by C. R. Jane
He spoke like he gave me an order, and I narrowed my gaze at him. “Maybe instead of trying to wrap me in bubble wrap, we should work on convincing the town that I’m not the killer.”
A loud, abrupt knock came from the door, and I flinched in my skin, shifting toward the entrance.
Daxon shoved to his feet, and Wilder was at my side in a flash, a deep guttural growl in his throat.
“Who is it?” I asked out loud, but Daxon had already crossed the room and thrown open the door. He blocked the doorway, making it impossible for me to see who stood there, but from the hurried whispers and deep tone, it sounded urgent.
Wilder’s arm wrapped around my waist, drawing me against him as if he heard something I hadn’t.
“Okay, thanks,” Daxon stated and turned to face us. “Great news. Someone has just been killed in the exact same way Eve had.”
It was hard to think as I made sense of his words, not fully understanding how someone’s death was in any way related to good news. I understood instantly his intended response had everything to do with implying if it was a recent kill, it would finally show the whole town it couldn’t have been me who killed Eve. Except another innocent person had just lost their life, which begged the question, what the fuck was hunting the locals in town?
“Where? Do we know who it is?” Wilder asked.
“Near the woods behind the town hall. I’m going there now.” Daxon answered, already marching out of the room.
Wilder looked down at me. “Stay here, and I’ll swing by later.”
“You are out of your mind if you think I’m staying here, waiting.” I rushed across the room and stepped into my boots before grabbing my wallet and room key. “I’m coming too.”
He shrugged, shaking his head, but he did nothing to stop me. I had to know right away if the murder scene was the same, anxiety swimming inside me. Was it terrible that like Daxon, I suddenly hoped they had been killed in the same manner to prove my innocence?
The weather outside had turned bitter, the wind carrying an icy bite, and bruised clouds stained the sky.
We walked through town, and when we finally arrived at the town hall, I noticed a small gathering of people at the rear of the building. My stomach clenched as I pictured Eve, her throat torn out, her dead eyes holding the terror of what she’d gone through.
I stayed close to Wilder’s side, the crowd parting for his arrival. On the other side of the crowd was a tall, proud patch of evergreens that jutted out of the forest.
My gaze instantly fell to the body several feet away, my heartbeat drumming in my chest. Dread clutched my heart, and breathing came too hard as I frantically scanned the face to see if I recognized it.
“You don’t have to see this,” Wilder whispered in my ear, his hand on my lower back, his warmth doing little to chase away the chill that had settled over my bones.
I stumbled forward, not finding my words, but needing to know if it was the same killer.
Daxon crouched near the victim, his head low, and a low rumble rolling from him telling me that victim had to belong to his pack. It was a young man I didn’t recognize. He had short golden hair, a short beard, and casual clothing. Blood pooled around his throat, the flesh torn open, and I hated that I couldn’t look away from the gore, from the way I could see bone from where it appeared the head was pulled back for easier access. Something sharp like fangs or claws had been slashed across the flesh, stealing the man’s life.
Just as it had Eve’s. The killing was too similar to not be the same killer. Both murdered the same way, both not too far from the woods. And by the position of the body, legs pointed toward the trees, one shoe abandoned several feet behind us, I could only assume he was killed in the open and then dragged toward the woods.
But why? To make it look like it was a wild animal and this man had gotten too close to the woods? Did that mean whoever did this lived in this town? I held myself tight, the murder devastating, and with it came the terror that something truly terrifying was watching us.
Wilder stood across from Daxon and crouched down, talking to him with sincerity about the loss.
The more I stared down at this poor guy, the more paranoia flooded me that it might be anyone in town. I glanced around me at the others studying us, dread blanching their expressions. Glancing back, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to breathe in deep, to focus just on the scent with the hope that maybe I’d smell anything familiar from Eve’s murder scene.
With my wolf still blocked inside me, the only smells I got were that of pungent blood, making me sick the longer I smelled it.
I stepped closer to Wilder, who’d stood up from the body. “The kill looks fresh. He’s still bleeding as the blood hasn’t coagulated yet.”
He nodded, his expression strained.
Daxon was on his feet, darkness dancing across his face. “Get her out of here,” he barked at Wilder, then he stormed back toward the crowd behind us, yelling orders. Demanding answers.
The anger in his voice was palpable. Daxon wasn’t someone who openly seemed to show his emotions, but right now, he was furious.
“Let me take you back home,” Wilder insisted, and I didn’t protest but turned away from the crime scene, my stomach churning from the sight. Stopping the tears from appearing for his loss, for Eve’s, was a losing battle, and I quickly wiped my eyes. I hated how I always seemed to feel too much. Even for practical strangers.
Wilder collected my hand in his, our fingers interlaced, and we made our way back toward the main road.
“Daxon seemed really upset about the victim. Who was he?” I finally asked when we were out of earshot from Daxon.
“Asher Turner. Asher lost his parents at eight to wolf hunters deep in the woods, and Daxon had always had a soft spot for the kid who’d lost everything. He helped find him a family to live with and get homeschooling, and even more recently, he helped him get a job in construction. So this is a huge blow to him.”
