MacRieve (Immortals After Dark) by Kresley Cole

surveillance and capture spell.”
    “Is the daughter with the Order?” Will asked.
    “We don’t believe so,” Malkom said. “From what we know, Webb disappeared after the prison escape. His daughter had no idea where he was, had been searching for him. My guess is that Webb kept the Order part of his life secret. It makes sense. I’ll not tell my daughter many of the things I’ve done.”
    “Wait.” Will frowned. “If she was searching for Webb, then she does no’ have his location. What’s her tactical value if she knows nothing about the Lore and does no’ have a twenty on her dear ole sire?”
    “Bait,” Malkom said. “Surely she’ll lure Webb in.”
    Will imagined possessing the female, using her to trap that bastard. Gods, the satisfaction . . .
    “The Vertas won’t win her, though,” Malkom continued. “While the Pravus have pooled their money and mystical goods, most of our factions are going to bid against each other. We’re supposed to be allied with the fey? Their king is phone-bidding through that juvenile witch right there. Millions in Draik gold. The witch beside her is bidding for Nereus the sea god. All we’re going to do is drive up the price.”
    Will turned to Munro. “Then she truly canna be won by us?”
    Munro shook his head. “Look, we’ll stalk whoever gets her. We’ll lie in wait for Webb. This is no’ over.”
    Why couldn’t Will get one break? All he wanted was one bloody, viscera-coated moment of revenge. Then he’d find peace in death.
    Filled with frustration, he pinched his nose, none-too-gently manipulating the bone back in place. Ah, that was better. He inhaled deeply, suddenly bombarded by new scents, tens of thousands of them—
    One stood out.
    Something so sublime he was thunderstruck, nearly put to his knees.
    Disbelieving what he’d smelled, Will tentatively raised his head for another hit of that beautiful thread. For the first time in months, he heard his Instinct. And, gods, it rang loud and clear.
    — Yours. —
    He swallowed, had to clear his throat before he could mutter, “It’s . . . happened.”
    “Excuse us, Malkom,” Munro said as he dragged Will away.
    “My Instinct . . . it said . . .” Will could barely form words.
    “I scented her too,” Munro said, excitement filling his expression.
    Excitement? A blind rage suffused Will. Before he could swing, Munro snapped, “While your Instinct is clamoring about her being yours , mine is saying sister. ”
    “Oh.” Will gazed around, desperate to see her, to know what kind of creature could possibly smell that luscious. He’d been wary of finding her before, but now . . .
    “Is it like Da said?” Munro asked.
    Will briefly closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. “The hands of gods,” he breathed. “Aye.”
    “Then let’s find her.”
    Sudden doubt hammered at Will, and he hesitated.
    Munro said, “Look, I ken you’re in pain, but you’ve waited ages for your mate. You’ll never get another one.”
    He shook his head. “I’m fit for no one.”
    “She can help you heal if you just let her. Besides, you’ve taken her scent into you. There’s no letting her go now. No’ without trying first.”
    “I can still walk away,” he said, even as her scent beckoned.
    “Are you no’ about to die of curiosity, man? I bluidy am, and she’s no’ even mine!”
    No, doona get too excited. Will tried to tamp it down. “What if I’m no’ ready for this?” Good and fucked up. “I canna tell what she is, but I sense she’s no’ Lykae.” There was a fifty-fifty chance she was Pravus. With Will’s luck, they could just go ahead and round that up to absolute certainty.
    “Will, do you no’ understand—it’s happened for you. After nine hundred years. What I wouldn’t give . . .” Munro grabbed his shoulders. “It’s happened. ”
    A shocked look between them.
    “Brother, give the lass a chance.”
    With grim intent, Will started toward the source of the scent,