The scary thing was that Cabot nodded to this logic. "I'd kind of like to see him throw Isaiah a couple of times."

  The look Seth gave Cabot made the Thane duck his head and whimper. "I thought about taking him to Albany but can't leave him there, not with Ewan still coping with alpha amnesia. It would be better if we just leave him here with Decker."

  "The Wickers..." Jack started.

  "If we can find the Wickers and eliminate them, then he can stay."

  35: Decker

  Decker woke to the sound of people talking in his house. Normally, not a good sign. Strangers normally came with pitchforks and torches. No smell of smoke though, just cooking steak.

  "Trouble!" Joshua's shout filtered through the flooring from the direction of the kitchen. "Drop it, Trouble!"

  Male laughter followed. Deep voices. Adults. More than two.

  Decker cautiously made his way upstairs.

  There were two black wolves of Boston in the kitchen with Joshua and Elise. They were in human form but Decker recognized what they were. As there were only two in the world, they had to be the young prince and his cousin. The prince sensed him coming before Decker reached the kitchen; he was watching the door. The Thane noticed him because of the prince's focus. Cabot shifted slightly to protect his cousin. The two gave him hard, silent stares.

  "Decker!" Joshua cried when the boy spotted him. He bounced across the kitchen to pounce on him. "Life has been weird today. Well, more weird than normal. The big news is that I really was adopted and my biological father was the Prince of Boston. Who was also Seth's father, which makes him my half-brother, and---" He paused, thinking hard, as he pointed at the Thane. "I'm not sure how Cabot is related to me."

  "My mother was your father's oldest sister," Jack Cabot stated as he continued to stare coldly at Decker.

  Decker's dismay must have shown on his face because Joshua said quietly, "I'm not leaving. I don't want to live with the Wolf King."

  "I'd rather him stay with you as long as you'll allow it," the prince added.

  Relief flooded through Decker. He knew, though, that the prince did not have final say; the Wolf King did.

  "But Seth wants the Wickers..." Joshua trailed off.

  "Dead." Seth knew how dangerous the Wickers were. "It's not safe for him to leave the house while they're alive."

  Elise and the werewolves explained that they'd lost track of the Wicker that fled Utica. They knew that one or more were still alive. The freed puppets reported that the Wickers had been focused on something in the Boston area. The details were too vague for even Clarice to pinpoint their lair. They needed Decker's ability to find the coven and kill them.

  His puppy didn't like the idea of killing people. He edged closer to Decker. "Can't we just turn them over to the police or something?"

  "No," Elise said. "God wants them dead, else he would not have put me in their path."

  "That's one way to see it." Joshua leaned against Decker. Elise made the boy nervous and the whole situation obviously made the wolf unhappy.

  Decker patted him on the head. "You can stay at the house while we hunt."

  "No!" Joshua grabbed his arm. "We're a team! Like the Avengers."

  The Avengers? Well, he did fight with a sword like John Steed. "Does that make you Mrs. Peel?" he asked Joshua.

  The boy tilted his head in confusion. "What?"

  "Obviously before your time," Decker murmured.

  Joshua tilted his head the other direction. "You seriously don't know who the Avengers are?"

  "Apparently not," Decker said.

  "Hold on." Joshua dove across the kitchen. Maps covered the island's countertop. He dug through the papers until he found his tablet. "Let me add it to my list."

  Cabot peered over Joshua's shoulder as he wrote. The Thane read aloud, "Amazing wonderful things that I must share with Decker?"

  Joshua glared at the Thane. "Yeah. You have a problem with that?"

  "I don't," Decker said. "I'm touched. I'll have to make a list. Amazing wonderful things that I must share with Joshua."

  Joshua wasn't sure if he was teasing. "Like what?"

  "Like The Avengers." Decker hastily explained the version he meant, since Joshua obviously had never heard of it. "It was one of my favorite television shows back when my television actually worked. I had a thing for Emma Peel." Elise reminded him of the delightful Mrs. Peel; not that he'd ever admit it to her. He wasn't sure if she'd take it the right way. She was already giving him the oddest look.