“That’s horrible.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek, my heart aching for Daxon. I didn’t know if I could ever be the same again after witnessing these senseless murders. I’d seen enough devastation caused by Alistair, but Amarok was a haven for packs and families. It was meant to be safe…or maybe that was just the image I’d painted for myself.
The images of death and so much blood haunted my thoughts, and I pushed down vomit. “It’s the same killer,” I said.
“I believe so too.” His gorgeous green eyes were unfocused as he glanced away, and his hand around mine tightened. “You have to be extra careful around town. I’d die if I found you fucked up like that.” He paused at the edge of the road and brought me around to face him, his hands holding my arms. “Promise me you won’t go out alone at night, or go anywhere near the woods.”
My teeth chattered at the way the fear in his eyes showed through. If a powerful alpha was this scared, then I had everything to worry about.
“How will you find the killer?”
“I’ll set up watchers around town and in the woods and start tracking everyone.”
“I know shifters have amazing senses. I couldn’t smell anything but the blood on Asher, but did you pick up the killer’s scent?”
He frowned as his gaze flicked to the town hall grounds behind me. “That’s the thing. I should have, except there’s nothing there, like it never happened or they made sure to be extra careful to not leave anything of themselves behind.”
I blinked at him and looked back over my shoulder to where Asher lay, a shiver covering me at the feeling of being watched. My gaze darted around, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Everyone’s attention was still focused on the body.
“Let’s get going.” Wilder drew me away from the town hall. We were halfway up the main road when a rumble from in front of us jerked my head up.
Several feet away, Arcadia strolled toward us, her pitch-black hair perfectly styled to fall over her shoulder, her makeup flawless as usual. In her painted on skinny je
ans and her crop top the color of the sun, she looked perfect. As stupid as it sounded, jealousy grew within me to see her looking so beautiful that she could easily be mistaken for a runway model, while I still wore the clothes I’d fallen asleep in after getting high on tea.
We were nothing alike, but then again, Wilder was holding my hand, not hers. Something she noticed instantly, and when her gaze lifted to me, her nose scrunched up with disdain.
“You have really lowered your standards, Wilder.” She practically spat the words at him. “Associating with the town killer. Is this your new kink? How long before you tire of fucking this skank?” She stood before us, her shoulders squared, her lips thinned…hatred beaming out of her gaze like spotlights.
“Fuck off, Arcadia, and get out of our way,” Wilder snarled, drawing me closer to him, his hand wrapping around my waist protectively.
“Everyone knows you did it, bitch,” she snapped at me. “And sooner or later, they’ll get tired of you and then you’ll be gone, or even better…dead.”
Hatred flared across my chest, and I tried to push it down. One thing about Arcadia, you could tell she got off on trying to torment me. Unfortunately for her, I was an expert in dealing with bullies. Alistair had made sure of that. I met her gaze dead on and asked, “I’m curious, how do you comb your hair so your horns don’t show?”
Wilder huffed a laugh, while Arcadia seethed, her face reddening. He drew us forward, having no intention of getting out of Arcadia’s way. “Let’s get a few things straight.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “There is no way Rune killed anyone. For one thing, she was in her room with Daxon and me for most of the day, which was the time Asher was butchered. So how about you really fuck off now and show some respect for his death instead of spreading false accusations. And secondly, if I ever hear you threaten Rune again, you’re going to be the one gone…” He left the last part unspoken, but the message was clear. Holy fuck.
Arcadia’s mouth dropped open, and she seemed to almost curl in on herself as if ready for the world to swallow her away.
I couldn’t deny the satisfaction in seeing her put in her place. After every encounter I’d had with her, to see her practically pissing her pants at Wilder’s warning had me smiling like a mad person. We brushed right past her, leaving her a shaking mess behind us.
“Oh shit, that was amazing. Did you see her shock?” I glanced over my shoulder to where she hurried down the street with her head bowed low.
“She deserves a lot worse,” he said. “And like I said earlier, I won’t let anything or anyone ever hurt you again.”
Butterflies erupted in my stomach. That sounded so fucking good.
8
Rune
“Rune!” Miyu’s voice echoed down the sidewalk as she leaned out of the salon doorway. I’d needed fresh air after spending the previous day stuck in my room at Wilder’s command. And one day was enough. So most of the morning, I’d been on the hunt for a coffee shop other than Mr. Jones’ place, since I was still embarrassed as could be about what his little calming tea had done to me the other day.
I hadn’t been successful.
“Rune,” Miyu yelled again, until everyone who was on the street was looking at her waving her hands around in some sort of weird dance like a crazy person.
“I heard you the first time,” I snarked when I got a bit closer.
“I know,” she said with a wink. “I just felt like embarrassing you.”
“Mission accomplished.”
She snorted and then opened the door. I didn’t work today, so I definitely had time for some girl time if she wanted it.
I’d kind of been…avoiding her. After that whole town hall disaster when everyone had lost their motherfreaking minds, I wasn’t sure what she was thinking about me.
I tried to read her as she led me to a new table set up by the back wall. She seemed perfectly normal though, or as normal as a person like Miyu could be.
