Elathan half-smiled at that. “I reckon so.”
“I got some sandwiches. You want to eat out here? It’s a beautiful evening.”
“Sandwiches, an accused murderer, perfect for a picnic.”
“Accused attempted murderer.”
He led her around the back of the decaying lodge to a fallen tree. She sat and passed him one of the wrapped sandwiches. “Looks edible enough.”
Elathan took a huge bite. After chewing for a while, he cut his eyes to her. “I appreciate the gesture, but don’t you have a life?”
She unwrapped her own turkey on rye. “I was in the foster system for a few years. After the accident, I was too old for adoption. Besides, no one really wanted to adopt a girl with—” she touched the scar on her forehead. “Brain injuries are not attractive to potential parents. I decided to make a life for myself, a good life. So currently, my job is my life. Right now, you’re my job.”
“Kind’ve a shame, a pretty girl like you with no beau.”
She eyed him. “What makes you think that?”
“Having a late lunch with an old man who’s also a client makes me think that. If you were my gal, I wouldn’t be having it.”
Kayla rolled her eyes. “Maybe I don’t have a beau because men are too possessive.”
“Possessive, hell, I’d just want to be looking at you.”
She felt warmth in her face. Kayla turned away. The sun dipped low, filling the sky with a rainbow of color. “It’s beautiful,” she said.
“‘How beautiful a day can be when kindness touches it.’”
Kayla faced Elathan. “That’s lovely. Who said that?”
“George Elliston. I think the man knew what he was talking about. This day has turned out beautifully.”
Her eyes remained locked with his. Again, she felt her face flush. “Okay, now I really need to get going.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
It took strength of will to turn from his eyes. “Tomorrow night,” she agreed.
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Chapter Eight
Blood sat at a rough table in the old lodge, reloading shotgun shells. He’d found some hulls around the camp, some of them in pretty good shape. His tools were limited. He had a framing nail, a rock, wire cutters, an old hull cut in half to measure powder. Charging the shells was fairly straightforward. It was the shot that was difficult. He had a small pile of silver coins and jewelry. He clipped these apart into shrapnel. Silver was the only real defense against shifters.
His thoughts strayed to Thorn and Oscar. If they didn’t keep their distance, he’d show them how well silver worked against shifters. Blood had no more use for Thorn. His trap was baited. And the private eye—Blood had come to despise the nosey son-of-a-bitch. Still, the jaguar shifter was good at his job and he wondered what Oscar had dug up on him.
He tamped down the last shell, the fourth, not much but better than nothing. Silver, deadly as it was to shifters, wouldn’t be nearly as effective against his true target. With fires spontaneously breaking out around town, he knew his objective was near. Blood thought of Kayla, and her efforts on his behalf. He appreciated that, certainly, but once he tracked his prey down, his court case wouldn’t matter a whit to him.
But would Kayla?
Thinking he was too old for her was academic—he was too old for anyone, really, his arcane studies, his periods of hibernation had extended his life beyond recounting. Given his rough existence, her simple kindness stood out like a beacon in a dark world. Was it more than kindness, something beyond pity, beyond her professional responsibilities? Blood thought he’d detected more in her unguarded glances, the breathless sound of her voice when they were close.
It was pointless to consider. As with everything else in his life, being close to him would only drag her through the fire. He’d lost much to that fire, his only love, his one friend. Why would he curse a beautiful young woman with his presence?
Though following his dismissal, the sound of an engine outside filled him with joy. He glanced at his pocket watch. Was it that late already? He hadn’t put the suit back on yet. When he answered the knock on his door, his heart fell.
“Oh. It’s you. I’d forgotten.”
“Nice to see you, too,” Isabela said, eyes rolling.
There was only one chair in the cabin. She jumped up on the table, picking up a shot shell. “Oo, that feels weird.”
“Silver shot,” Blood said.
“Ugh.” Isabela dropped it. “I know what that stuff can do to shifters.”
