she asks, thankfully in her normal voice.
“I think in the next few weeks?” I respond, hoping to get her onboard with the timeframe. I know that the sooner it happens, then hopefully Trigger can find out what he needs to shut the rogues down and help us find the missing lion cub. Not having any trace or any leads in his whereabouts is driving me to the point of insanity. I don’t want him lost to those rogues and end up doing their bidding.
“Then we need to plan,” Shyla retorts, grabbing a notepad and pen out of her overflowing bag.
Dooly shakes his head, grinning at the three of us as we huddle at the table while the babies lie in the playpen. “I’ll be outside keeping an eye on things,” he states.
I shiver, the feeling of doom rolling through me once again. I glance at the babies but they don’t seem to sense anything wrong. “Be careful,” I state. When he looks at me, I say, “Something doesn’t feel right again. I don’t know why, though.”
“Let me call Trigger,” he says, stepping outside. A few minutes later, he returns and looks at us before he states, “He’s on his way and is bringing Caspen with him.”
What? Why would a council member be with him unless something else came to light? “Okay,” I slowly say.
“He doesn’t want any of us to leave, either,” he imparts.
I roll my eyes because that sounds like something my overprotective mate would say. “It wasn’t like we were going to run out and hit the mall, Dooly,” I retort.
“Stay put, Vaughn. I’m not in the mood to deal with a pissed-off grizzly.”
Grinning, I salute him. “Aye, aye, captain. We’ll behave.”
In no time at all, Trigger along with Caspen come striding through the front door, Dooly trailing behind them. He went back outside to ‘keep watch’ or some shit, while Glorianna did a few Fae rituals to ensure that we would be okay. As Trigger makes his way straight to me and Emmaline, who I’m now cuddling, I see the worry in his eyes. “Glad you’re okay, mate,” he whispers near my ear before he kisses me.
“Never better,” I quip as he leans down and kisses Emmaline’s forehead. “Why is Caspen here?” I ask.
Before he can answer, I see Caspen stiffen and turn around, his eyes darting around the room. “Where is it?” he asks. “Where is the decoder of the ancients?”
Eighteen
Vaughn
My mouth drops open then closes as I take in the words Caspen just spewed. “Decoder of the ancients? I think that entire statement needs some clarification,” I declare, shifting Emmaline to my hip. She babbles and coos, reaching up with her hand in an attempt to grab my hair. I’m charting her growth; she’s shooting up like a weed and is already acting more like a toddler than a newborn.
“What’s this ancient decoder thing you were referring to look like?” Trigger interrupts and asks Caspen.
“What’s this about an ancient decoder? Are we playing cloak and dagger or something?” Shyla asks, as she too enters the room with Scar mimicking Emmaline’s position.
Out the corner of my eye, I witness Caspen stiffen and his nose begins to twitch. “Mine,” leaves his mouth with a growl. Shyla then swiftly shuffles around me and her eyes narrow in on Caspen. When the purr begins to rumble in her chest, I know we’ve just stumbled upon another mating pair.
“Oh shit, you have got to be fucking kidding me,” Trigger exasperatingly states with a hint of annoyance woven in his words. “Caspen, man, we need you to focus. Ancient artifact now, mate later.” When my man says this, he snaps his finger in Caspen’s face earning himself elongated fangs aimed in his direction.
“Don’t you dare eat my mate, you overgrown… wait, what animal do you harbor?” I ask. Usually I can tell by the smell of a shifter alone, but somehow his scent is masked from me.
“He’s surrounded by Fae magic. All council members are. It’s so they’re not seen or presumed to have any prejudices toward others,” Glorianna helpfully supplies.
“But I knew right away that Trigger was a grizzly,” I state confused, because my man is a council member as well.
“My mask was removed when I took up the permanent job of sheriff for the island,” Trigger explains.
“That makes sense,” Shyla expresses, her eyes never wavering from Caspen. Then, I smell her pheromones as her mating instincts kick in.
“Did I smell like that?” I ask while pointing an accusing finger