Cristia watched Grant laughing with Ember across the room. She’d been trying to figure the male out for the past hour. The house was filled with eating, drinking and celebrating while the members welcomed her and the other two females to the Grove, but she remained fixated on the sexy shifter.

Grant congratulated her on acquiring recruit status, and seemed genuine in his compliment, but she couldn’t forget that at first, he objected to training her. He was confusing as hell. Especially now, smiling her way, acting as if nothing had happened. She didn’t miss the furtive glances he snuck her way.

Every time her eyes sought his, he was gazing at her. That was something she understood. Grant was gorgeous. Was he as interested in her, or was it something else? Maybe he was keeping a close eye on his new trainee or perhaps he was still disgusted by his new task.

Cristia knew she was an unlikely candidate for C.L.A.W. She transferred to the Grove from a smaller pack in Alabama, where she created metal sculptures and sold them to small boutiques along the coast. Becoming a lieutenant was a far cry from her art career, but it was something she’d wanted from the time she transitioned from stripling to adult. Creating sculptures was a pastime she enjoyed, and she was damn good at what she did, but it wasn’t her driving force in life.

Unfortunately, becoming a soldier wasn’t an option for females until recently. For centuries, females were to be protected, not placed in harm’s way. Even though some packs weren’t up to speed with the notion, she was beyond grateful that females were considered equals. The excitement of fulfilling her passion sang in her veins. Above all else, Cristia wanted to own the title of a C.L.A.W.

In Alabama, she took it upon herself to patrol areas around pack land where the stripling played. Her shop was a weathered shed close to her small cabin, and it was normal for Cristia to take a break and prowl around in jaguar form. Her brother teased her mercilessly about her unusual predatory nature, but it didn’t deter her dreams.

Suddenly, Hayden’s front door burst open and slammed against the wall before it bounced back to a frantic female standing in the doorway. It spoke to their training, and lethal skills, that every member in the room had a weapon in their hand before the next breath. Cristia grabbed a poker from the fireplace, preparing to fight.

“Helga. What is it?” Hayden demanded as he rushed to the female’s side and wrapped his arm around her shaking shoulders.

The female buried her face in her hands and began weeping.

“They disappeared. All of them. I went to the bathroom during nap time, and when I came back…they were gone,” Helga sobbed. “All that remained was the scent of brimstone.”

It was difficult to understand the distraught female through the sobs wracking her small frame, but her words got the room in motion.

Cristia went to Grant’s side while the other recruits went to their respective trainers. She glanced at Grant and noted his tightly pursed lips and narrowed eyes. Cristia gripped her makeshift weapon tighter and followed his lead. There was too much standing around in her opinion. They needed to act, and fast. The children were in more danger with each passing second.

Cristia crossed and uncrossed her arms, nervously glancing around the room. No one moved while Hayden tried to calm Helga and get more answers from her. It didn’t take long for the omega to determine she didn’t have additional information that would help them, but it felt like hours passed before Hayden barked orders to the group.

“Spread out and track around the property. We’ll meet back at the nursery. Grant, you and Cristia go east. Ember, you and Paige go west. And, Beau, you and Stacy head north. The rest of us will fan out and take the longer, southern route to the nursery.”

A chorus of “Yes, Sire,” echoed around the room then Cristia followed Grant through the back door. The second they stepped outside, she noticed Grant’s nostrils flare while his head went in every direction. It seemed impossible that he could track anything at the rate his head was moving, yet, she knew he was aware of every animal and shifter in the area.

“How do you do that? Your head is like a pinball, bouncing all over the place,” she said as they started walking.

“You need to use all your senses. Eliminate any familiar scents, and focus on what doesn’t fit. Rely on your instinct. You need to start listening to your animal. It will sense danger way before you see it coming,” Grant told her as he continued his brisk pace.

Shifters exited their houses, no doubt hearing the commotion, and greeted Grant with nods. He immediately told them to remain in their homes, and to call if they saw anything suspicious. It was obvious Grant was well-respected as they listened to, and obeyed his commands.

She practiced listening to her jaguar while using her senses at the same time. It was easier than she anticipated.

“I don’t sense anything close, only a faint scent of rot which is masked by the snow. What am I missing?” Cristia asked as he led them through the trees, circling the property.

“You aren’t missing anything. Your nose is sharper than I expected. Have you encountered skirm before?” Grant countered.

Cristia figured that was as close to a compliment as she was going to get from the male, and she knew she better take it.

“No. But I’ve seen what they leave behind, and it’s not pretty. This smell is similar, without the added iron. Are they close?” she whispered.

“No. Based on the faint traces, I’d say they are long gone. What I want to know is whether, or not, the archdemon was involved. If the skirm are solely responsible, then they are on foot, and we can catch up to them. If the archdemon took them, we’re fucked. Those assholes can teleport,” Grant explained as they came out of the woods and headed to the center of pack territory.

Several sets of fresh footprints marred the thin layer of snow on the ground. The spacing and disruption around one set of footprints told Cristia they belonged to Helga because they trailed from the spot where they were standing all the way to Jesaray House.

Cristia had never visited the Grove before, and under different circumstances, would’ve loved to look around their ceremonial grounds, as well as, the pack’s gathering spots. Each pack had a similar set-up, but the Grove was famous for being home to their Omega, as well as, Grandma Flo’s cooking.