“Do you?”
She nodded. “One time, my little brother stuck a dime up his nose. My parents freaked out and took him to The Vet. They thought he might get brain damage. But anyone who sticks a dime up their nose…”
“What have you learned?”
Isabela pulled her phone from her purse. “Not a whole lot. According to her Linked In profile, she did pretty good in law school. Joined the public defender’s office a couple years ago. Blah-blah-who-cares. But here’s the bizarre thing.” She pointed the screen at Blood.
He squinted at the headline. A young woman was found in the middle of nowhere near the Idaho border, apparently the victim of a hit-and-run accident. It was outside a town a little bigger than Ripple, Willowcreek. Trauma to her brain left her amnesic, and the authorities couldn’t track down her identity.
“There’s some follow up. Eventually, they figured her for a girl who ran away from foster care in some tiny town in Washington. But what’s strange is, if she was a teenager in 2004, she’d be at least pushing thirty now.”
Blood raised his brows. “There are benefits to being a shifter.”
“It makes all your mooning at her a little less creepy. Even if she doesn’t look any older than me.”
“Mooning?”
Isabela put the phone away. “It’s so obvious you’re into her, it’s kinda gross.”
“Wonderful to hear.” Blood took out his wallet and handed her a C-note. “Thanks for looking.”
Isabela took the bill and squinted at Blood. “Wait. That’s it?”
“You’d better go before your father gets bent out of shape.”
“Hold on a second. How did you know about that second arson, the one that sprung me?”
He walked across the room and held the door for her. “I got a lot to do.”
“Ah, come on.” She remained sitting. “There’s something going on, and I want in. My folks always hide the shifter stuff from me. But I’m practically an adult. I’m going to have to deal with this stuff pretty soon.”
He angled his head at the door. “Vamoose.”
“There must be something I can do. I know you’re up to something. Please?”
Blood thought it over. Most of the time, he had to trick people into doing what he wanted. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with a volunteer. “Okay, there is one thing.”
“Yeah?”
“How do you feel about magic?”
She gave him a scowl. “If it means you’re gonna get handsy with me, forget it, grandpa.”
He pulled one of the sacks from under the table, and pawed through it. Isabela looked on as he handed her a peacock quill, a sealed jar, and a sheet of parchment. “Come with me.”
Outside, he pointed down the hill. “Do you see that dead tree near the general store?”
Isabela gazed at the view, following his finger. “Yeah, the one that was struck by lightning.”
“I want you to draw this symbol on that tree before sunset tomorrow. You’ll need to find a decent alibi by moonrise.”
She lowered her brows at him. “An alibi? Why? What’s going to happen?”
“With any luck,” Blood shrugged. “Magic.”
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Chapter Nine
Well, this was just crazy. Kayla tapped the edges of Oscar’s report together. Well, two reports, really. The first was an
investigation of Thorn, the alleged victim. The PI had been working for Felicity Malkin at the time. But this was more than backgrounding a new boyfriend to make sure he wasn’t married, a psycho, or a bum. No this was looking into the tract of land Thorn owned. Felicity was building on that land right now. She was also Thorn’s squeeze.
The weird thing was, despite Thorn inheriting a land trust, Oscar was unable to uncover the man’s parents. What he did uncover was a man who wanted Thorn dead. Kayla highlighted the word infanticide. The working theory was that Blood wanted to kill Thorn in order to take his place as the apex of the area, and reunite with Thorn’s mother. She knew that predators in the wild did that. Did shifters?
Maybe not, because Oscar’s next theory was that there was a blood vendetta against Thorn’s family. But that idea seemed shoe-horned in to the fact that Felicity was interested in the land.
It wasn’t until several serious attempts on Thorn’s life were blamed on Sally that Oscar really dug in. The bar and house Sally inherited contained secrets from the past. Sally’s grandfather was in cahoots with Elathan, but double-crossed him. While the early report put the motive on a woman, a chamber beneath Sally’s farmhouse contained gold and the remnants of valuable antiques.
