He stares at my hardened nipples, poking through my thin t-shirt.
“Better get upstairs and clean up.” Bo pauses. “Unless you want me to add to that mess leaking down your thighs.”
He takes a half step forward and I spin around and rush up the stairs to my floor with his chuckles following behind me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“What do you mean? How the hell did this happen?” Bo asks.
His raised voice urges me to take the stairs two at a time. Bo barks into the phone, pacing the length of the living room.
I turn to Kirk who shakes his head.
“Did he say anything before they found him?” He purses his lips. “Useless.”
Swearing he disconnects and tosses his phone on the couch.
Risking his wrath, I catch his angry gaze. “What happened?”
He grimaces. “The prisoner is dead.”
“What?” I whisper.
“He committed suicide in his cell.”
Cadoc slams his hand down on the table beside him. “Bull.”
Bo scowls. “So we’re back at square one.”
“How did he die?” A strange sadness settles in my chest.
“Hanged himself with his bed sheets.”
Chills run over me. “What were they so desperate to keep hidden?” I ask.
“How the hell are we supposed to find out now?”
Bo’s explosive temper makes me flinch. He kicks a wicker basket across the room, and it crashes into a wall.
Fell leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “We can go back to the last place we saw him and see if he left a clue.”
“It’s not the worst idea,” Cadoc admits.
Bo jabs his fingers at me. “We barely got her out alive the first time.”
“This time we travel as wolves. It’ll be dark soon, no one will be looking for us,” Fell says.
“I’m sure they’ve already ransacked that place,” Bo argues. “It’s a risk we don’t need to take.”
Fell straightens. “Do you have a better plan?”
Bo looks away. “Not yet.”
Fell snickers. “Yeah, cause that’s helpful.”
“You got something you want to say?” Bo’s body tenses and he stands taller.
“Enough. Bo, go take a walk. Fell quit baiting him.” I point at Fell. I can only handle one asshole at a time. “Fighting is getting us nowhere.”
“Fine.” Bo stalks to the door and yanks his coat off one of the hooks. He shoves his arm into one sleeve and a small piece of paper flutters to the ground.
“What’s that?”
Bo turns to me. “A coat.”
“No.” I point to the small square. “This. It fell from your jacket.”
“I don’t know.” Bo picks up the parchment, unfolding it. I gasp at the sight of the triangle.
He flips the sheet over.
“Fenrir’s blessing.”
I rush toward him.
“It’s coordinates.” He holds it up. Cadoc scans it.
Is it safe to follow these? “Where do you think they lead?”
