Grace of a Wolf-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.

Fenris groans in my head. The streets in this area follow a tree-naming convention. Pine. Oak. Maple. Spruce would fit the pattern, not Bruce. Just find Spruce.

I take the turn onto Pine, driving slowly while scanning every street sign. "There’s no fucking Spruce!"

"I’m looking at it right now," Jack-Eye argues. "S-P-R-U-C-E."

The car fills with the sound of my low, continuous snarling. "Well, I’m looking at a street sign that says B-R-U-C-E. Bruce Street. Not Spruce."

Strange. Jack-Eye wouldn’t make such a basic error.

I slam on the brakes. "Get out."

"What?" my beta asks.

Who?

"You, Fenris. Get out."

"Are you kicking your own wolf out?"

I’m not even manifested.

"Then manifest. Get. Out. Walk the block. Find this mythical Spruce Avenue yourself."

Fenris pauses. That’s childish and inefficient. Just keep driving.

"So is listening to you two argue about a street that doesn’t exist!" I hit the steering wheel again, harder this time. Something cracks beneath my fist. "Every minute we waste is another minute Grace is with strangers who took her from the hospital. Who knows what they’re doing to her—"

My throat closes up, the words dying there. The thought of Grace scared, hurt, or worse makes my chest feel like it’s being crushed in a vice.

A new voice enters the conversation.

"Um... High Alpha? Can I see the map?"

It’s Andrew. Both he and Thom have been silent in the backseat, and I almost forgot either of them existed.

"Who’s that?" Jack-Eye asks.

"Sorry, sir. This is Andrew speaking. The map. I think—High Alpha, can you just let me see your phone for a second?"

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

Not even thirty seconds later, the Blue Mountain brat says, "Oh, I see. The Lycan Beta must be looking at an old map. There’s been construction in this area—they renamed the streets."

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

He scoffs.

"That’s impossible," Jack-Eye protests. "My app is up to date."

"It just means the maps haven’t been updated yet," Thom pipes up, though his voice shakes a little. "If you look at the street view data, it’s from almost four years ago."

"There’s an updated map on the city website," Andrew agrees.

Silence falls over the line.

"Well, shit," my beta mutters.

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

"I guess so, High Alpha. My apologies."

I swallow my rage and put the car back in drive. "So which way on Bruce Street?"

Lyre’s laughter echoes faintly from the speaker. "I can’t believe I’m surrounded by alleged apex predators who can’t follow basic directions."

"Just give us the fucking address, then."

"No."

"Thom," I snap, "Just tell her to give us the address."

The wizard squeaks from the backseat. "M-me? I c-can’t..."

"Hold on, I’m trying to look up the updated map," Jack-Eye says, sounding almost frantic.

Andrew sighs. "I’ll send a text to you, Lycan Beta. Just click on the link, and we’ll get it figured it out on our end."

"A link?"

"It’ll enable location sharing. It takes two seconds, and it’ll be easier to find you that way."

"Wait, really? You can share your—oh, it’s here. Okay. I’m clicking. There we go, and... is it working?"

"Yes," the Blue Mountain pup says, sounding both patient and bored. "High Alpha, go right at the next intersection."

I pull back onto the road. "Tell that infernal woman if she doesn’t share the destination in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to—" freёnovelkiss.com

"—do absolutely nothing because you need me," Lyre’s voice cuts in. "We’re heading to a contact who specializes in finding people who don’t want to be found. She’s on the move. There’s no address. Just shut up and follow."

My hands tighten on the wheel again.

"Fine."

"Hey, beta dog. Hang up the phone. They’re annoying me, and I’m trying to focus."

My jaw clenches as Jack-Eye hastily says, "See you soon, High Alpha," and the line clicks.

The car plunges into silence, only broken by the occasional instruction from Andrew. No arguments over street names, just general directions. Right here. Keep going straight. Left, then the next right.

Simple. Easy.

The kid’s got some promise, after all.

You know, Fenris says, clearing his mental throat, Jack-Eye had outdated information. It wasn’t entirely his fault.

I grunt.

And maybe I was wrong to assume he was correct, he continues, undeterred by my bad attitude. But to be fair, I’m not usually the wrong one in our relationship.

My fingers flex. "That’s a terrible apology."

I never said I was apologizing.