The police theory made the theft of the treasure—which had been looted long before Elathan broke in—the motivating factor for Blood’s crimes. Tapping her fingers, lips pursed, Kayla thought that this was the only way humans might interpret the whole case. Her instincts told her that this convoluted story didn’t quite add up. She had no doubt Elathan was looking for something, but buried treasure wasn’t it.
Especially when Elathan had a bag of gold coins in his possession, enough, in fact, to bail him out. The few coins found beneath the house were ancient, the ones in the bag all U.S. currency. So if looting wasn’t his motivation, what was?
There was a lot about Elathan that eluded her. He was quite the man of mystery. Her stomach went a little quivery at the thought of learning more about him. She still had work to do, and shut down that line of thought.
Kayla sat in her cubicle and removed two objects from her desk drawer. She had found them in another of Elathan’s bags. One was a silver medal with Thomas Jefferson’s face on one side, clasping hands on the other. The coin dealer said it was a Jefferson Peace Medal, something he hadn’t seen outside a museum. He ventured that it was probably a reproduction. The other was a hatchet with a black, glassy head. A Shoshone tomahawk, the dealer told her. He had never seen one made of volcanic glass before.
Handling the weapon, even though it seemed too small and fragile to cause serious harm, made her guts churn and her head spin. Lights flashed behind her closed lids. Anticipating one of her headaches, she put the items away again.
Speaking of headaches, she noted a familiar name in the file. Sybil Auger, also known as The Vet. Kayla had visited her about her headaches, the remainders of an injury she sustained but could not remember. It was Auger who first put forth the idea that Elathan was out to kill Thorn. That Elathan wanted to rein as the apex predator. Kayla wondered what she actually knew about Elathan Blood.
She checked the time on her cell phone. There was plenty of time before her—no, not her date, her dinner meeting with Elathan. Little Crater Lake was sort of on the way anyway.
***
“Hello, Dear.”
Sybil Auger was a prickly character. Kayla always wondered if the greeting was a play on words. The Vet knew that Kayla was a hind-shifter; that she transformed into a deer. Somehow, she seemed to hold that knowledge like a weapon overhead.
Kayla had known The Vet for some time. For as long as she could remember (which wasn’t long at all, really), she suffered from debilitating headaches. She had visited specialist after specialist with no result. It was a patient in the waiting room that recommended Sybil Auger. “You don’t need a specialist. What you need is an expert on your particularly unique condition.”
Auger’s expertise, aside from emergency veterinary services, was shifters. Within a few visits, Kayla’s headaches disappeared. While she owed much to The Vet, the woman’s superior attitude always kept Kayla on edge.
She walked into the log cabin The Vet used as an emergency wildlife hospital. “Hello, Sybil.”
“Having those headaches again? Let’s take a look.” The Vet turned from a cage holding two raccoon kits. The babies had cones on their necks and paws in bandages. “They were burned in that arson fire. The kid who set that ought to do life.”
Kayla decided not to mention that she had helped spring the kid in question. The Vet moved to a workbench and searched for a crystal. Though the dark green stone with red spots looked opaque, it glowed with an inner light as Sybil held it close. The Vet’s thumb pulled down the lower lid of Kayla’s left eye as she peered intently.
“I actually wanted to ask you about a case I’m working on.”
Sybil moved to the right eye. “Mm-hmm.”
“It’s about the grizzly-shifter you said was trying to take over as apex.”
The Vet stepped back. “Elathan Blood.”
“What made you think that? Do you know Elathan?”
Sybil’s face closed down. “Why would you want to know?”
“I’m defending him.”
The Vet’s eyes closed to slits. “There’s no point defending him. Thorn’s behavior created a vacuum. The lummox wanted nothing to do with being apex. If Blood hasn’t come to fill that vacuum, then his behavior makes no sense. He’s obviously mad. He should be locked up, or better yet put down.”
