by Ashley Meira
“Playing clueless isn’t really your game, is it?” She held a hand up when I moved to protest. “You’d be a lot more outraged if you didn’t suspect it yourself. Anyway, you know that the Protean and Garou are way too spiritual and all that shit to actually start ripping their own kind – or cousins or something – apart. Even if this was some kind of vendetta, they wouldn’t mutilate the bodies.”
“Humans. Hunters.”
“See? Not surprised.”
“No.” I sighed, burying my face in my hands. “Just disappointed.”
“Someone you know?”
“Someone my…friend knows. I think.”
“You think he knows it's him or you think it’s him?”
“The latter. I don’t suppose you have proof?”
“Not unless you can subpoena Jack. And you can’t.” June shook her head. “Sorry, sugar. The tribes know, though, which is probably why Prison Dude wants you all dead. Your case is pretty much done.”
“What do you mean?”
“The werewolves caught the group behind it all, right? Jack came to reap, like, four – I think it was four – of them yesterday. Apparently the werewolves have been ripping them up good for answers. Shame I couldn’t peek in, it sounded like a fun time. Well, not for the hunters, obviously.”
“Answers?” I asked. “Why wouldn’t they tell Sullivan if they found the killers?”
“Because he would have stopped them from getting gory, blood-soaked revenge?”
“Fair point.”
“Besides, would you trust hunters if they killed your family?”
“Another fair point. But what kind of answers were they looking for?”
June shrugged, bright stands of her hair slipping over her shoulder like silk. “Jack hears stuff when he comes to collect the souls, but he doesn’t stick around. That’s our business: the souls. Nothing else.”
“Thank you.” I stood up and sat back down immediately as everything around me blurred together.
“Whoa there, sugar,” June said, coming over to steady me. “I think you need to sleep it off. Take my bed.”
If I was more awake, I would have made a comment about her trying to get me into bed, but as it was, all I could mumble was, “I’m okay.”
She rolled her eyes and guided me to the bed. “Reapers don’t need to sleep, anyway, sugar.” The tartan patterned cover felt like heaven as she slid it over me. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a perfect lady.”
“If you don’t need to sleep, why did you rent a room?”
She smirked and gave me a wink. “Beds have other uses, sugar. Now, it’s sleepy time.”
I shook my head but let the scent of June’s lavender perfume lull me to sleep, anyway.
10
The scent of lavender was gone when I woke up.
A quick glance at the clock told me it was almost three in the morning, which told me I didn’t get nearly as much sleep as I had hoped. Another good thing about superhuman regeneration was the lack of effect alcohol had on my body, so there was no drowsiness or hangover migraine to stop me from getting out of bed. No, my laziness did that all by itself. I stretched languidly and basked in the comfort engulfing me. Seriously, it was so warm here. The only thing that would make this better is Alex.
I sat up. Shit, I totally forgot.
Getting out of bed, I surveyed the room. June was gone, or at least appeared to be. Reapers were able to make themselves invisible, but I wasn’t sure if it only worked when they were “on active duty.” I called out, asking if she was in here peeping. There was no reply. It didn’t make me feel better, but I didn’t think anything would until this case was solved and I was back in Haven with Alex. Preferably without him hating me for turning in his friend.
The thought weighed heavily on me, taking the strength out of my legs. I sat back on the bed and ran a hand through my hair, wincing as I hit a tangled mass of knots. Alex told me it hadn’t taken him long to know I hated being in the dark. Well, it hadn’t taken me long to know he was a big stickler for the rules. Alex was honorable and just. He would understand, wouldn’t he? He’d believe me, right?
I thought about the way he acted with Marshall, and with me, at the prison, and my already shaky confidence crumbled to dust. It took another fifteen minutes for me to stand up without feeling like the world was collapsing in on me. My eyes drifted over to the nightstand where a piece of paper with my name sat.
