Page 72 of Touched By Moonlight
“Yes, alpha,” the boywhispered.
Much as I admired how Grayson handled that matter, I couldn’t help my worry. What if Carmen didn’treturn?
The wolves could track her easily through scent, but they’d lost the trail in the acres of woods between the pack territory and the campground. Carmen could be anywhere. Worst, if she got near theriver…
I had abilities the shifters did not. Fionn Fae can see the residual energy left by a person’s aura as if we were a thermal imaging machine. Months had passed since I’d had to use thistalent.
Now was a good time to test itout.
“I’m going to look for her.” I grabbed a water bottle and abackpack.
“No.” Grayson caught my arm. “It’s toodangerous.”
“Too dangerous? A little girl is out there and it’s getting dark in a few hours. And it’s too dangerous forme?”
Grayson led me down the porch stairs. When we were on the brick pathway, out of earshot of the children, he spoke in a lowvoice.
“Too dangerous for you, Sienna. The worst that could happen to Carmen is she is eventually found. Much worse can happen to you if you stray beyond our borders. The land backs up to the campground you askedabout.”
“I can take care of myself. She’s just ababy.”
“A baby familiar with pack life. A baby who wasn’t attacked by a deadly Fae.” Grayson fisted his hands. “It’s notsafe.”
His radio crackled. Grayson spoke impatiently. “What?”
Stephan’s voice came over the receiver. “We found her scent and then we lost it. Not even Nicolas can pick it up again. She’s vanished into thinair.”
Four other shifters who’d returned from the search lookedupset.
The alpha’s shoulders slumped. “Damnit. I’ll have to call her parents. They can cast a spell to find her… if only someone could read residual energy auratraces!”
“Ican.”
Everyone stared at me, except Grayson, who stared at his radio as if it held theanswers.
“I haven’t done it in years, but I can do it. Especially since she’s a child with a pure aura and nomagick.”
Grayson’s gaze darted to the woods. Henodded.
“Very well. I’m coming with you,” hedecided.
No protest from me. In truth, I was glad of his company because those woods seemed sinister and eerie, with overtones ofdarkness.
We set out, Grayson leading the way in wolf form, his lips pulled back in a snarl, as if challenging any entity that might jump out at us between the trees. As we drew closer to the area where the quaking aspens met dark forest, the uneasy feeling grew stronger and the heaviness lingered in theair.
I’d felt this sort of heaviness before. It indicated traces of powerful enchantment, the ghosts of tragedy. Once in my travels I walked through a Civil War battlefield that had seen numerous deaths. The same miasma of violence and grief lingered there, so much that when I saw a ghost in gray cross the field, I was notsurprised.
Growling, Grayson loped ahead of me. I halfway expected to see spirits floating among the thicket of pinetrees.
As we reached the thicket of menacing fir trees, I called to Grayson. “Stop.”
He turned and in doing so, shifted back to human form, jeans, a long-sleeved polo shirt and hiking boots appearing on his body almost instantly. “What’s wrong? Did you seesomething?”
I put a finger to my mouth, indicatingsilence.
Andlistened.
Wind whispered through the trees, and in the distance a tinkling like chimes blowing in the breeze. No birds. No animals scuttling in the underbrush. No hum of insects. It was eerily quiet. The air smelled dank, like fungus, but threaded through it was the sweet scent ofchildhood.