Kayla’s mouth went dry. “Put down?”
“Isn’t that what you do with dangerous animals?”
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Chapter Ten
Blood rode shotgun, taking in the view. The slow sunset painted the sky with a panoramic rainbow. Ahead, the bulk of Mount Hood stood in shadow. Kayla made a turn.
“Why aren’t we taking the direct route?” he asked.
Kayla gave the car some gas as the road angled up. “This is the direct route.”
“Shouldn’t we be on the Mount Hood Loop Highway?”
She side-eyed him. “That’s been closed for decades. Bikers use it as a path now.”
“Guess I’m a little out of touch.”
“Yeah, a little.” She grinned. But as he watched, her face opened up in understanding. “Oh, that’s right. You had a friend who was admitted to the old tuberculosis sanatorium. That’s on the old highway.”
Blood squinted at her. “How the hell do you know that?”
“From the case files. Say what you want about Oscar León, but he’s a damn good investigator.”
Maybe too good, Blood didn’t say.
“You said this friend broke a deal the two of you had,” Kayla pressed.
Blood wondered just how much of his life’s goal had been uncovered. He took in her profile, the long, straight nose, the full lips, long lashes. She was a vision of kindness and caring. Of course she would want to know his true motive. It wouldn’t help with his defense. Something told him she would want to know anyway. “Perhaps over dinner, we can discuss it.”
The road rose up the mountain side, switching back and forth. The land dropped spectacularly from the road, offering a vista of distant mountains and dark woods below. Blood felt himself shiver.
“You okay, Elathan?” Kayla shot glances his way as she maneuvered around the curves.
Blood nodded. “I’m fine. I just get a little antsy, driving up the side of a volcano.”
“I thought Mount Hood was dormant.”
He shrugged. “Even so.”
Blood wasn’t about to go into his experiences with exploding mountains, floes of mud, lava, magma. Not while they were on the side of one he had seen smoking in the aftermath of an eruption. Maybe not ever.
Snow appeared as they reached a higher elevation. It blew across the blacktop like flat ghosts. Kayla slowed the vehicle, eyes concentrating
on the road ahead.
“Watch out for black ice,” she said.
It wasn’t black ice that appeared as they rounded a switchback, but a black shadow that soared before them, eclipsing the moon.
“What the hell is that?” Kayla shouted.
The car passed below it, Kayla fighting the wheel to keep the car on the road. Blood turned to see it behind them, chasing them and closing fast.
“It’s following us.”
She already saw the black form in the rearview mirror and accelerated.
Blood gawked at a shape like a wing that jutted from a black, amorphous mass. It dropped, lower and lower. The engine roared in protest as Kayla gunned it up the slope.
At the next curve, it descended fully, blotting out all the light, smoke billowed, swallowing the glow of the headlamps. His hands gripped the dashboard. The absolute lack of light made it impossible to tell where the thing was. Was it swooping down on them to attack from above, or were they about to plow headlong into it?
The windows went from mirrored blackness to blinding white light. Snow vaporized, becoming blinding steam. Blood could feel the heat through the glass.
“Holy shit!” Kayla shouted. “I can’t stop!”
Blood heard the grinding vibration of the antilock brakes. The car did not slow. Windshield wipers cleared the glass in time to show the guardrail just ahead. He braced himself an instant before impact.
The world spun upside down. Airbags exploded, blocking the view. Blood could feel they were falling. It was a long drop down the side.
Kayla had no protection against the impending crash, either in human or, he suspected, her animal form. She had only one chance. If Blood could shift fast enough.
The mass of his grizzly exploded at once. He felt the silk of his tie become a strangling noose before it finally ripped apart. The seatbelt groaned against his sudden growth, constricting painfully. Six-inch claws made short work of it. Bone and sinew screamed with the abrupt change. His paws shredded the airbag before him. He understood that the seatbelt and airbag holding Kayla in place would do her no good.
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