The beta looked at me with fierce, shining eyes when he said, “This ends tonight.”

I hoped he was right.

Chapter 15

Sardis Lake reflected the moon in its belly. Insects skating over the surface of the water caused ripples as their slender legs glided. I stood at the base of the pier where the Tanner sisters had gone fishing, the closest I had come to this particular site. A knocking sound made me frown. I scanned the night for its source while praying it wasn’t my knees.

“It’s not too late to call in the conclave,” I murmured, wary of fuzzy ears picking up the offer.

Somewhere wolves prowled the woods on soft paws. Harlow’s one sticking point was she wanted complete privacy for her “change”. I got a pass, because I knew her secret. That and she had been shivering since we left. Even in the dark, the temperature hung in the mid-eighties. Cold wasn’t to blame for her teeth chattering.

“I’ve got this. Don’t worry so much.” Harlow dropped her bag on the planks, adjusted her skintight neoprene top, this one in black, and sat. “You look ready to yak. Are you sure you can handle this?”

“No.” I backed up until the heels of my boots sank deep into the sandy soil. “I’m not.”

My honesty must have shaken her, because her fingers slipped on the lock fastened to an inner pocket. “We’re not alone.” I got the feeling she was comforting herself. “We’ve got the wolves for backup.” She wiped her hands and tried again. “That’s what—eight wargs? They can swim, right?”

“As far as I know.” The smell of wet dog almost bowled me over whenever I entered the shack. “I don’t see Graeson making his stand here if the pack wasn’t willing to get their paws wet.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right.” After that ringing endorsement, she let her eyes go unfocused while she gazed across the water. “There are no naturally occurring aquatic caves in the area. Whatever’s down there was hand carved. The Mississippi River is maybe an hour away. Freshies use it like a highway. It’s not impossible that a large body of water like this one, so close to a main ‘road’, might be used as nesting grounds.” Her voice went soft. “There could be caves for miles down there depending on the size of the pod.”

“Freshies are freshwater mermaids?” I clarified.

“Yes.” Her eyebrows lifted. “Salties—like my parents—view them as hillbilly cousins or something. Lots of animosity there.”