But the notes themselves had been games. Some days Gabi had hidden them where only my shifter nose could sniff them out. Other days she’d stuck the post-it on Celeste’s back surreptitiously, the way a big sister might tease a beloved younger sibling.
We’d both been blind, I now realized. Or I’d been blind. Celeste not so much.
And Celeste was the one today’s note was addressed to. “Sister—scan your face and the gate will open,” Gabi had written.
If I hadn’t told Celeste about their relationship, this would have been the moment of truth. Because of course Celeste had gotten out of the van behind me. Of course she’d padded over to see what Vega and I were talking about.
“It’s probably a trap,” I observed because someone had to state the obvious. “Gabi never gives away an advantage.”
“It probably is,” Celeste agreed. “So we’ll be careful as we trip the trigger.”
I didn’t stop her as she led the way past the line of idling minivans to the gate.
Chapter 28
It wasn’t a trap, or at least the gate itself wasn’t. Celeste parked herself in front of the biometric scanner. The light flickered across her face. Then the barrier opened to let us through.
There was no one waiting to spring an ambush on the other side, but whether the gate closed and locked us in was unknown as all five minivans continued winding through the darkness toward the Enclave. Our forces were too slim to leave someone behind to guard our rear, so we simply accepted the fact that we likely couldn’t get back out the way we’d gotten in.
Which was fine for me and Orion. But what about Celeste, who had stopped training when she matriculated in college? What about Orion’s teenage pack mate, Ari, who had been loaned to Vega and rode in her van instead of ours? Had he been given an opportunity to choose not to come along, or was he merely obeying orders?
Orion’s hand settled over mine, the warm weight proof that my worries had tumbled down the mate bond toward him. He didn’t put his sentiment into words, but I somehow knew he had no similar doubts.
I could only choose to hope that he was right and I was wrong.
At the end of the drive, the Enclave loomed above us, imposing columns and severe architecture blending together beneath the moonless sky. The pale blur filled my head with remembered reprimands from when I served as an agent for the Council, trying so hard to please an unpleasable man who wasn’t really my father.
“Loop around back,” I suggested, and Celeste turned the wheel without argument. We passed through the parking lot where I’d always left my vehicle, the entire expanse now eerily empty. Wasn’t there always someone present even at night? Surely the Council didn’t leave the Enclave unguarded, trusting only to a locked gate to protect their secrets?
Circling back to the front, the space beneath the porte-cochère was dark like the rest of the building. The few times I’d come here with Julius, we’d driven up under the entrance roof and he’d tossed his keys to a valet before jogging up the steps.
No valets waited tonight. But, as we drew closer, I saw that the entryway wasn’t entirely dark. Tucked away so far back that I hadn’t seen it from a distance, one lone electric lantern drew my eye to the massive front door. There, a small square of paper fluttered in the breeze.
We were expected. Gabi had left another note.
“Shut off the engines and turn off all dome lights,” Orion murmured into his phone, speaking to Vega who would relay his orders to her pack mates while Orion did the same to his underlings via the pack bond. At night, in total darkness, shifters would have a slight edge over humans whose eyesight was less sensitive.
No matter how careful we tried to be, however, the creak and slam of doors was deafening as we disembarked. Anyone in the vicinity would know we’d arrived.
Plus, there would be security cameras everywhere, likely with infrared capabilities. No wonder the darkness felt more ominous than heartening as I gazed toward the building that should have felt as familiar as home.
Still, Celeste headed toward the post-it without hesitation and I followed, turning from side to side as we padded up the steps to cover her from ambush. Behind us, shifters loyal to two different packs guarded our rear. From the scent of fur in the air, some were already lupine while others had stayed two-legged so they could bear weapons, both blades that were allowed and guns that were forbidden. It had seemed like idiocy to go into battle otherwise, even though we could all be executed for owning firepower simply due to our ability to shift into wolves.
“Follow your nose,” Celeste read aloud, her voice as clear as it used to be during story time with her students. That was all the note said, but she glanced at me and I nodded. We both understood what Gabi meant—shifter hide and seek.
That had been one of our fondest childhood pastimes, a game I only later realized was intended as training for me and perhaps for Celeste also. As youngsters, we’d loved consuming school time with something that felt like play, Celeste trying to trick my heightened senses while I used my shifter nose to figure out where she hid.
It wasn’t a game tonight. The double doors were massive and likely impenetrable when locked. But tonight they pushed open easily. Then Celeste and I stepped inside with a dozen shifters on our heels.
Via the mate bond, I understood that Orion had delegated a subset of our forces to guard the vehicles and try to watch other entrances. But the Enclave was too large for us to cover it completely. Rather than spreading ourselves thin, most followed me and Celeste into the antechamber, staying far enough back so they wouldn’t disrupt the scent trail promised by the note.
“What do you think we’re smelling for?” Celeste asked.
I would have answered, but I was already lupine. Was already nosing through the complex array of aromas on offer, seeking familiarity. Seeking…
Ah, there it was. An old sock of Celeste’s.
Then, for the first time ever, my sister was furry beside me, was snorting as she caught the same scent I did. I could almost see her realizing how very stinky worn clothes were to shifters, could see from the twist of her ears that she was rethinking the annoyance factor when a very small version of herself used to stick her dirty feet in my face.
She whined a soft apology and I nudged her in a don’t worry about it. Then we set off, following the trail of her sweat-salty sock on a very winding path that didn’t need to be nearly as long as it was. Both of us were likely remembering our other infiltration of the Enclave, the one that ended with greased walls and Gabi disappointed as we slammed into a mat.
Now, together, we passed through the kitchens and rushed up cramped servants’ stairwells before returning to the more familiar regions of the upper levels. The ballroom was ahead—an excellent spot for a surprise attack. I relayed that information to Orion, sharing the memory of vast velvet wall hangings behind which agents could be hidden. Of chandeliers that would give the agile a toehold to dangle above our heads.
“Let me go in first,” he answered the way I knew he would.
But I couldn’t speak to Celeste in fur form and she wasn’t slowing down. She led the way as we passed through the wide arched entrance into the event venue where Julius had held her eighteenth birthday party.
Tonight, the space was dark and silent. Back then, though, there’d been glittering lights, an orchestra on the dais, and Council members congratulating my sister on her grace and beauty. Maybe Celeste remembered that too. For whatever reason, she wasn’t cautious as we intruded upon the vast open floor of the ballroom. So I was the one who saw the dark shape soaring toward her from behind. I was the one who reacted to the danger it represented.
Leaping and twisting, I slammed the attacker out of the air. Snarling as I changed trajectory, I landed on top and…
Finnegan lay in wolf form beneath me, instantly submitting with his neck curved sideways. The whole time, his eyes remained on Celeste. The intensity of his gaze told me better than words what had just occurred.
He’d understood the ballroom’s danger potential the same way I had, but he’d been hemmed in at the rear of our entourage. So he’d lunged over everyone, trying to reach Celeste before any enemy could. And I’d mistaken him for exactly the enemy he’d sought to protect against.
Our tussle had been loud enough to wake up even napping human guards, but no one rushed out of hiding. The dark ballroom appeared empty other than the shifters circled up around us, facing out to protect me and Celeste from danger.
So I let Finnegan clamber back to his feet then shake himself. Let him fall into step on Celeste’s left flank while Orion mirrored him on my right. We turned a corner and I understood at last where we were being led.
