Chapter 124
Elara's POV
I couldn't sleep.
Cole and I sat in the motel room. Two narrow beds. One flickering lamp. The heater rattled but didn't do much against the cold.
I kept staring at the strands of hair in my palm. Dark. Long. The same color as the photos.
Lynette had been here. Right here in this town.
"We need a plan for tomorrow." Cole's voice cut through my thoughts.
I looked up. He was sitting on the other bed, cleaning his knife. Methodical. Calm.
"The kid said to find Old Tom," I said. "Information broker. Lives on the west edge of town."
Cole nodded. "Old Tom." He tested the blade against his thumb. "These types are always dangerous. They sell to everyone. Greyback probably pays him too."
My stomach tightened. "You think he'll sell us out?"
"Maybe." Cole looked at me. "We pay him. He talks. Then he calls Greyback the second we leave. That's how it works."
I clenched the hair tighter in my fist. "So what do we do?"
"You go alone tomorrow morning. I stay outside. Watch for trouble." He set the knife down. "And we don't tell him everything. Just enough to get information."
I nodded slowly. Made sense.
But my mind wouldn't stop racing. Lynette had been running from Greyback. Two weeks ago. Where was she now? Was she hurt? Scared?
Was she even still alive?
I pressed my palms against my eyes. No. Don't think like that.
"Get some rest," Cole said quietly. "Tomorrow we find answers."
I lay down fully clothed. Stared at the water-stained ceiling.
But sleep didn't come.
---
The sun was barely up when I left the motel.
I'd pulled on my jacket and boots. Cole had already left through the back to circle around.
The street was empty. Silent. Just me and the frozen dirt road.
Then I saw him.
The kid from last night. Sitting on the curb outside the motel. His thin jacket pulled tight around his shoulders.
He looked up when I walked out. His eyes were bloodshot. Dark circles underneath.
"You didn't sleep," I said.
He shook his head. Stood up. "Couldn't." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I was going to leave. Go home. But then I kept thinking... what if this is it? What if you're the only person who can actually do something about Greyback?"
His voice was rough. Tired.
"I've asked around for three months," he continued. "Police. Town council. Even tried talking to some of the older wolves. Everyone says the same thing. Too dangerous. Can't touch them." He looked at me directly. "But you're different. You didn't flinch when I mentioned Greyback. You didn't make excuses."
I didn't know what to say to that.
"So I stayed." He kicked at a chunk of frozen dirt. "Figured if I went home, I'd spend the rest of my life wondering if I missed my only chance."
"The girl you're looking for." His voice dropped. "She's your sister, right?"
I didn't answer right away. Then I nodded.
Something shifted in his expression. Pain. Understanding.
"My sister..." He swallowed hard. "Greyback took her too. Three months ago."
"She was ten," he continued. His hands balled into fists. "Just picking through trash behind the grocery store. They grabbed her in broad daylight. Nobody did anything."
I felt sick. "Did you report it?"
He laughed. Bitter. Hopeless. "To who? The police? They said Greyback is too dangerous. They can't touch them." His voice cracked. "So I just... I lost her."
I looked at this kid. Twelve years old. Maybe thirteen. Carrying that kind of weight.
"I'm sorry," I said quietly.
He wiped his face with his sleeve. "That's why I'm here. I want to help you find your sister. Maybe..." He trailed off.
Maybe if we find mine, we find his too.
I understood.
"Come on then," I said. "Take me to Old Tom."
---
We walked through the back streets. Past houses with boarded windows. Abandoned cars half-buried in snow.
The kid led the way. He knew every shortcut. Every hidden path.
"Old Tom knows everything," he said as we walked. "Everyone who comes through town. Everyone who leaves. He keeps track."
"Why?"
The kid shrugged. "Information is money. People pay for what he knows."
We reached the edge of town. Trees started appearing. Thick forest pressing in from all sides.
Then I saw it.
