“So this shit lingers even after the shift?” I asked, worry twisting through me. That was bad. Very bad. Usually a shift will heal wounds and it should chase any aftereffects of drugs from the system.
“Yes.” Lip curling, she echoed my words. “The shit lingers after the shift.”
Chewing on that a moment, I stared hard at her.
“Is that all?” she asked.
“No.” Rising, I moved toward the closet that had been outfitted for me to store my gear. I kept her in the corner of my eye, taking a ridiculously circuitous route around the room. But there was no way I was giving this woman my back. “Right before you went night-night in Alabama, did you hear anything?”
She was quiet and I turned to face her fully.
The harsh frown on her face carved deep lines into her face as she rose from the couch. “What do you mean?”
“Did you hear anything? Anything unusual? Anything weird?”
“The air whistled,” she said. That glow was back in her eyes.
Lovely. “Would you recognize it again if you heard it?”
“Yes.”
Taking a chance, I turned more fully to face the closet and used my body to shield the action as I freed the strap that held the Glock in place. I hoped I wouldn’t need it, but she was strung tighter than the bow that waited for me in its case.
“Good.” I pulled the case out and gave her a brilliant smile. “Let’s go outside.”
Damon hadn’t gone far—he was leaning against the wall but as the door slid opened, he straightened, looking at me. “Get what you need?” he asked calmly as Doyle moved to position himself at my side. Guard position. There was a feel in the air he didn’t like either. The boy was becoming wickedly astute. I don’t think Damon quite picked up on the same thing I did, but he wasn’t quite as driven by his instinct the way I was.
“Almost.”
Shanelle stood a few feet away. I gestured to her. “I need her to listen to something.”
Damon had brought in targets and there was no denying they were there for me. He was already doing everything he could to make it easy for me to be at home here—to feel at home.
I could have told him all I needed was him, but when I caught sight of the new gym—something clearly designed more for me than for his wolves—my heart melted.
“Nice,” I murmured.
“Glad you like it.” He folded his arms over his chest. “It’s been…well...” He jerked a shoulder. “I had it ready for Christmas, but…”
He didn’t continue. I didn’t need him to.
But I did wonder.
Had he planned to ask me to move in even then? Back before…
One hand clenched into a fist and I forced the memories out of my head. Moving on, I told myself. I was moving on.
As Shanelle wondered around the room, her mouth a tight, flat line, I put the case for my bow on a nearby table. He’d even gotten practice blades. Ignoring them, I opened the case and pulled the bow out.
Shanelle was staring at me when I turned around.
“Listen.” That was all I said when I chose a target. The gym was long and skinny, definitely long enough for a lazy round of target practice, although I tended to prefer moving targets. I didn’t need one for this demonstration.
Shanelle’s frown deepened as I let one single arrow fly.
She sucked in a breath.
“That the sound?”
Her gaze shifted to me. That was the only movement she made for a span of tense seconds. She stared at me like she wanted to see straight through me—or maybe inside me. Remove the layers of skin and bone and peer at everything. It was an unsettling sensation.
“Yes,” she said after a taut moment. “That’s the sound.”
Perfect.
We had a pattern, at least. And now we had at least some idea of what the person taking these people down could do—they could use a bow and arrow…and they hunted some big, mean-ass game.
“Have you asked all your questions now?” Shanelle asked, her tone growing pissier by the second.
“Ooooohhhh, no,” I said, shaking my head. Now I needed to ask so many more.
Back in Damon’s quarters, my bow stored, I folded my arms and returned Shanelle’s glare with one of my own. “I need to know more about where you were.”
Damon was in there this time and his expression was thunderous, but he remained silent as Shanelle replied tightly, “I’ve given you this information. I was in Atlanta. I stopped for food.”
“Where?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Vaguely, she waved a hand. “Some dive. Just a dive. You know the kind of place people go if they don’t want to be noticed? That’s why I went. I’ve been through Atlanta before, stopped there before. That’s why I went this time. I didn’t want anybody to notice me.”
“Were there others there? Anybody you recognized or knew?”
She opened her mouth, another biting response on her lips, but then she stopped. “I don’t know. Maybe the regulars? Seems like I’d seen a few of the customers in there before. Like they were just there all the time. But I can’t be certain.”
“What’s the name of the place?” Please let it have a name. Some dives don’t. Legally, they might, but I can’t think of how many places I know by location—the rec club on Bart Street. The bar over on North. The strip club on Green.
My head was already hurting at the prospect of going to Atlanta, but if that was what I had to do, then okay.
“Fangs.” She curled her lip. “It was just called Fangs. Sounds more like a blood bar, but there’s this wolf in the window with these giant teeth, so you know it’s for people like us. Shifters and the like. And…yeah. I might know them. Might not, but I might.”
Fangs. My mind was whirling as I started to connect things.
Fangs. Howlers. Both Icarus and Shanelle had been taken down by arrows—something that would incapacitate them, but not kill. Arrows would be chancier on creatures not vamp or were. But hey…there was drugged booze for that, right?
