Page 66 of Touched

Absolutely not.

“Sorry, you’re breaking up.” I hurriedly reply and quickly disconnect the call.

Un-fucking-believable.

They think I’m working with the Trahans.

Someone’s got to take the blame for the goods disappearing and since it was my intel…

Fuck!

They want to pin this on me.

Stomping back into the cabin, I throw my cell onto the small, worn sofa. After all the time I’ve been with the department, I can’tbelievethey think I staged a takedown so the bad guys could get away.

The bad guys.

Ha. They’re fucking supernatural creatures! Gifted is what Aeris called them.

They have no idea how bad the bad guys actually are.

Sure, we have one of the highest murder rates in the country, but what if they aren’t all at the hands of humans?

The Rougarou are not just Gifted creatures, but actual monsters. Some real life big, bad wolf shit. Those huge, black, red-rimmed eyes will haunt me forever.

How many are there?

Is it even possible to take them all out?

My phone buzzes again and I look over. I need time to understand what I’m dealing with before I can try to explain any of this to Lieutenant Antoine.

I trust him. Yet, I cannot tell him about any of this.

Shit!

If I can’t tell him, how the hell am I going to tell the rest of the team?

They don’t know I’m out here in the Preserve. Even if they did, they wouldn’t come for me.

The Preserve only ever sees humans this far in when the few crazy documentarians get brave enough, or desperate enough, to try to come film the wildlife and habitat out here.

Ignoring the phone as it continues buzzing,How?, I glance over at the worn book Grams entrusted to me. Trevor wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the info I need. It’s essential that I understand why Aeris was so worried about her family.

I can’t protect them if I’m not educated.

Fucking research…

I grab the twine-bound book and plop down on the sofa next to my now silent phone. Once I’m sitting and no longer pacing, I hear all the creatures outside… frogs croaking, crickets singing, and screech owls hooting. It’s daytime, but the trees are so close together out here, that it’s all in shadow, creating the façade of twilight. The sounds of the city are loud and never-ending. I’d forgotten how peaceful it is out here in the Preserve.

Flipping through the pages of the book, I find an entry about the War of the Zephyrs:

The protectors were summoned to the Fae Elders. They obliged without question, as was their duty. Upon arriving, they found an inquisition was underway. They were met with anger and accusations. Without warning, a member of the Sylph Council was apprehended. As confusion and pleas erupted from the Sylph, the Fae Elders raised their hands as their eyes glowed. Winds whipped, and the earth cracked as roots burst from the ground and wrapped around him.

The Sylph ran to him, tearing at the branches and shouting, using their affinities to futilely attempt to free him, begging the Fae to stop. More roots came up, tightening around the Sylph Council member; the Sylph brethren, unable to combat the combined power of the Elders, watched in horror. Their screams were drowned by the wind, as their brethren was crushed by the earth before their eyes. The winds became stronger, fire encircling them, annihilating the screams of the Sylph as their brute strength kept them from advancing toward the Fae.

Unable to reach the Fae, through the force of the otherworldly elements, they had no choice but to flee.

Staring down at the words in horror, my heart pounds in my chest. The scream of a bobcat just outside rips my eyes from the pages.

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