Hope things work out with your kind of, sort of boyfriend. If they don’t, and you wanna have some fun, call me! 555-0828. XOXO June
Cool. Guess she really was the best part of this trip. Pocketing the note, I exited the inn, keeping an eye out for a flash of wild blue hair against the dim mood lighting. There was none, I noted with a bit of disappointment as I exited the inn. She was the first reaper I’d ever met, and so far, I was impressed. If all reapers were as chill as her, we’d get along fine.
The pre-dawn air was even colder than it had been last night. I hadn’t brought a jacket with me that afternoon because I expected to be back at Sullivan’s before nightfall and because I was so, so smart. I rubbed my arms for warmth and began walking down the street. The nap and cold air served well in clearing my thoughts, and I found myself mellowed out as I stared at the ocean of stars. Dovesport really was a beautiful city – an eternal garden, the ocean, clear skies… It was the type of place I would have loved to live in. Too bad every time I thought of it, my heart would drop into my stomach as I fought back tears.
I fished around for my phone but couldn’t find it, which meant I either left it at the hospital, or the Garou took it when they knocked me out. Fan-fucking-tastic. My gun was missing, too, along with its holster. Well, it’s not like I was in the mood to speak to anyone. And even without a gun, I still had magic to defend myself. I continued my moonlit stroll.
Thanks to June, I was now positive Wright and Tom were involved in the killings. And if the werewolves killed the rest of Tom’s group, then they were the only two left. I had to get them to talk. But how? It would take too long to create a truth serum, and how was I supposed to get them to take it? The serum was too disgusting to slip into someone’s drink without them noticing. Another way would be to gather evidence so they could at least be detained, but what evidence was there? I could tell Sullivan what I knew, but what if he didn’t believe me and told Wright? And if I told Alex without solid proof, he’d freak out.
“Going somewhere, ma’am?”
Apparently, I managed to walk all the way to the wall surrounding the city without realizing it. The guard peered at me as I let the realization sink in.
“Have I seen you somewhere before?” he asked.
“I don’t think so,” I said with a half-hearted shrug. “I just wanted to get some fresh air.”
“At this time of night?”
“It’s extra fresh right now.” A blast of pre-winter air proved my point, rushing past us as I finished the sentence.
He nodded. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but with all the recent incidents, only hunters are allowed past the walls at night.”
“I am a hunter.”
“I don’t see any weapons, though. Sorry, but it’s policy–” He cut off, his eyes wide as he stared at the electricity crackling around my outstretched hand.
I gave him a polite smile, “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
“R-right.” He stepped aside. “Um, be careful, ma’am.”
“Thanks.”
I’d had no intentions of going beyond the walls when I left the inn, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to think in the stillness of nature. I’d stay close to the walls to avoid getting eaten by shifters or werewolves. Or titans – though that would be kind of cool. And terrifying. Mostly terrifying.
The forest looked spooky at night, but it also looked magical. There were lights around the walls. Those, coupled with the nearly round moon, made the bare trees look almost white, like naked figures frozen in the middle of a writhing dance. It was silent here, the only sounds were th
e soft scuffing my boots made as I wandered closer to the woods. Traces of pine filled the air the closer I got, overwhelmed by the scent of wood and dirt. This was usually the part in horror movies where the dumbass who decided to wander around the creepy forest alone got dragged off or murdered. The thought made me stop, the tip of my boots right in front of the earthen ground of the forest. Bad things came in threes, and the last two visits I paid these woods caused me nothing but pain and sadness. Did I really want to tempt fate again?
I stood on the border, unable to decide. At least Marshall’s words made sense now. It was no wonder he wanted to rip us apart after what those hunters did to his wife. I never knew her and even I wanted to wring Wright’s neck. But if Wright was involved, why hadn’t he been captured? The answer to that and the rest of my questions laid in the hands of the Garou. And possibly the shifters, since Marshall knew what was going on.
