The shell on the back of Leah’s pickup wasn’t locked. If she had a motorcycle to escape on, Sage would be riding away from here as fast as she could go. That seemed to indicate that whoever it was, it was not Sage after all. The motorcycle rider must be coming here because this was remote enough that there wasn’t anywhere else. She was pretty sure that the old shaman who talked to Charles’s grandfather would have tried a witch gun on a skinwalker if he’d had one. But she grabbed the witch gun and tucked it into the back of her jeans. A quick search, during which the motorcycle appeared to be approaching closer, showed her that there was nothing in Sage’s car that would be useful. She broke the window on Sage’s SUV with her left elbow since her right was still sore from Asil’s car. Anna supposed it might be someone else, but the wildlings lived in the most remote corners of the pack territory, so it was unlikely. Not too far away, she heard the sound of a motorcycle and wondered if Sage had planned far enough ahead to have stashed a vehicle to use-or if she had just found it somewhere. “It’s a start, but I need something bigger.” “Come on, come on,” she said, frustrated at the empty vehicle. She wondered if C-4 would kill the skinwalker as well as fire would. But no one but Asil would be able to find it. Knowing Asil, he probably had C-4 stashed in sealed containers along with detonators somewhere in the car. Nor was there any sign that there had ever been anything else. She popped the back hatch of Asil’s Mercedes open with a button and found a barbecue lighter but nothing else. And all he had to do was hold on until she got back. He could take a bear, no matter how big it was. Charles was the bogeyman of the werewolves.
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