  At least the prince had stopped giving him a cold look.

  Cabot tapped the maps spread out on the countertop. They stepped down in scale, starting with New England as a whole and ending with Boston proper. They represented the prince's territory as defined by human borders. "The puppets think that there might be a Wicker here in Boston, creating constructs for their end game."

  "It's a two-step process," Elise said. "The first is weaving together the inert materials. The vines. The totems. It can be made days or even weeks ahead of time if the Wickers have access to large refrigerators like florist shops or meat packing plants."

  "While the constructs are still inert, I won't be able to spot them." Seth swept his hand over the map of New England to emphasize how large his territory was. "Since the constructs can shift through the source of blood magic, they can teleport from any location to any place. The Greater Boston area is most of the eastern third of Massachusetts. The Wickers could be literally anywhere within a hundred miles of here and still be considered 'in Boston.' I won't be able to spot the constructs until they become active."

  "Wait!" Joshua cried. "Is that how the huntsman followed me to Framingham? It teleported?"

  "Yes," Elise said. "If you hadn't gotten on another train, it would have caught you there."

  "And teleported you back to the Wickers in Utica," Seth added.

  "Garland controlled the huntsman," Elise explained. "While it was active, he had a mental connection to it. I've been told it's a very limited vision telepathy, so unless something comes into view that the Wicker can identify, the witch doesn't know where the construct is or who it's interacting with. Since the spell is controlling the huntsman's movements, keeping it on target, Garland must not have seen anything he recognized except me."

  "He knew you?" Joshua sounded dismayed. Elise must have told the boy that she'd killed Garland.

  "He had to know she was Virtue." Decker tried to soften the news. "A beautiful woman with twin daggers is a dead giveaway." Oh, he shouldn't have used the word "dead" as Joshua looked more dismayed. He patted Joshua on the head to comfort him.

  "Either the huntsman didn't see you or Garland didn't recognize you and your sword." Elise meant Decker.

  "What sword?" Cabot asked.

  "The sword I used to kill the huntsman." Joshua tried to measure out the length of the blade by holding his hands as far apart as he could. He was still inches short. "It's creepy and red and..."

  "Can we focus here?" The prince tapped the maps. "Once the constructs go active, I will be able to spot them, but that's too late. The Wickers are invisible to me. Their power isn't from an outside source. Decker, we need you to find them."

  "I can do that." He'd do anything to keep Joshua safe. "I'll warn you, though, my way is tedious."

  "It's better than sitting and waiting for them to strike," the prince stated.

  36: Seth

  Ilya.

  Ilya!

  Seth let the Grigori ride shotgun so he could sit in the back with his newfound brother. He'd had spent a lifetime daydreaming how things would be different if their father had been able to save Ilya as an infant. (Anastasia had to die for Seth to be born. Everything after that, however, was fair game.) Every time Seth got blamed for fights his little brothers started. Every time he had to fork over a beloved toy because he was the oldest. Every time he sat through a boring business meeting in the name of "one day you'll be prince," he'd dreamed about not being the firstborn. Not
being heir. Ilya would be the long-suffering eldest son.

  He'd imagined his older brother would be taller, impossibly patient, and very mature.

  Joshua wasn't the Ilya that Seth had expected. Certainly he wasn't taller and he didn't have the mythical patience that Seth had imagined him to have. (Decker was correct: his method of finding things was tedious.) In certain ways, Joshua seemed much younger than Seth. Maybe because Joshua had grown up as the baby of his foster family instead of the heir. It could be because his life hadn't gone down in flames at thirteen like Seth's. Nor was he constantly under pressure from all sides to be the prince of one of the most powerful territories in the world. It could even be that he'd grown up in a tiny rural town instead of Boston or New York City. When Seth changed schools at thirteen, he'd noticed that the Manhattan kids seemed more mature than those of Cambridge.

  Seth had been worried since talking with Joshua's foster sister, Bethy. She'd made Joshua sound like a coward, running from all fights. An easily frightened child made for a weak wolf.