Lots of loners went through dives like that. Shanelle was right on the money there. People went to places like that because they didn’t want to be recognized or remembered and very often, they weren’t.
“Were you able to eat before you were shot or did it happen on the way in?”
“After,” she said, her voice losing some of the tension. “Why?”
“They watched you,” I murmured. “They were watching to make sure you were alone. That you didn’t have people joining you, people who’d look for you.”
She didn’t respond to that. I took a deep breath. “Okay. One more time.”
She did, and this time with a lot less bitchiness. I committed it all to memory, word for word. When she was done, I asked more questions, trying to dislodge more information or shake free another memory, but there was nothing there.
I’d gotten everything I was going to get.
I actually remembered to say Thanks on my way out the door, too.
I shot a message to Justin to call me and then I called a number I really didn’t like to call.
Call it a personal dislike, but Megan of the Wolf Pack just rubbed me the wrong way. Oh, she was friendly enough, when she wanted to be and she could hold her own in a fight—she should be able to, because she was the Alpha’s right hand man. But we just rubbed each other wrong.
“Better be important, Colbana, it’s late and I got a date with a book and a bubble bath,” she said, her voice blunt.
“Wow. Aren’t we all warm and fuzzy?” I said.
“Yeah. I’m a bunny rabbit. Want to see my teeth?”
I could practically see her baring them. “Nah. If I’d wanted to do dental inspections, I would have gone into dentistry. Listen, when I was there talking to you and the MacDonald, I asked for information on disappearances. You been able to run any of that info for me?”
She was quiet a moment. “Some. Not a lot. Most of what we have is just after the fac
t stuff, because people are just gone. The only wolf we know for a fact that did disappear was Drake—you helped him get out. But he’s…”
Alarm bells screamed inside my head. “He’s what?”
“He’s dead. I had to put him down a couple of days ago, Kit.”
I stopped in the hallway, shoulders slumping as I thought of the angry, scarred man. I’d told him I’d get him out…
Fury screamed inside me. “Why?” I demanded, not hearing the ragged snarl in my voice.
“He was losing control.” Her voice gentled. “The trauma. The attacks. Everything he’s gone through…it all but killed me to do it, but when I went to check on him and see how he was, he didn’t even know who I was. He attacked me. It was me or him.”
Numb shock settled in and I moved over to the wall, leaning against it for a moment before I slid down to sit on the floor. “What…” I cleared my throat. “Did he have family? A wife? Was anybody brought in to try and help?”
“Drake was moving to join the Pack. He was a loner from upstate New York. No family. Nobody. It’s harder for them to hang on when bad things happen. A lot of things are harder when you’re alone.”
Yeah. They were.
“I gotta go,” I murmured. Disconnecting, I lowered the phone into my lap and stared at nothing.
Chapter Fifteen
“He’s not the only one.”
I met Justin’s gaze over the table. It was early—too early, but I’d managed a few hours of sleep. Now I was fueling myself with caffeine. Damon had already stuffed me full of food with a bacon and cheese omelet—he’d all but hovered over me until I’d cleaned the plate, too. But coffee…what I’d really needed was more coffee. I couldn’t get decent tea here. They thought it came in bags.
Justin had joined me at the Lair for coffee and he now sported a nice, shiny black eye. Really, if I’d been thinking straight, I would have kept him and Damon apart for a little longer. Damon could have done a lot more damage—although Damon had ended up scorched and singed around the edges. Sometimes I think they liked hurting each other. Justin seemed quite content with his black eye, though.
“Not the only…what?” I asked although judging by the creeping dread in my gut, I already knew.
“One that died.” His mouth went tight. “Rihall. She was one of the witches.”
“Please tell me she wasn’t the one who’d escaped,” I said, my hands closing into fists so tight they ached.
“She wasn’t.” A vicious smile curved his lips. The look on his face was one of grim satisfaction. There was no other way to describe it. “That’s Lila and she’s staying with the house down in the ’Glades…and Paddy is with her. Between Paddy, Tate and Serene, it will take an act of God or a force of nature to get to her now.”
A soft sigh relief escaped me even as the guilt gathered and grew. “Who was it, then?”
“Teah.” He took a healthy swig of coffee so hot, it had to burn his tongue, but he didn’t show any reaction. “She seemed fine—almost stable. Pissed off…man, was she pissed. Teah was warrior-born. I thought she’d be okay. I went to talk to her yesterday and she’d been found shot through the heart. Bullets.” His mouth was grim, tight. “They shredded her heart to a pulp. I’ve got a friend in forensics who’s going to try to get me whatever info he can from the ammo, but I don’t expect we’ll get much.”
“Somebody is silencing them.”
That meant they knew something—or somebody thought they did.
The idea was enough to turn my gut to stone, but at the same time, it meant we were getting closer.
Was it because we had Saul? Or at least, we’d gotten to Saul. Whether or not he was still alive was anybody’s guess.
“I need to know when Drake died,” I murmured. “Teah died yesterday—we grabbed Saul midday.”
