They didn’t give it to Mischa and Grace. The quads and I had been a pack for so long sometimes we forgot about our newest members. My bad … I really shouldn’t forget I had a twin sister. Don’t get me wrong, I already loved her – identical features and all – but she was quiet, and quiet supernaturals tended to get lost around us. Grace, I wasn’t sure of – with her elfin features and low firm voice – but my wolf sensed nothing to distrust and I liked her calm nature. She tempered the rest of us a little. Healer witches were softer than most supes, more in touch with Mother Nature.

The note returned to Braxton, he slipped it into his pocket. I resisted the urge to demand its return. It was my freaking note after all, but for now I decided to only fight the necessary battles. Our group was silent but watchful as we continued along an unchanging path. The cold still prickled in the air, but it was definitely less freezing than on the other side.

I had a sudden thought. “Do you think this is where Krakov is?” I lowered my voice so as not to be overheard by any but my boys. I was sure the Romanian supernatural prison was the last place Louis would have sent us, but who knew what that infuriating mage was thinking.

Four heads swiveled in my direction, before looking between each other again. I knew, on occasion, the quads communicated without speaking. It freaked me out, reminded me of the Four and how they were clones of each other. I would be mighty pissed if that ever happened to the Compasses. Sure, they had plenty of similarities, they were quads after all, but I loved that each of them was relatively unique. I did not want that to change.

Finally Maximus answered. “I don’t know, they’re as reticent with information on that prison as they are with Vanguard.” All the supernatural prisons were well hidden and protected. For many obvious reasons. “But I believe it’s concealed somewhere in the valley of a mountain range, not halfway up like we are here.”

“Yes,” Braxton said, confirming this. “There’s also a gateway community bordering it. This is not the prison … this is something else entirely.”

Cloaky was still moving at the same even, striding rate, and as we followed his path I noticed that this seemingly never-ending tunnel was actually … well, ending. The low light was starting to brighten out in the distance, and I was astonished that it looked like natural light. Had we just walked straight through the mountain to the other side? Surely not, it was a massive range, it would have taken us days to cross. There had to be some other explanation.