  Yes, Joshua ran from fights. His bolt from Decker's house, however, had been sheer tactical genius. If Seth hadn't been the Prince of Boston, he wouldn't have been able to keep track of Joshua as the boy charged through Cambridge.

  Nor was Joshua weak. He'd gone toe to toe with a Thane. A Thane! He could look Seth in the eye while he steadfastly refused to be called Ilya. Seth didn't think even Jack could do that. (Seth wasn't sure; Jack rarely said no to Seth.) Joshua would be Seth's heir if he was part of the Boston pack. Only Joshua wasn't.

  Alphas anchored newborns to their territory when they changed a child. Samuels had been part of the New York pack. It had been a miracle that Joshua hadn't gone feral. As default, though, Joshua was packmates with Isaiah and the Thanes.

  It was a small but important detail; one that the king could easily change. Alexander moved wolves from pack to pack all the time. Until he did, though, Seth wouldn't be able to sense where Joshua was outside of Seth's territory. Even within it, Seth could only track Joshua because he was a magical creature like Decker and Elise. Seth had felt Jack get stabbed from a thousand miles away because they were packmates. Seth would have no idea if Joshua was attacked, wounded or even killed.

  How soon would the king return from Belgrade? A few weeks? A few months? Seth had been lost for nearly a month after he became prince. He'd been far from his territory, the Castle had been unfamiliar, and Isaiah had made his life hell, all of which slowed his recovery. The Prince of Belgrade might be facing the same problems.

  When Alexander got back to the United States, would he shift Joshua to Seth's pack? Seth needed an heir who could take Boston. Jack stood as his current heir but it was understood that anything that killed Seth would have to go through Jack first.

  It would be logical for Alexander to shift his brother into Boston's pack.

  Alexander didn't always do what seemed logical.

  The old Marquis of Albany told him that Alexander was waiting for the writing on the wall to change. What did it say to keep Alexander from moving wolves to Boston?

  Seth knew there were wolves that were unhappy with their current situation. For three years he'd trailed in the king's wake, visiting territories scattered over the world. He'd met teenagers in remote territories who wanted to live in big cities. Young people who wanted a wider choice of mates. Wolves stuck near the bottom of a dominance ladder filled with people that they didn't like.

  Boston could take them all. Yet Alexander left the city unprotected.

  Why? The king never explained himself. Until Seth talked with Albany, he'd assumed it was simply because he was waiting for Seth to get old enough. Now he wondered. Yes, he was "married" but Alexander hadn't brought the girl to the East Coast. Seth thought it was because he was only sixteen and there were no other females at the Castle. Isaiah's mother had been very young and that ended badly. Yet Anastasia had still been sent to Boston six years later when she was just thirteen. (That ended badly too but for vastly different reasons.)

  Watching his long-lost brother bounce about the backseat of the Bentley, Seth wondered what the king knew that he didn't.

  His brother had questions of his own. "So this Green." Joshua tapped his fingers against Seth's shoulder. "That's like some forest we're connected to?"

  "Yes, it's our Source. All magical beasts channel power from another realm. An invisible layer."

  "The Kleenexes, yes, Winnie explained that. She says you spy on her when she's sleeping. How do you do that?"

  "Who?" Seth asked.

  "The Wise Woman's granddaughter?" Jack asked from the front. "She has a big plant spirit guide and loves the color purple?"

  "Yeah! Her!" Joshua said. "So how do you spy on her?"

  "I don't spy." The Wise Woman lived in South Boston. How did Joshua even meet her? "At least not in the way you mean. She must be aware of my scanning the city for monsters. If she's using a plant spirit guide, then she's feeding off a power in harmony with ours. I can sense her just as clearly as she can sense me; which is to say not very much at all."

  "But you're in New York when you're doing this---not spying---stuff."

  Decker smothered a laugh. Joshua's look of worried confusion gave way to amusement. Seth found himself smiling with them. The two were a regular Key and Peele together. Seth was starting to understand why Dr. Huff thought werewolves were universally compatible with the vampire. He was comfortable to be around. Maybe it was why their grandfather had allowed Decker to settle in Boston and protected him all these years. Or maybe it was because his grandfather saw the handwriting on the wall. Did he know that Boston would need the vampire someday?

