“Yes,” I said. “Which means they know her. Or know of her. Which means they might lead us to her. Or at least toward her.”
His breath left him in a harsh exhale.
“Or it means she has her claws in them too,” he said. “And now she knows there’s a little fool of a Luna in Blackmoon poking at her web.”
Heat flared in my chest.
“I am not doing this for fun,” I snapped. “I’m doing it because sitting here while she tightens her grip around your throat is killing me as surely as it is you. Someone out there knows more than we do. I reached out because no one *here* is willing to.”
His eyes darkened.
“I told you,” he said, voice rough, “not to go near witches. Not to put yourself in their line.”
“I’m already in their line,” I said. “You think she doesn’t know who I am? Do you think she didn’