“Sit down, sit down!” she ordered as she settled into a seat across the table from me. I belatedly realized what the table was for.
“A nail station?” I asked.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” she said loudly while doing another little weird dance in her chair.
I laughed in delight as I examined all the tools she had set up. There was a bookshelf behind her loaded with what looked like every color of dip and gel polish that the world could possibly contain.
“Do you know how to do nails?” I asked after a moment, and she nodded before pulling my right hand towards her and began to look over my nails critically.
“Yes I do, and we’re going to do your ugly ass nails right now while you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me,” she ordered.
Busted. I tried to open my mouth to lie and deny it, and she gave me a long glare before I could say anything, like she could see right through me.
I promptly closed my mouth without a word.
Silence descended, and although Miyu didn’t seem to be feeling the awkwardness at all, I was definitely resisting the urge not to squirm around in my seat.
Miyu hummed as she swiveled her chair around to grab a bowl, filling it with some kind of pink colored liquid before setting it down on the table and forcing all of my fingers into it. She finally turned her attention towards me and just stared at me as if daring me to speak.
I folded immediately like a chump.
“I just didn’t know how you’ve been feeling about everything. If you felt the way everyone else in this town seems to feel at the moment.”
“You mean you didn’t know if I thought you were a serial killer?” she asked with an impish smile.
The words sounded ludicrous coming out of her mouth, but then Daxon’s face sprang into my mind. You never knew who around you was a killer. I’d certainly never thought he could be one.
“Hey, I was just joking,” she said softly as she patted my arm.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I just got caught in my thoughts for a moment,” I told her, pushing everything I’d been thinking about Daxon far, far away for the time being.
She frowned sympathetically as she gently took one of my hands out of the bowl and began to work feverishly on it, her hands flying around so fast, it was hard to keep up with them.
“You know it’s so stupid how people are acting,” she growled out fiercely. “If I hear anyone say one more thing, I swear I’ll gut them, and I’ve lived around these people for years!” She held up a finger as if she were announcing her vow to a crowd of people, when really, we were all alone in here. I was touched by her loyalty to a girl she didn’t know very well.
“I was at the town hall, I know exactly what they’re saying,” I said with a sigh.
Miyu’s face scrunched up like she was thinking hard. “You know, it’s weird. I remember walking to the town hall with Rae. I remember sitting down and the meeting starting and everyone discussing Eve. And then I remember people starting to blame you. I intended to stand up and call out their bullshit. But I’m not sure why I didn’t… It was all a kind of blur from there. I have this faint recollection of everyone going crazy around me. I mean honestly, I went a little crazy too. I’m pretty sure I pulled Aleshia’s hair out and stuffed it down her boyfriend’s throat…” she rambled. I laughed, and she grinned at me. “But the details are fuzzy. Like I was there, but I wasn’t. Does that make sense?”
I nodded. “It was a strange night. It was like everyone went mad.”
“Sometimes, wolves get frisky and riled up before a full moon and during…but it wasn’t a full moon and it’s never like that,” Miyu mused as she filed away at my pinky finger. Hopefully, I would have a nail left after she was done. I wasn’t quite sure if she was actually paying attention.
Something rolled around in my stomach as I thought about all the ways people had acted since I’d come here. Like that scene in the grocery store…with Arcadia.
I suddenly really wanted to tell Miyu. I’d never had a girlfriend before. At least not since I was a
little girl. And I’d certainly never had a best friend in any sort of meaningful way where someone was your ride or die. I examined her face as she hummed what I was pretty sure was an off-key version of “I’m a Slave 4 U” under her breath.
“Sometimes, it feels like I can affect people’s emotions,” I blurted out before I could think on it anymore. It had been a thought that had been stirring in my mind for weeks now. Something I hadn’t wanted to think about. I really was an expert at avoiding things.
“Like how do you mean?” Miyu said, and in that second, I really loved this girl because there was no judgment in her voice. She wasn’t even looking at me like I was crazy. She was just looking at me like I was…interesting.
“Since coming here, there’ve been a few times where people have just begun acting completely different for no reason.” I proceeded to tell her about the grocery store scene with Arcadia and the town hall and the parents at their daughter’s grave.
Miyu chewed on her lip, deep in thought after I finished. I waited there for a long minute, sure she was going to throw me out or call the loony bin on me. Finally, she gave me a huge, exuberant smile and gasped, “What if you’re like some kind of superhero or something?”
“What? No. I’m not a superhero,” I said with a laugh as I settled back into my seat, and she began to work on my nails again. “I’m probably as far away from a superhero as can be. I would run away from my shadow if it wasn’t attached to me.”
Miyu shook her head as she began to cut away excess parts of my cuticle. “I don’t think you see yourself very clearly, Rune. Or the way others see you.”
She shifted in her chair, suddenly nervous about something. “Obviously, you haven’t told me very many details about your ex or your old life, but I saw the bruises on your neck that day. I heard the pain in your voice. The courage it took for you to get away from him, to come here, you need to recognize that. You need to use that to help build yourself up. Because you should think of yourself as a hero, Rune. Any time a woman decides she’s had enough and she vows to get a better life…she becomes a hero.”