  "Seriously, how does it work? Winnie talks about boxes of facial tissues. Decker says its Christmas lights and the surface of the sun. I see a forest! And...and...wolves who aren't there!"

  "What?" Seth said.

  "When I was in the hospital, I saw Cabot. Sort of. I had a vision of him. He told me to leave---to run. He told me to find you. That's why I came here. I thought that the Prince of Boston would be in Boston! How the hell was I supposed to know to go to New York to find Boston?"

  All focus in the car went on Jack. Their cousin said nothing.

  "Jack?" Seth said.

  "Yes, I could have phrased it better," Jack admitted quietly. "But I thought I was just delirious from the silver poisoning."

  Joshua was now locked on Seth, expecting some kind of explanation. Seth had nothing. If Seth could talk to Jack through the Source, he would have done it to save Jack's life.

  Seth fell back on his training. "We are the Source. We can perceive it because it's as much a part of our bodies as our nose and eyes. We can control it with mindful exercise as much as we can control our breath."

  "This!" Joshua shoved forward his right hand, fingers splayed. "This is not forest!"

  "Yes, it is." Seth pressed his fingers against Joshua's and went to the verge of shifting form. His brother jerked away his hand, eyes wide. "The moment you were bitten, no part of you remained human, not even a single strand of your hair. You became completely and wholly the Source. Most people transform to wolf when they're changed."

  "But---but---but..." Joshua said, "we aren't trees!"

  Seth had never questioned what he was taught. He'd grown up with the knowledge so basic to his day to day life that he hadn't thought to question it. He stared at his hand. Maybe he should. In the meantime, he could only repeat what he'd been told. "We're like the flame of a candle. We wouldn't exist without the Source. It fuels us. We burn bright, able to heal from almost any wound, take any form, radiate light and heat further than we can reach with our bodies..."

  "Really? Like flashlights?" Joshua pointed his finger like he expected light to beam out of the tip. He frowned in fierce concentration. Decker had both hands over his mouth but his eyes danced with merriment.

  Seth rubbed at the bridge of his nose. He hadn't thought teaching a newborn would be this hard. "Only in a manner of spea
king. It's an analogy! My scanning for monsters is a form of radiation. Metaphorically. I'm in New York City but my thoughts can reach Boston."

  "Which way?" Jack called from the front. They were at a T in the road. Seth didn't recognize the area but a quick check with his power showed that they were in Brookline. They had been slowly winding their way around Boston, supposedly triangulating on the Wickers. It was good that Decker had warned them that it would be tedious, otherwise Seth would suspect that the vampire was leading them on a wild goose chase.

  The car was silent as Decker focused on his power. "Try left."

  Jack growled softly at "try."

  "I'm sorry," Decker said.

  * * *

  It took hours and hours, meandering back and forth, slowly working their way south of Boston on the network of back roads that started out as cow paths. Just as Seth was sure that Decker was completely misleading them, the vampire murmured, "We're close. Stop the car."

  They were at the far edge of the little town of Milton. The road they were on was marginally two lanes wide with trees pressed close on either side. Jack pulled off the asphalt onto grass. On the right was a house screened by the trees. Across the road was an old stone wall, barely two feet high outlining a large yard. A white colonial house with a classic symmetrical façade sat back from the road a good fifty feet. A lamppost at the edge of road illuminated its driveway.

  Decker got out of the car, leaving the door open.

  "The colonial?" Seth whispered.

  "It's a Georgian," Decker whispered back. "Named because they were popular during the reigns of King George the Second and his son, George the Third. And...no." He walked out in the middle of the road. They spilled out of the car to follow him. The moon was full in the clear sky, softly lighting the night. The werewolves' breaths misted in the cold air.

  "This way." Decker pointed beyond the Georgian's driveway. In the pool of light thrown by the lamppost, there was low sign that read Thatchwood Nursery and Florist.