Someone cleared their throat and my heart leapt in my chest. My hands glowed white as I prepared to throw some ice spears. A shadowy figure stepped out from behind one of the trees and leaned against it.
“I mean you no harm. Or however they say it,” the figure called, its voice young and masculine.
The glow around my hands faded but didn’t disappear. There was no way I was letting my guard down after everything that had happened. I scanned him with my magic, trying to get a feel for what he was. His aura howled at me, a sharp, keening wail that shook me to my bones. Werewolf. A young one, if he let me read him so easily. Had he tracked me from their dungeon? If so, the “do no harm” thing wasn’t going to fly.
I took a step back. “Who are you?”
“Who are you?” His reaction betrayed his youth even more. He continued on, excitement laced in his voice. “Actually, never mind. Dumb question. I know who you are. You’re my–”
I couldn’t see anything about him beyond the fact that he was maybe five eleven or six feet tall, and I wasn’t about to send any ghost lights over so I could check him out.
“Your…?” I said.
“Um, target? Not in the whole ‘I’m going to eat you’ kind of way. More like the ‘I’m supposed to find you’ way. No eating, I promise.” He raised up his shadowy arms in a gesture of innocence.
“It’s kind of hard to trust someone whose face I can’t see,” I called.
“It’s kind of hard to step forward when your hands are glowing.”
“I could hit you from this distance, too.”
“Yeah,” he said, “you’re really not making a case here.”
“You’re practically magicproof,” I said. “It won’t kill you.”
“From what I hear about witches, getting your head cut off won’t kill you, but I’m sure you don’t want to go through the experience.”
“I…have no idea if that would actually kill me or not.” That was something to research and definitely not test out. “And that’s not a witch thing.”
“Really? Well, I promise not to rip your head off, then.”
“Not helping, but if you come out, I’ll stop the magic.” That was probably a bad thing to promise, and this time I didn’t even have booze, meds, or Alex to blame it on.
“No offense, but you do realize that means, like, nothing at all, right?”
“So, we’re just gonna talk like this?”
The figure shrugged. “It’s working so far.”
“How do you figure?”
“Neither of us are dead yet.”
“That would be just as true if you showed yourself.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” I raised a brow. Was this how all tribal Garou acted?
“I’ve seen my– the shaman do some pretty freaky things with her magic, so…”
“How old are you?”
“How old are you?”
“Dude, work with me.” I rolled my eyes but kept the magic flowing. He didn’t seem to be a danger, but I wasn’t letting my guard down yet. When he didn’t reply, I said, “I’m twenty-six.”
“…I just turned eighteen.”
“What’s your name?”
“Morgan!”
My reaction was instantaneous. As soon as the voice behind me called out, I threw a heavy kick backward, hitting something solid before whipping around and shooting a blast of frost forward. It wasn’t strong enough to really hurt, just stagger the attacker so I could get a better look. Once I did, I immediately felt bad.
“Sorry, Alex,” I said sheepishly.
Alex looked up at me, his face twisted up in pain as he clutched his stomach. “Ow.”
“You snuck up on me.”
“Ow.”
Just as I was about to apologize again, the rustle of branches drew my attention, and I turned around in time to see the shadowed figure disappear.
“Wait,” I called.
“Darn bush,” the figure muttered, looking down and presumably kicking at a bush. “You’re not even alive.”
“Plants are living things,” I said. “But evil bush aside, I still want to talk.”
Alex came up beside me, making noise as he walked to avoid getting roundhoused again. “Who are you talking to?”
“A friend,” I said. “Or so I hope. You came all the way out here to find me, didn’t you? Tell me why. Please?”
“Who the hell is that?” Alex hissed. “Why is he sneaking around?”
“Get rid of your grumpy friend and we can talk,” the stranger said.
Alex crossed his arms and glared into the darkness. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Shame,” he said. “I am.”
“No, wait.” I took a few steps forward, but Alex held me back. “Damn it, Alex.”
