped in Sadie's throat. "But we—"

"Now," Jaylin said again, eyes dragged back toward the shimmer of the lake. "Go. Now." And it was almost like the lich had spoken to her then. A beast with a voice so deep, it scraped the flames of hell. She trusted Jaylin, but for some reason, Sadie trusted the lich even more.

Not the lich. The Warden.

Sadie took Tisper in one hand and reached for Matt with the other. Then she ran for the trees.