Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 83: Caine: Directions

CAINE

I grip the steering wheel tight enough to leave indentations in the leather as Jack-Eye’s voice crackles through my phone’s speaker. My patience—already hanging by a thread—stretches thinner with each passing minute.

We couldn’t find Halloway anywhere. Even Thom couldn’t track him down, much like he couldn’t track Grace. He keeps blaming some strange magic in the area, but I don’t care about excuses; only results.

And we have none.

Which is why we’re in our current situation.

"No, you need to take Spruce Avenue, not Bruce Avenue," Jack-Eye says for the third time.

"There is no fucking Spruce Avenue!" I slam my hand against the steering wheel with a low growl, my vision hazing red for a split second.

The GPS on this car’s dash shows nothing but a maze of similarly named streets in a godforsaken suburban hellscape.

"Well, that’s what Lyre says, and since she’s the one who knows where we’re going—"

I snarl. "If she’d just give us the damn location, we wouldn’t be driving in circles."

A new voice cuts in, Lyre’s sardonic voice bleeding through speakerphone. "Sorry, did I miss the part where I invited the big bad wolf pack to join my rescue mission? You two should be grateful I’m even letting you tag along."

Fenris grumbles in my head.

"What street did you just pass?" she continues, oblivious to her own audacity.

It’s hard to unclench my teeth, but I manage it. "Beech Street."

"Okay, then turn left at the next intersection."

"That’s a one-way street going the wrong direction," I growl, peering ahead at the road sign.

Jack-Eye’s voice returns. "Look, just take a left onto Pine Street, then follow it to Spruce."

I check the map again. "There’s Pine Street and Bruce Street. No Spruce."

"No, it’s definitely Spruce," Jack-Eye insists.

head. The streets in this area follow a tree-naming convention. Pine. Oak. Maple. Spruce

turn onto Pine, driving slowly while scanning every street sign. "There’s

right now,"

the sound of my low, continuous snarling. "Well, I’m looking at a street sign that says

wouldn’t make

the brakes.

"What?" my beta asks.

Who?

"You, Fenris. Get out."

your own wolf

I’m not even manifested.

the block. Find this mythical

and inefficient. Just

doesn’t exist!" I hit the steering wheel again, harder this time. Something cracks beneath my fist.

throat closes up, the words dying there. The thought of Grace scared, hurt, or worse makes my chest feel

new voice

High Alpha? Can I

Both he and Thom have been silent in the

"Who’s that?" Jack-Eye asks.

This is Andrew speaking. The map. I think—High Alpha, can you

tossing it in the backseat. My beta’s voice is distant now as he says, "Whose phone?

The Lycan Beta must be looking at an old map. There’s been construction in this area—they

reasonable words cause my shoulders to roll back and my spine to straighten. I blast the smug feeling in Fenris’s general mental

He scoffs.

"My

Thom pipes up, though his voice shakes a little. "If you look at the street view data, it’s from almost

on the city website," Andrew

over

my beta

Street," I say through gritted teeth. "It used to be Spruce Avenue. Now it’s

guess so, High Alpha.

and put the car back in drive. "So which way on Bruce

the speaker. "I can’t believe I’m surrounded by alleged apex predators who can’t

the

"No."