Free Lost in Prophecy: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Ascension Series) (Volume 5) by S M Reine

town,” Abram said, ever the man of minimal words.
    Abel narrowed his eyes at the cathedral. He could see motion through the windows. Probably Levi walking around with some of his lackeys, plotting more cultish evil. Something to do with treating Heaven like a piñata or mixing up a special batch of Kool-Aid or something. “We’ve gotta do something about these people.”
    “I agree.”
    He turned to his son in surprise. “You do?”
    “Yes,” Abram said, cracking his knuckles. “They’ve overstayed their welcome.” There was a threat in his rumbling baritone. He definitely looked a hell of a lot more threatening than Seth ever had. He was a big guy, Abram Gresham, and not a real emotional one. The stony-faced look made it impossible to tell what he was thinking, so it was easy to imagine he was plotting murder.
    Abel approved.
    “Rylie’s not going to want us to do anything.”
    “Is that a problem?” Abram asked.
    “Nope. Just telling you, Mama’s not gonna be happy when she finds out what we’re doing.” Abel hadn’t decided what they were going to do yet, exactly, but he knew that it was going to be something that Rylie didn’t like. Something violent. Something that would show the entire pack, the Apple, and the Scions who the real Alphas were.
    “We’re not killing anyone,” Abram said.
    “Not if there’s a better way.” He needed plausible deniability to keep Rylie from booting his ass to the couch. “I’m not ruling it out, though. Especially if they try to kill me first. ‘Course, the Apple has already tried to kill me more than once or twice. Maybe it’s already fair game.”
    Abram didn’t argue. “We’ll see.”
    It was starting to drizzle. Rain pattered on the leaves above them. Abel’s skin was still hot from the change back from wolf to man, so it didn’t chill him, but Abram zipped his jacket shut.
    Hunting was always harder when it rained. It washed away the scents. Made it tougher to distinguish old and new.
    Could make it more fun, too.
    The door to the church opened and a young man stepped out. He was thin, bronzed by frequent runs through the wilderness in nothing but his skin. He was already shirtless and unbuckling his pants.
    Abel felt a growl rising in his chest. That curly-haired fucker was Levi—the would-be Alpha himself. He was about to change into his wolf form, judging by the striptease.
    He’d be vulnerable while shifting, but Abel would have to move fast to use that advantage. He took two steps before Abram caught him.
    “I’ll take care of Levi,” Abram said.
    Abel frowned. “You sure? He’s big game.”
    “Not that big.”
    That was fine. The open door of the church had wafted the smell of even bigger game out into the forest—the scent of the woman, a strawberry-blond witch, who shouldn’t have been in town. Stephanie Whyte had returned to Half Moon Bay weeks ago.
    Yet she was back again. And she, as high priestess in charge of this branch of the Apple, was the biggest game of all.
    “Fine,” Abel said. “I’ll see what I can do about the others.”
    Abram nodded once and melted into the forest, disappearing as smoothly as any one of the wolves. Though he couldn’t change into an animal, he still had a few tricks of his own. He’d need a lot of them if he thought he could get Levi out of the way. It’d been a long time since a Wilder had needed to hunt a werewolf, and it had never been easy.
    Almost made Abel warm with fatherly pride to think of his son putting a bullet in that wolf’s skull.
    The cathedral’s door shut again. He hadn’t seen who’d closed it. Stephanie must have still been inside, but now she didn’t have her pet dog.
    The fence was twelve feet tall and topped with barbed wire, but that wasn’t anything to deter a determined Alpha. Abel jumped up, grabbed a branch, hauled himself into the top of a tree. He leaped over to the other side without even scraping himself.
    He landed in wet grass that squished underneath