A figure twitched in a window to their left, drawing Cristia and Grant’s attention. Grant nodded his head at the small female who stood there with her arms crossed, spatula in hand. Cristia looked past her and noticed several tables in the dining hall, filled with shifters.

“They look so frightened. How can we help?” she blurted.

“Our most vulnerable were stolen right from under their noses while they ate. They should be terrified. These archdemons are unlike any that have come before,” Grant explained as he headed up the steps to a single-level building.

From the outside, it looked like any other log cabin in the area, but on the inside, it was one giant room separated down the middle by a half wall. Cristia swallowed hard against the lump that formed in her throat. The sight of a dozen abandoned blankets was heart-wrenching. Most were tossed aside, but a couple were torn and covered in bloodstains. Her blood boiled to find those responsible.

* * *

A red haze filled Grant’s vision. It seemed their brief reprieve was over. Elvis, the Fremont Bridge troll, killed Cresil, and her twin, Crocell, had remained silent since the incident. From the information Zander shared with Hayden, the Dark Warriors had encountered minor problems with the demon’s skirm and lower-level creatures, but nothing major since that fateful night.

He wanted to tear the vile creature responsible limb from limb. What kind of being took innocent children? Striplings didn’t possess power. That came after they transitioned to adults. What use could a dozen shifter children be to the archdemon?

“Looks like it’s going to be trial by immersion,” Cristia commented, telling Grant she used sarcasm as a shield.

They’d gone from celebrating and having fun to a full-blown crisis in a second flat. Grant wasn’t sure if this female knew what she signed up for, but he took it as a good sign that she remained calm and composed. And, her senses were better honed than the average shifter. The trace of skirm had been so faint that most would’ve dismissed it outright, but she picked up on it right away. He was extremely impressed by that.

The bounce in her step and the eager way she took in her surroundings told Grant she was more than ready to do her part to find the missing children. She wanted to bring them home, safe and sound, as much as he did.

“Stay close to me and don’t get in the way. Allow those who know what they’re doing to do their job. We are the best chance these striplings have of being found before it’s too late,” he barked.

It was a struggle for Grant to keep the horrors the children could be facing out of his mind. He had to remain focused. Otherwise, fear would cloud his judgment, and that would hamper his ability to find them.

“Got it. I’m yours to command, just tell me what to do,” Cristia stated matter-of-factly.

Grant looked over and saw the sheer determination in her green eyes. She wasn’t playing around, and he liked that she took her position seriously. Maybe she was lieutenant material, after all.

“Look around for anything that seems out of place,” he instructed as he joined Ember and Zeke on the other side of the nursery. “Did you two find anything?”

“Blue feathers,” came Ember’s grim reply. She placed them in Grant’s hand while she took out her cell phone. “I’m notifying Orlando and Santiago. Goddess knows where Crocell could’ve taken the children by now.”

“She couldn’t have gotten all twelve striplings out of here without a struggle. She had help,” Grant pointed out. “Helga, and those in the dining hall next door would’ve heard something if Crocell tried to do this on her own,” he added.

“Fuck,” Zeke cursed. “Surely, Lucifer hasn’t resurrected her sister.”

“Doubt it. From what I’ve heard at Zeum, the Lord of the Underworld is limited in his power because he remains imprisoned in Hell,” Ember replied after she finished her text.

Hayden walked through the doorway at that moment and looked around, his form wavering as he struggled to hold himself together. Hayden was the only shifter that could shift into any species, with the exception, of dragons. Dragons came from a different realm and weren’t one of the Goddess Morrigan’s creations.

“I’ve spoken with Zander, and he confirmed Ember’s information. They don’t believe Cresil is back, which means Crocell is out for revenge. That makes her far more dangerous and unpredictable than before,” Hayden offered as he walked around the nursery, his nostrils flaring.

Grant knew he was searching for clues and didn’t want to be the one to tell him there was nothing that could help them.

“So, if she couldn’t have taken them by herself, who assisted her?” Ember asked.

“Cristia and I caught traces of skirm to the east, but it was so faint, I’m not sure if they took the kids. And, if they did help the archdemon, then they masked the children’s scent somehow. I should’ve felt their presence, but didn’t,” Grant added and met Cristia’s gaze.

Her eyes were solemn and she nodded in agreement. Cristia began her own search, and Grant noticed when she bent and picked up a blanket covered in blood then headed his way.

“This blanket smells like the scent I picked up on outside. It’s barely noticeable, and I wouldn’t have smelled anything if I hadn’t accidentally moved it with my foot.”

Ember cursed. “She cast a spell to diffuse their scent. Thankfully, she didn’t do a very good job. Once the fabric is disturbed, their scent is released.”

Several lieutenants picked up various objects lying around, and immediately, the smell of demon and skirm permeated the room.

“She used at least four skirm and teleported with as many as she could take. We need to split up and search the surrounding area, as well as, the city. Crocell will have instantly teleported to her lair, but her minions are going to have to make their way back on foot. That will be slow going with children in tow,” Hayden observed before he handed out orders to his lieutenants.

Grant stepped beside Cristia. “C’mon. We need to pack some gear.”

He sent a prayer to the Goddess that Cristia could handle hiking through the cold wilderness. He didn’t have time to coddle and protect her, even though his body liked the sound of that idea. No, he couldn’t entertain that thought. Children’s lives were at stake, and time was running out.