Page 128 of Tracking Snow

"How?" I ask, the distress in me twisting tighter, like a wet rag wringing me out.

JJ, Ted, and Kai have been tearing this city apart with no clue where our friends went. Almost like whoever took them is so powerful they can tamper with the entire city.

Or just be the most powerful mage this world has ever seen...

"We don’t know," Brexley says darkly. "JJ insists the recordings haven’t been tampered with, but I have some contacts looking them over now."

"You’re sure JJ would know if someone messed with the footage?" I ask.

Red answers, but the words don’t fully land.

Something across the street catches my eye.

The delivery van idles across the street, tucked along the curb between two brick apartment buildings with black iron stoops and dark windows. A resident permit parking sign hangs above it. No loading zone. No restaurant entrance. No open lobby with someone waiting for a package.

Just sleeping apartments, overflowing trash bins, and one white truck with its hazards blinking orange against the wet pavement.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

Red keeps talking. Brexley responds in that low, dark voice of his. Their words blur together as my focus tightens.

No logo on the side.

No company name.

No dented bumper, no smeared dirt along the wheel wells, no taped up taillight or stack of boxes visible through the windshield. Just clean white metal, blacked out windows, pristine plates, and a faint blue permit sticker tucked into the corner of the glass.

It’s parked too far from the curb, taking up more of the narrow street than it needs.

My steps slow.

Red and Brexley keep moving beside me, then a few paces ahead.

I drift off the sidewalk and cross the street without saying anything. Steam curls up from a grate, wrapping around my knees as I move through it. The damp air coats my face. My boots touch down silently on the slick pavement.

An uneasy feeling builds in the pit of my stomach as I draw near to the vehicle.

Behind me, Red laughs.

"Snow, you’re so fast. How did you get over here?"

I freeze several feet from the van. Then slowly, I force myself to turn my head.

On the other side of the street, I’m standing in front of Red and Brexley.

White hair. My face. My blue eyes. The black catsuit I usually wear when I’m out at night, but I’m still in my Lost Girls outfit.

A growl rips out of Brexley even as Red’s smile falters when she looks over her shoulder and sees me.

Brexley’s arm locks across her middle, dragging her against him. Brexley bares his teeth.

"That’s not Snow."

Brexley lunges.

For one frozen blink, all I see is my own face staring down the mouth of a wolf.

Then Brexley’s body splits and reshapes midair, muscle and silver fur ripping out of him in a brutal rush. His jaws clamp around the other me’s forearm.