A small cabin. Wood so old it had turned gray. The roof sagged in the middle. Smoke came from a crooked chimney.
Junk everywhere. Rusted car parts. Broken furniture. Stacks of rotting wood.
"That's it," the kid said.
We stopped about twenty feet away. I scanned the windows. Saw a shadow move inside.
Someone was watching us.
I glanced toward the tree line on my left. Nothing visible. But I felt it—that prickling awareness of being watched by someone on my side. Cole was in position.
Good.
"Tom!" the kid called out. "It's me! I brought a friend! She wants to buy information!"
Silence.
Then the door creaked open. Just a crack.
A voice came out. Raspy. Old. "Sam. Thought I told you not to come back here asking about your sister."
The kid—Sam—flinched. But he stood his ground. "I'm not asking for me this time. She's paying." He gestured to me.
A pause.
"Who's asking?"
"Someone looking for family," I said. Kept my voice steady. "I can pay."
More silence.
Then the door opened wider.
---
Old Tom was maybe seventy. Maybe older. Hard to tell.
One eye was milky white. Blind. The other eye was sharp. Calculating.
Deep wrinkles carved into his face. Thin gray hair. Bent posture.
But his good eye missed nothing. It swept over me. Taking in every detail.
"Come in," he said. Stepped back.
The kid and I walked inside.
The cabin was cramped. Smelled like old smoke and damp wood. Papers everywhere. Maps on the walls. Photographs pinned up with rusty tacks.
Old Tom shuffled to a table. Sat down heavily.
"So." He looked at me with that sharp eye. "Another one looking for someone."
I froze. "Another one?"
His mouth twitched. Might have been a smile. "Information costs money, girl. Even that piece."
I reached into my pocket. Pulled out the cash Cole had given me. Set it on the table.
Old Tom counted it slowly. Nodded. "Men came asking about a runaway. Young woman. Dark hair. They were very interested in finding her."
My heart started pounding. "Greyback?"
"Yeah." He said it casual.
The kid tensed beside me.
"They said she was 'merchandise' that escaped." Old Tom's good eye fixed on me. "That's what they called her. Merchandise."
I felt cold all over. "Where is she now?"
Old Tom shrugged. "Don't know. But I heard Greyback set up a temporary base. East side of town. Old sawmill. Abandoned for years."
I filed that away. "Anything else?"
"Yeah." He leaned back in his chair. "You should walk away. Greyback isn't just local thugs. They've got backing. Real backing."
"What kind of backing?"
Old Tom's expression darkened. "Ever heard of Wild Hunt?"
So there was the link.
Greyback wasn't independent. They were Wild Hunt's local operation.
Exactly what the Council's intelligence had suggested.
"I've heard of them," I said. Kept my voice level.
Old Tom nodded slowly. "Then you know what you're up against. Greyback does the dirty work. Trafficking. Smuggling. Wild Hunt takes the profits and provides the muscle. Professional killers. They've got at least fifty confirmed kills between them."
The kid suddenly spoke up. "My sister. Is she at the sawmill too?"
Old Tom looked at him. Something almost like pity crossed his face.
"Kid..." He sighed. "Anyone taken more than a week ago? They're already gone. Shipped across the border. Sold off. You won't find her here."
"You knew," Sam whispered. "You knew this whole time and you never told me."
Old Tom's expression didn't change. "Even if you did—" He shook his head. "What good would it do? Just make you hurt more."
Sam's face crumpled.
I reached out. Put my hand on his shoulder.
Old Tom stood up. "That's all I've got. You want more, you pay more."
I stood too. "The sawmill. How many men?"
"At least a dozen. Maybe more." He walked to the door. Opened it. "My advice? Leave town. Forget about this girl. She's already gone or dead."
I walked past him. Stopped in the doorway.
"Thanks for the information," I said.
Old Tom grunted. "Don't thank me. I'll be counting your money when Greyback finds your body."
I stepped outside. The kid followed.
The door shut behind us with a final click.