Secrets in the Moon (Crescent City Werewolves #1)

Chapter Twenty

Cora glanced in the rearview mirror and bit her lip in anguish while her foot pressed harder against the gas pedal of the stolen car. The retreat had already disappeared from view, and it didn't look like anyone followed her. The sigil burned like a brand, forcing her ever onward.

She shouldn't have eavesdropped. At the sound of footsteps approaching the door to her room, she had hurried over, bored and eager for any news. She'd gotten it. Nobody had come inside, but she'd recognized the head doctor's voice while he murmured to the officer outside. Not all the words had been clear, but the urgency behind them was unmistakable.

"Keep a close watch on her. I've just received word they found the crazed man's secret laboratory. It's at one of Davenport's properties. The country manor, I believe. They already uncovered evidence related to her father, and, well... let's keep her isolated for now in case of some last act of magic triggered by these discoveries. Allow no one inside, not even members of my staff."

The vague intimations had ignited the sigil in a way she hadn't felt since Father had disappeared, crushing all willpower with a blinding headache until she gave in and became a puppet to its command: go find him.

Her fingers didn't feel like her own while she gripped the steering wheel, strangling the fine leather in frustration. Her attempts to be noticed and caught by the guards or staff members had all been fruitless, and now here she was, barrelling down the road. She even knew exactly where to go.

The only country property Freddy hadn't sold was Mallow Manor. One of the places included in her bet with Hayes. Hayes. Cora's heart throbbed just thinking about him, but she wasn't hopeful enough to believe he'd find out about her escape in time. The sigil was hellbent on bringing her back to Isaac Marshall, and now it finally had a lead on where to go to begin tracking him. She could feel how the nasty little thing tightened its control with each breath, replacing pain with numbness now that she obeyed it.

It had been years since Cora had visited the manor. Old Man Davenport had still been alive then, and had regularly held hunting weekends for his friends. Cora's father was among those, and she had spent many hours exploring the estate instead of standing with the other wives and daughters while the men shot at pheasants.

The manor itself looked much like she remembered, dour and heavy in the way that only a home filled with generations' worth of relics and furniture could be. Police officers surrounded it while enchanters and detectives worked, oblivious to everything except their pursuit of finding and collecting evidence.

Unfortunately, there were also reporters and spectators cordoned off to either side of the driveway. Cora kept her gaze fixed on the manor ahead, even when the first shouts of recognition were followed by the flash of cameras in her face. The sigil throbbed in time with her heartbeat while she parked and got out, keeping her steps brisk as if she was meant to be there.

Inwardly, she felt like she had stepped right into Hell, but there was no turning back, not even when the officer at the front door held up a hand at her approach. His uniform looked as neat as his blond hair beneath his hat, and his closed-off expression suggested he wasn't about to be swayed from his duty. "Miss, you can't go in. This is a crime scene investigation."

A surge of relief quickly evaporated beneath the weight of the sigil. It pushed words into her mouth and choked her when she tried holding them back. She swallowed hard but gave in before the officer noticed her struggle. "I'm Isaac Marshall's daughter. I was told he might be here, and if he is, I demand to see him immediately."

The officer eyed her and then called inside for the nearest higher-ranked man. An enchanter responded, a tall, gaunt fella who Cora dimly recognized as being one of Enchanter Byrd's underlings. As they murmured to each other in between glances in her direction, her hands convulsively strangled the handle of her purse.