Around us, fields stretched for miles making the surrounding land seem like a sea of quaintness while the asylum was an island of death and horror.

“I’m sure it was once quite charming,” the Fire Wolf said dryly as we strode toward the main doors.

“Probably as cheery as a bouquet of daisies.”

He snorted.

Our feet tapped quietly on the asphalt, and I felt inside me for the bond with my twin sister. It tingled briefly, and then vibrating slightly as a tug of it came to life.

My heart soared. “Oh my gods, Tessa!” My pace picked up, my walk turning into a run.

The Fire Wolf tensed. “Do you feel her?”

I concentrated on the bond more, willing it to grow to life and lead me in her direction. But as soon as I reached the front door, the initial vibration stilled, and then melted away like ice on a warm spring morning.

The eagerness inside me died, and I whirled around to the hunter. “I sensed her. She’s been here recently.”

The Fire Wolf’s nostrils flared. He inhaled, closing his eyes. I watched as his jaw flexed and his fingers curled. “I can scent her slightly on the breeze. It’s not strong, but like you said, she was here.”

“And now the question is, how long ago?”

The Fire Wolf growled and opened his eyes again, his irises flashing fire. “They must be moving her. I only finished scrying fifteen minutes ago, and she was here when I picked up her signal. They may know that they’re being tracked. Whoever took Tessa obviously isn’t taking any chances. They know the longer she’s gone, the weaker her signal will become for trackers.”

“Is that how scrying works? If you don’t find her right away, it gets harder and harder to track her?”

He stiffened. “Something like that.”

“But why the hell do they want my sister? She’s never done anything to anybody.”

“I have a feeling that once you’re able to answer that question, we’ll know a lot more about who we’re dealing with.”

“So what do we do now? Do you scry again for her?”

He looked away, a tightness creeping along his shoulders. “I can’t, not yet. Scrying takes . . . a lot out of me. I’ll need to rest before I do it again.”

“Oh.” My shoulders slumped. “You need to recharge your magic.” The infallible Fire Wolf was actually fallible after all.

His only response was a curt nod. I had a feeling the Fire Wolf didn’t like admitting his weaknesses.

And even though my eyes were beginning to feel gritty and dry, and I knew we both needed to rest, I also knew that would be hard to do since my sister was still missing.

“So should we sit down here?” I scanned the area. Nobody was around, and I wasn’t opposed to finding a quiet area to rest our eyes.

His eyebrows shot up. “You want to sleep here? What, in the grass or something?”

I shrugged. “Have you got a better idea?”

“Actually, yes. I don’t know if this area is secure, so we’ll return to my base, but before we do, I want to search the asylum. It’s possible they left clues behind or something that will tell us why your sister was abducted.”

I straightened, some of my fatigue disappearing. “Of course. Good idea.”

The Fire Wolf grabbed the asylum’s front door—a heavy monstrosity of solid metal covered in peeling paint—and tested it. It groaned but didn’t budge.

I couldn’t help but think about horror movies in which the characters entered the building when they obviously should have run away from the inevitable doom lurking inside. I focused on the bond with Tessa again. The initial vibration I’d felt had been reduced to a slight quiver. She was definitely gone from here.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked as the hunter assessed the lock. “The floors in there could be rotted so we may fall through, and if they thought the SF may be onto them, they could have left booby-traps.”

An amused smirk tilted his lips. “Did you just say booby-traps?”

“And if I did?”

A low laugh rumbled in his chest. “If there are booby-traps, I’ll deal with them.” With a massive wrench, he pulled the ginormous barrier open, breaking right through the lock. The door scraped across the pavement making the most unpleasant screeching noise. But despite the thick padlock and rusty hinges, the Fire Wolf had made opening it look like child’s play.

I planted a hand on my hip. “Are you ever going to tell me what you are?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You know what I am. I’m a hunter.”

I rolled my eyes and peered within the asylum. A black abyss waited. “I take it that’s a no.”

“Your intelligence is turning out to be just as adequate as your memory.”

“Okay, Mr. Comedian. So now what?” I peered inside again but made no move to enter. This was definitely turning into the makings of a horror movie.

“Isn’t this where I say ladies first?”

I was about to poke him in the chest, but then remembered I may lose a finger for doing that, so I settled with crossing my arms. “I hired you, remember? You go first.”

He brought a hand to his chest. “You think so little of me? I was trying to be a gentleman.”

I snorted quietly at the twinkle in his eyes. “You might help homeless kids in Portland, but I have a feeling that gratuity doesn’t extend to perfectly capable women who work nine to five and pay their taxes.”

A light wind picked up, ruffling his dark hair. Gods, he was so sexy. “You’re really not going to let that one go, are you?”

I quickly looked away, anywhere but at him. When he looked like that, I wanted to step closer to him. “What can I say? I felt judged.”

He flashed me a grin, and damn the man for looking so good. Nobody should be allowed to wear a smile like that. It made me want to sell a kidney for him.

“And if I apologized?” he asked innocently.

“Would you mean it?”

“What if I did? Would it matter if I said I was sorry?”

My heart rate sped up, thumping away like a frantic bird trying to escape my chest. When he looked at me like that—with his amber-hued eyes smoldering like an inferno just waiting to burst to life—and now sounded like that . . .

Well, it was enough for me to want to sell two kidneys, which obviously wasn’t smart. Pretty sure I needed at least one.

“I don’t know,” I said, then cleared my throat. Damn, had I really just sounded breathless? “It might help.”

A slight glow lit his fiery eyes as his nostrils flared. I could only imagine the aroused scent I was giving off. That amused smirk returned before he said, “I’m mostly sorry for how I judged you at the Black Underbelly.”

His half apology had my eyes widening. I debated between laughing at him or punching him. “What do you mean mostly?”

“Because I was right about one thing—you do pay your taxes and work nine to five, but you’re anything but an average supernatural.”

A tingle of unease traveled down my spine. “What makes you say that?”

“I saw enough in Portland to know that you can handle yourself in a fight. Most average supernaturals can’t.” He cocked his head. “I’ll admit, I was surprised. Your scent is that of a weak witch, so I know your magic isn’t strong, which means you have actual fighting skills, like a human would.”

My shoulders relaxed. “So, you’re saying I’m like a human? A vainer supernatural would be offended at that comment.”

“But you’re not offended, are you?”

I paused, doing my best to school my expression. I was anything but offended. I was freakin’ ecstatic. He thought I was a weak witch and that my skills were from knowing how to throw a punch. My cloaking spell—a spell that I always had in place to hide my strong magic was fooling even him. He had no idea about the magic that lay in my veins, which also meant he had no clue about my forbidden power. This was exactly why I’d paid the money to hire him. We’d started searching for Tessa faster than the SF would have, and my secret was still safe.