I woke up in the backseat of the truck.
Guilermo was gone.
Panic flared in my chest, sharp and immediate. I sat up, wincing as my shoulder protested.
"Alpha?"
The truck was empty. The heater was still running, but the driver's seat was vacant.
I looked out the window.
We were parked on the ridge overlooking Oakhaven. The mist of the Grey Lands was behind us, a wall of churning gray. Below, the town was waking up. Smoke curled from chimneys.
But something was wrong.
There were trucks in the square. Black trucks. Coven trucks.
And men in dark robes were swarming the streets.
"Marco!" I shouted, pounding on the glass.
The door opened. Marco was there, looking grim.
"You're awake," he said.
"Where is he?" I demanded. "Where is Guilermo?"
Marco pointed down the hill.
"He went to
