Grayson
Three days.
Seventy-two hours since Ravyn had been taken, and they had nothing to show for it except a growing pile of false leads and dead ends.
Grayson stood in the Northern Pack’s main lodge, staring at the massive map that covered one entire wall. Red pins marked confirmed sightings of the black SUV. Blue pins showed vampire safe houses that had been searched and found empty. Yellow pins indicated locations where Victoria’s surveillance network had picked up traces of Valerius’s scent.
All of them led nowhere.
“Highway 7 sighting was another false positive,” Kane reported, walking into the room with exhaustion written across his face. “The vehicle matched the description, but the occupants were human. Investment bankers from the city.”
“That’s the eighth false lead today,
