Moon Claimed (Werewolf Dens #2) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,97

over my cheeks, I ended the call.

I couldn’t go to the manor.

I couldn’t.

But I did.

Washing my face, I dressed on the comfortable side of professional in case I had to run on short notice.

The cold shoulders of those in the manor bounced off me as I walked to the office. I inserted the key and turned it.

She’d changed the fucking lock again.

Standing back, I kicked the entrance in. Today was not the day to fuck with me.

No one was inside—lucky for them—and I propped open the splintered door as best as possible before settling at the desk.

I stared at my phone, willing Sascha to call. I could feel the elastic sensation pulling tighter, moving systematically as he searched for Wade.

“Hey, Andie?” Eleanor said from the door. “There was a call for you. Something about a problem out at Sandstone.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “I’ll call them.”

I swallowed hard, checking the desk clock. Time for my first meeting. I stood on autopilot.

This day would drag forever.

As long as Wade was safe at the end of it, I didn’t care.

2:00 p.m.

Sascha hadn’t replied to my string of texts. He could be out of reception, but I was one more text from losing my cool.

Hands shaking, I gathered the reports and filed them in my drawer.

Nope. I couldn’t stand it.

I had to go to pack lands now.

“Hey, Andie,” Eleanor said from the door. “Sandstone called again. They didn’t hear from you.”

I groaned. “Totally forgot. I’ll give them a call now. Did they say what the issue was?”

“There’s something they needed you to sign off on. That’s all I got.”

Grids was there tonight. I couldn’t ignore this. Reaching for the phone, I looked up the number for Sandstone reception and dialled.

It rang out.

I tried again.

“Fuck.” I jammed the phone down.

2:10 p.m.

Driving there took forty minutes. I could make it there and back for the pack gathering at four.

Just.

And it would give me something to do.

Entering the Sandstone number into my personal phone, I dialled again, jogging down the hall to my car.

No answer.

Ella F came to life and I stilled. What if the problem in Sandstone had to do with Wade and the black wolf? Surely not.

There were over a hundred workers in the quarry. There’s no way one Luther overthrew all of those trained stewards.

Shaking panic off, I started the drive to the quarry.

Panic won’t help your pack, my wolf said.

I don’t know how to stop feeling panic.

We’ll tear out the throat of the Luther responsible for this. Focus on that.

I gripped the wheel, trying the thought of murder on for size, but I wasn’t much for seeking blood. I just wanted Wade back.

Driving through the quarry car park, I scanned the other cars. Some stewards had left to prepare for the game, but there had to be at least fifty vehicles around.

My chest loosened. I’m way too on edge.

Locking the car, I checked my phone, frantically opening Sascha’s message.

Searched the south side. He’s not here.

See you soon.

The black wolf would be a fool to hide Wade on pack lands. I’d known that and still hoped.

I opened the reception door. “Hello?”

Hanson was head admin for Sandstone. I looked into the staff and storage rooms. Closing the door behind me, I walked toward the sheds, ignoring staring workers.

“Andie!”

I silently berated myself for jumping as Hanson approached. “Hey. Eleanor got a call from someone here who needed me.”

He frowned. “Did she say who called? Oh.” He straightened, “It was probably about approval to clear the next quarry zone. We need the proposal assessed to make sure care for the land is displayed before work starts.”

Dammit, this wasn’t urgent at all.

“Who should I speak to?”

“Foley’s in the far shed. He’s your guy.”

He wasn’t my guy, and he certainly wasn’t my favourite guy after Clay.

I’d arrange a time to return after Wade was found. This wasn’t a priority at all. And assessing their proposal would take longer than the twenty minutes I had before the drive back.

Colour me a hypocrite, but Wade’s life was far more important to me than tribe matters.

I entered the large shed that housed the cherry pickers.

“Foley?”

“Yeah?” came a shout.

“It’s Andie. Hanson said you had a proposal for me?” I moved into the shed and spotted him in the back office.

The stench of oil overwhelmed my senses and I covered my nose with my tank top. Gross.

Foley appeared, wiping his hands on a rag. “Hey, yeah. It’s back here.”

How did he stand this smell all day? My eyes watered. “I’ll take it with me to