“Looks like this Rabid is an equal-opportunity hunter,” I said. “I was attacked in Colorado. Ink is from—”
Where was Ink from?
Kansas.
The answer was enough to make me close my eyes, letting a blink last longer than it otherwise would have.
Somewhere in Shannon’s Ridge, Ink was awake.
“Ink is from Kansas,” I said. “Rim of Callum’s territory.”
“You and Madison were both little girls. Your parents were obviously adults. Ink is a teenage boy. What’s the pattern?”
There were few things in life more frightening than a werewolf who watched Law and Order.
“Multiple states, multiple territories. There is no pattern, unless …”
I didn’t finish my sentence, and I didn’t have to. River was already there.
“Unless there are more.”
Not just Ink and Madison and me. What if there had been others