“She died later.” Justin jerked a shoulder. “I haven’t called for the TOD. They should have the time of death soon, but if I had to estimate, I’d say she was killed in the early evening.”
“Enough time for somebody to know something was up with Saul, that he might have talked.”
“Or maybe they were already cleaning up,” Justin said. He stared into his coffee cup. “We just don’t know.”
No. We didn’t. So now we had to dig around for more answers, and ask more questions.
I sipped my coffee. “I’ll call Megan, see when Drake died.”
“Let me handle it,” Justin said. “She likes me more.”
Judging by the curl of his lips, I took that to mean something else. “She likes you or she wants to get in your pants?”
“Hmmm.” He ran his tongue across his teeth, eyes glinting. “I think it’s a mutual sort of thing. Anyway, she’ll be more likely to talk to me. She’ll just screw with you—and not in the fun and sexy, Kit, can I please watch? kind of way either.”
I made a face at him.
He winked at me and then went back to the business at hand. “I’ll go by his house. Maybe I’ll luck out and find…something.”
The lighthearted teasing was familiar, but for some reason, it wasn’t as comfortable as it used to be. He was convinced he still loved me. Hell, for all I know, he still did. I knew there were still feelings there. I had feelings. He’d been my first love, my first lover, one of my first friends and even now, if everything went wrong, I knew without a doubt, he’d be the one person who’d have my back no matter what else was going on in the world.
Damon would always have the clan to think about as well—as he should. That was part of being a leader. He’d be a shitty leader if he put his girl in front of the clan and I knew there would be times when I’d have to come in second place. I knew this and I was aware of it.
The security Justin represented was undeniable. But I didn’t love him. Not like he needed.
Not like he deserved.
And I didn’t know where this was going to leave us.
Forcing my attention back to the matter at hand, I asked, “You think you’ll have any luck at Drake’s? It’s not like he was grabbed there.”
“No. But everything points to this being a job where these people were chosen.” Justin shrugged. “That means they were watched—or at least people knew who they were. Drake, for instance. Somebody knew enough about him to know he wouldn’t be missed for a while.”
“No family,” I murmured, remembering what Megan had told me. “He wasn’t a born shifter, was he?”
“Nope.” Justin scraped a finger across the table. His green eyes were grim. “He was changed not long before the war started. Lost his entire family. His mother was labeled as an NH sympathizer while his brothers became human supporters in the war. They were some of the first to die. He pretty much hated this existence.”
“I can see why,” I said softly. I looked out the window. “Civil war all but tore the United States apart once and civil unrest continued for a long time after. It started all over again when the world discovered us. People never stop finding excuses to kill each other, do they?”
“No.” He pushed back from the table, reaching for the shades he’d put on the table. They were the same metallic silver as the threads on his sleeves and he slid them into place, hiding his gaze.
“How’s the eye?”
The grin on his face was pure evil. “It hurts.”
“Was it worth it?”
His only response was a faint laugh. “I’m gone. Need to get out to Drake’s, then head out to find Megan. I’ll send an update if I find anything at the shifter’s place.”
His idea of anything was the kind of thing that I’d have no luck with. Justin, being a warrior-born witch, could sometimes hone in on acts of violence. It was a long shot, but if he’d ever had contact with Drake’s kidnapper—particularly violent contact—he might recognize something. The right vibe, something. Hell, maybe we’d really luck out and Justin would be able to pluck the right connection right out of thin air.
There were connections.
We just have to f
igure what they were—and where to look for them.
“Okay.” I nodded. “You do that. “
“You need to tell the cats to stay in place. I think they’re safe enough if they stay in the Lair. If you warn Damon that somebody is hunting down the NHs we rescued, he’ll put his best on alert.” He skimmed a quick look around us. “I don’t think I’m dumb enough to try and sneak in here.”
I knew I wasn’t.
“I’ll talk to him.” There was something else I needed to do, too. My skin crawled just considering it, but I had to do it. I shoved back from the table and busied myself gathering up the cups. Aware that Justin was watching me, I went ahead and just got it over with.
“I think I’ll talk to Icarus.”
Justin gave me an appraising stare. “Bearding the vampire in his crypt, huh?”
“Why not? Maybe I’ll get the answer to that age-old question.” I dumped the dishes in the sinks. “Do they sleep in a crypt or does a coffin suffice?”
Annoyed, I stood at the entrance to the Lair and listened while Damon finished speaking into his phone.
“She’s on her way back,” he said shortly.
“Why did she leave?” I demanded.
“Because you just now made it clear she shouldn’t.”
I made a face at him. “Thanks for pointing out the obvious,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. A moment later, Damon brushed my hand away and I fought a groan of pleasure as strong fingers dug at the tension building at the base of my skull. “The other cat?”
“Here. Safe.” He paused and then added, “Physically, at least. His head…”
I reached up and covered his hand with mine. “Give him time.”
Damon dropped his hands and pressed a quick kiss to my neck before he moved away. “I’ll keep my eye out for Maguire. Let you know when she’s here.”
I nodded shortly. “Do that. I have to go. Need to run by my place and then…”
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