The Runaways: Book 1 of the The White Goddess Series

30. Undercover

"You done sulking yet?" Tom asked when he'd hung up with Erikson.

"Fuck off," Nick grunted. He didn't care if he was sulking. He was frustrated. And disappointed. And pissed off. And he drank too much last night, and got up before dawn this morning, and spent the last four hours in the forest sniffing every hidey-hole and puddle of piss in a fifty mile radius. He was allowed to sulk.

Tom huffed in amusement. "I'll take that as a no."  

Nick ignored the look he knew Tom was giving him and slumped down further in his seat as they headed back to town. Tom had insisted on driving, probably afraid Nick would stop and run back to the forest like he'd done yesterday after they'd abandoned their search.

Erikson had filled them in on what he'd learned when he got back into the rental at the school yesterday. The girl's apparent healing powers shocked Nick, but didn't surprise him. She seemed potentially capable of anything, this young girl who could compel shifters and put the world on pause, who had been worshipped as a goddess and somehow tunnelled into Nick's brain. 

There were only a few known healers in the Empire, only one of them with wolf shifter blood and none purely human. Most were witches, their innate abilities triggered by spells. Could the girl be a witch? The thought made Nick's blood run cold. 

Erikson was inclined to think she was an Elemental. According to the spy, the more serious the injury or sickness, the longer the recovery period for healer. It explained why the girl's friend had been carrying her as they ran from the Rogue King. Again.

King knew about her healing powers, Nick was sure of it. As every warrior knew, shifter healing abilities had limitations. Severe injuries could take hours or days or even longer to heal, too late to tip the scales in the heat of battle. And the earning potential was limitless for a true healer in the human world. As Lucifer King and as the king of rogue shifters, the girl's value to King was immeasurable.

And once he got his hands on her, the ruthless, power-driven Rogue King would never let her go.

Tom and Erikson had been discussing all the ways King could exploit her when Nick pulled the car over and succumbed to the drumbeat in his head. Go back. Find them. Protect her. 

The Captain had been resigned, knowing better than to argue as Nick jumped out and started to strip, deftly and efficiently folding his shirt and pants and tucking them under the straps of the cross-body leather harness all Reggies wore under their clothes. 

Nick had been only vaguely aware of the rental pulling back onto the highway as his wolf took over and plunged into the forest, heading back to the oak where he'd felt the pull so strongly before. He never should have left that spot. 

Squinting now in the brilliant mid-morning sun through the windshield, Nick gnashed his teeth thinking of the fox den he'd found, too late, hidden behind the rocks in the hollow of the giant tree. Nick didn't know how he knew the girl's scent, but it was as familiar as his own and fresh enough to tell Nick they'd probably been inside the den while he'd stood there, leaning against the rocks just a few oblivious feet away.  

The realization made his wolf a little crazy, sending him howling in fury and regret that he hadn't shifted sooner. Fuck human proximity and fuck protocols. His wolf could have found them hours ago. They could be safe and on their way to Ainu with Erikson by now. 

Nick had managed to track the runaways south for a while before losing their scent completely at the bank of a fast-moving stream. It was dark by then and with no scent to follow, Nick had been about to call it a night when it occurred to him they might have doubled back to the highway and hitched a ride back home. They probably had no idea the Rogue King knew where they lived.