“I’m not letting you wander off alone again.” He loosened his grip but didn’t let go. “Tell me what’s going on.”
For the love of– “He’s a werewolf and he wanted to talk, okay?”
“A werewolf,” Alex repeated. “Like the werewolves who captured and planned to torture you today?”
“Technically, it was yesterday. And she was the one sneaking around our territory, so we took her. We weren’t going to torture her, though.” The boy sounded offended, as if the idea of them torturing anyone was impossible. Which was weird since they had tortured those hunters. They deserved it if they really were the ones behind this, but still. “That hole’s been sealed, by the way. No sneaking back in for you.”
“Why was there even a tunnel there, anyways?” I asked.
Alex groaned. “Morgan.”
“What? I’m curious; it was a really long tunnel.”
“I know, right? I crawled through it to see where it led and thought it would never end,” said the boy. “We aren’t sure what it’s for, though. Either the kids dug a tunnel to sneak into the storeroom and steal extra food, or they dug it from the storeroom to sneak out, which is stupid because we don’t usually have–”
Alex interrupted him. “Why are you here?”
“To talk…?”
“You kidnapped, tortured, and killed a group of hunters–”
“They were killing us.”
“The hell they were!”
“What do you think?” the boy asked.
“I just–”
“Not you.” He scoffed. “Her. Morgan.”
I pursed my lips at the expectant look Alex gave me. I placed a hand on his arm and gave him the most open-hearted look I could manage. “Alex, I think he’s telling the truth.”
The look of betrayal on his face broke my heart, but not as much as when he ripped his arm out of my grasp, reeling away from me. “Are you fucking serious?”
I held up my hands in a placating gesture. “Let me explain.”
“Explain? You want to justify the torture and murder–”
“Sure, when it happens to your kind it’s ‘torture and murder,’” said the boy. “But when it’s Garou or Protean being mutilated, then it’s just whatever, right?”
Alex let out a slow, deep exhale. “That isn’t what
I said.”
“Enough.” I took a step towards Alex, flinching when he backed away. “We all want the killing to stop, right? Alex, you know that we can’t give up an opportunity to hear their side–”
“Fuck. That.”
“Oh my God.” I gaped at him. “You are being a child.”
“I’m acting exactly like you do when you’re around your father.”
“Fuck you,” I snapped. “That’s different.”
“What’s wrong with him?” the boy asked.
“You tortured my best friend!”
“Not you. Her father. He’s such a nice guy.”
“You know my father?” I frowned. “You like my father?”
“Yeah, he’s cool.”
“Then why aren’t you talking to him instead?” Alex asked. “Why close off?”
“Um, because hunters are killing our kind and it’s sort of rubbing people the wrong way? Like, dude, you don’t want to speak with us because we killed your friends. Why would we want to speak with you?”
Alex was radiating a hateful anger so intense I had to take a step back. “Okay, let’s take this one step at a time. First–” I looked at the figure “–you come out.” I turned back to Alex. “Let’s just hear him out. Please.”
Alex worked his jaw side to side, his lips pursed so tightly I was afraid he’d swallow them. After a bout of silence, he finally nodded.
“Fine,” the boy grumbled as he stepped forward.
He was the poster child for boyish good looks. He had a strong, square jaw, high cheekbones, full lips, and big blue eyes. On his head were soft-looking blond curls. His clothing consisted of a plain t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. All in all, he looked like a perfectly normal boy…that could turn into an uber-sized wolf.
He waved and gave us a polite smile. “Hi.”
Aw, he is the cutest little thing. I waved back. “Hi.”
“Speak your piece and leave.” Alex looked like he was sucking on a lemon.
The boy pursed his lips but forced his smile to remain. “Nice to meet you, too.”
I inched my way over so I was standing between them. “What’s your name?”
His smile widened when he looked back at me. “Tamlin. And I’m not actually the one who wants to speak with you, though I wouldn’t mind a chance to get to know you better afterwards,” he added with a coy wink.
