held most dear in danger.
There'd been a time when all we'd had were questions. We had the answers now. We knew our former leader, Pierce, avoided the explosion we believed had killed him in Colombia and, using Thalasso's power, was transported immediately to pack lands, where he kidnapped Quinlan—double-crossing the demon king he served. Thalasso needed Quinlan dead if he was going to eliminate any chance of the gate closing once he began the process of opening it with the Heretic Rites.
Pierce set the hellfire bomb off to cover his tracks, at which time he was able to use the weapon he was promised when he sold his soul on Quinlan, to attempt to turn him from me. With an obsession fueled by Quinlan's nephilim gift, Pierce believed himself in love with Quinlan, until it came down to his life or Quin's. That should've been proof enough to Quinlan that his power wasn't at fault for anything. It was Pierce who'd warped everything to fit the narrative in his head.
"At some point, Thalasso must've grown impatient waiting in hell for his people to find enough nephilim outside of their protection years to begin the first sacrifice, prompting the blood experiments we'd discovered at the Christmas Valley Portal compound.
I leaned in, inhaling softly as Quinlan chewed. He smiled and moved into the motion. "You need to eat. Tomorrow's the big day."
He smelled so much like home I could almost convince myself we were at the hotel, no demons chasing after us, just my pregnant mate, glowing with contentedness and satisfaction.
In reality, my mate smelled like home but with enough stress souring his scent to make it clear something was wrong. I didn't have to ask what; I knew what. It was the same reason why the other alphas had their noses buried in their omega's necks as well. The same reason no one spoke above a whisper or smiled.
When the pack had finished eating, we pulled the blankets and pillows from the individual rooms and brought them to the shared space. Those who weren't holding babies wordlessly pushed the furniture back, lifted the table from the center, and laid down thick mats.
I claimed a spot on the ground and pulled Quinlan against my front. He grabbed blindly for my hand, and I gave it to him. In front of him, the twins and Sitka curled up in their wolf forms. To their right, Storri lay with Faust and the girls, babbling happily to one another.
I hoped the others got some sleep but knew I wouldn't be.
Quinlan pressed my palm against his round stomach. We hadn't felt the baby move yet. Doctor Tiff had said it should only take a few more days before we could.
Quinlan squeezed my fingers. "We're meeting this child." The whispered promise was loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, and I suspected that was the point. He hadn't only been talking to me.
My normal promises stuck in my teeth. I couldn't tell him I'd keep him safe or that I'd never let anyone hurt him. Soon, he would be in danger. All of the nephilim would. And if we failed, it wouldn't matter that we left the others behind.
One way or another, all of this would end tomorrow.
"Out of all the places I imagined the gate to hell would be, I never thought Pennsylvania," Jazz whispered
We looked like idiots—or would have, if anyone could see us. Concealed under a gauze sheet, Jazz used his ability to make us blend in with the forest. After weeks of practice, he'd learned how to manipulate an illusion even after the object left his hands. The end result was a sheet that constantly changed to match the scenery. He wouldn't have been able to maintain an illusion like that on more than one object at a time. That meant one sheet and walking at an infuriatingly slow pace while huddled together.
"At least Hellam Township sounds suitably more ominous." Only Storri would sound pleased by that.
"What's the status of the decoys?" Knox asked.
Storri cleared his throat and stood straighter. "The crow said they're in position. Ready to leave on time."
Knox grunted.
Sitka rubbed his face against Jazz's shoulder. Stress changed everyone in different ways. With Sitka, it made him more affectionate. "How much farther?"
"Half a mile until there can be no more chatter," Faust told him. "At that point, we'll be two miles from the gate."
Storri stumbled over a root, and everyone around him caught him at once. "Thanks, sorry." He