The ruins of the old Crescent Vale packhouse were quiet again. Too quiet.
The fires were long gone, the ash cold now, but something about the place still didn’t feel right. I could feel the pulse again, faint and steady, calling from below like a heartbeat buried in the earth.
Jax stood beside me, his eyes fixed on the blackened ground. “You feel that too?”
I nodded. “It’s stronger today.”
Zack kicked at the dirt with his boot. “Whatever it is, it’s right under us. Maybe we should dig.”
Hazel came walking up behind us, brushing dust from her jeans. She had arrived earlier that morning, after I’d sent for her. I needed her help. Her calm mind and her sharp instincts. She had always been good at reading the signs I sometimes missed.
“Digging into burned ground that hums like a living t
