Carpathian 23 - Dark Storm

filed them. Mitro would want to know which women were jaguar, where they lived and
     everything else about them. Their records would have each patient’s address. And whoever
     was doing the filing was touching each and every record and leaving that tiny invisible
     trace behind.
    Her mother and grandmother and all the women who had held gifts before her had given
     those gifts to her for one purpose. This was her moment, her time. She was the one
     who had to point the hunters in the direction of the prey.
    At first, as she casually opened drawers and touched each file, she felt nothing at
     all—and she should have, right? She took a deep breath and let it out, stilling her
     mind, reaching not only with the gifts the earth had given her, but also with the
     enhanced senses her blood exchanges with Dax had given her. Still, nothing.
    She stood for a moment looking up and down the stacks of files, the endless shelves
     of them and the cabinet set near the doctor’s office. This had to be the right place.
     She knew she was right. What was she really looking for? Not the clerk. The shadow.
     The one directing the clerk. The slice of a shadow would be inside that human puppet,
     and Arabejila had left her one more priceless gift—her bloodline. Her blood called
     to Mitro’s. If there was a sliver, even a small shadow in the clerk and Mitro had
     put it there, her blood would know.
    The idea of any connection to him was so repugnant she actually stood there for a
     moment with her stomach twisting into knots. Riley set her shoulders and closed her
     eyes briefly before she reached out and touched the chart on top of the stack waiting
     to be put away. Her veins pulsed. Throbbed. There it was, the tiniest of threads,
     but she could track it now that she had it. It was so faint, barely there, but her
     blood knew him. He couldn’t hide from her.
    Elation swept through her. “I’ve got him, Dax. I can find him now. Or at least the
     one who can lead you to him.”
    Dax and Riordan joined her immediately. Dax put his arm around her and swept her close.
     He leaned down to brush a comforting kiss on her forehead. “I knew you’d find him.”
    “The touch is feminine to me,” Riley corrected. “I have no idea who it is, though,
     but I think I can follow the trail.”
    Even with Dax standing close, she felt the throbbing in her veins, a drumbeat that
     lingered in the touch of the clerk. Riley turned and walked past the doctor’s office
     to the back door. “She goes this way to leave.”
    “Let’s go find her,” Riordan said. “I’d like to know where she lives.”
    “If Riley has correctly identified this clerk as the puppet, you have to know that
     means Mitro is directing her in every one of her actions,” Dax pointed out. “She’ll
     be as dangerous as any one of his ghouls.” He stated the caution aloud, wanting Riley
     to understand they weren’t dealing with a person anymore. Whoever she had been was
     long gone. She belonged to Mitro now.
    “Keep in mind always,” Riordan added, “that this person is responsible for the deaths
     of at least six babies and their mothers.”
    Riley moistened her lips. She knew what they were doing—preparing her should they
     find the woman and have to destroy her. They didn’t want her to feel guilty. She’d
     seen what Mitro had turned villagers into—she really didn’t need the warning—but she
     appreciated it all the same. She knew both men were looking out for her, and that
     was a comfort.
    Dax and Riordan dropped back to allow her to take the lead. Dax scanned outside the
     clinic and deeming it safe, waved his hand to open the back door. Riley found the
     spot where the woman kept her small scooter. It was still early enough that there
     were people on the street. Dax caught Riley’s shoulder to halt her, taking another
     long look around.
    “You catch anything?” he asked Riordan.
    Riordan shook his head. “I don’t feel any danger. I think she’s safe, and we’ll both
     protect her. I’ll keep everyone from seeing us. Let her track the undead’s puppet.”
    “Are you up for this?” Dax asked. “You don’t have to.”
    “I do,” she corrected. “We’re going to stop him and this is the first step.”
    Dax took to the air, holding Riley in front of him, Riordan flanking them, ensuring
     they were shielded from the evening crowd.
    “To the right. Stay to the right.” Riley couldn’t be caught up in the beauty of the