“We both know she's not going to make it,” she whispers.
My jaw drops open.
“Quit speaking about her like she has a terminal illness!” I growl.
“That's not it and you know it!” Elise defends her girlfriend.
“It doesn't matter where we move her,” Sian continues, deaf to Elise and me. “Her smell will always be trackable—she'll always be traceable. She's too much of a threat. They're never going to let this go. Even if she goes back to America.”
She moans the last words as if in genuine pain, and my stomach twists sickeningly at her words.
I know that she's right—I know that Belle is a dead woman walking.
I just keep praying and hoping that if we get her on a plane, she'll be too much of a hassle to deal with, even if she’s trackable. The truth is that sending her home isn't good enough—she needs to completely and utterly disappear.
Basically, Belle requires a whole new identity, a whole new life,a whole new scent to be non-traceable. I know Jude spoke to Sian’s cousin who is shifter shady, but can he really pull off what Belle needs to completely blend into the woodwork?
Doubtful.
I don’t know anyone or anything that can erase someone’s scent.
Jack comes charging into the room.
“What’s wrong, Sian? Is it Belle? Is she all right?” he asks frantically.
The titmouse shifter sniffles.
“She’s fine, Jack. I’m just. . . gutted. You know that Belle will never be safe.”
Jack locks eyes with me and runs an impatient hand through his grayish-brown hair—he always does this when he’s agitated.
“We’ll find a way!” he vows more to himself than to Sian. “I won’t letanythinghappen to her.”
Elise tips her head at the vehemence in Jack’s voice—I hear it, too.
Is Jack falling in love with the gorgeous conundrum that dropped into our laps?
I’m not left to ponder this—nor why the thought tightens my chest—because Jack stomps through the flat, calling for Belle.
“She’s not here,” Elise explains once more.
“WHERE IS SHE?!” Jack demands in a fiercer voice than mine.
“Ugh!” the booby shifter sighs in disgust. “She went to the office—stop having a paddy1! She’ll be right back.”
Jack rounds on me.
“Belle’s alone?!”
“That’s what I said!” I say with vindication.
“What’s going on?” Jude wonders as he enters with Theo.
“Elise and Sian let Belle jot across campus—alone!” Jack sneers.
“Enough!” Elise snaps. “Stop acting like you’re the only one here with feelings invested in Belle! We all care about her—or are you too blind to notice? Sian and I didn’t act out of ignorance or because we’re too wrapped up in ourselves. Belle needed some alone time—plain and simple. I understand what’s at stake, but she’s going across campus in broad daylight. Belle, also, understands the danger she’s in. If you’re so concerned, go after her, but I think she deserves fifteen minutes of time to decompress.”
Jude thoughtfully strokes his chin.