“Fine. You can have one of mine,” he grumbled.
I smiled at Sonar, then nodded to Blake. “That would be lovely. Thank you.” I paused. “But I will get that coffee first, if that’s okay?”
“Fine. This way.”
I gave him a smile and followed him to a small open area that was surrounded by offices. I found the Keurig and then looked through the cupboards above it for a mug. Rows of eleven-ounce mugs, without a fifteen-ounce mug in sight. I wrinkled my nose. Criminal. “So, how did it go with Vincent? Any luck finding a barghest on the astral plane?” I unzipped my pouch and shoved my hand inside, feeling around for a proper mug.
“No.”
Didn’t think so. I set my mug on the counter. “I understand Sergeant Osbourne’s desire to find proof that Stephen’s story is true. It must be har—”
“Stephen’s story could be true,” Blake interrupted. “Just because we haven’t found a barghest, doesn’t mean Stephen doesn’t believe that’s what he smelled. There are other explanations than he’s lying.”
I didn’t speak right away, taking the time to root around for one of my K-cups instead of using the dubious selection the ranger station offered. I was particular about my coffee. “Does Emma know about werewolves?”
The abrupt switch in conversation seemed to catch Blake off guard. He frowned. “No. She’s human. None of the humans here know what we are.”
Finally, I pressed the start button on the coffee maker and faced Blake. “You’re sure? One hundred percent positive?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” A hint of annoyance crept into his tone. “Why?”
I looked down at Sonar. She didn’t move, but something about the way she looked into my eyes suggested she didn’t share the men’s certainty that Emma was in the dark.
“But you think she’s a good cop?” I asked, looking back up at Blake.
The bags of fast food crinkled as he tightened his grip. “Yeah, she’s a good cop. What the hell are you getting at?”
I held up my hands and looked around, making sure no humans were in earshot. “I’m just curious how you and Liam could be so convinced that a woman you both consider a good cop could date two werewolves and still think there’s no way she could know you’re not human.”
“Two werewolves?” Blake echoed.
I stopped with my hand halfway to the steaming mug of coffee. “You didn’t know she dated Liam first?”
All emotion left Blake’s face, professional cop facade sliding into position like a mask. “I’m a cop, not a gossip. I focus on facts, evidence, not my boss’s romantic life.”
I snorted then opened the small fridge and helped myself to some cream. Peasblossom thought private investigators should drink their coffee black, but I wasn’t there yet. “Does Emma carry a cell phone on her?”
“Yeah.”
I poured the cream into my coffee. “Can you tell me the number?”
Blake narrowed his eyes. “No.”
“Don’t want me to find out if you and your alpha are wrong about Emma’s perceptiveness?” I guessed.
“What does it matter?” Blake demanded. “Why are you so caught up on whether she knows what we are?”
“Because if she knows, then we can ask her more questions.”
“Like what? Liam already asked her about Stephen’s mood, and he was fine.”
“Did he ask her if she saw a werewolf?”
Blake pressed his lips together and took a deep breath, visibly forcing himself to calm down. “You’re a piece of work. Are you that eager to collect on your little favor that you want to see an innocent man punished for a murder he didn’t commit?”
“What fav—” I halted with the coffee halfway to my mouth.
My surprise must have showed on my face, because Blake bared his teeth in what only a very generous person would have called a smile. “Yeah, Liam told me about your deal with Mother Hazel.”
He took a step closer, crowding my personal space in a way not unlike Liam had done earlier. His energy hummed against me, warm and inviting despite his attitude. Thankfully, I wasn’t feel all that fond of Blake right now, so there was no urge to lean closer.
“If you think Stephen’s your ticket to that favor,” Blake said, his voice low, “then you’ve got another thing coming. This hunt you’re on for a witness to prove he’s guilty won’t turn up squat.”
I took a sip of my coffee. “Sort of like your hunt for the barghest.”
Sonar, who had been quietly sitting by Blake’s side, growled at me.
I looked down at her and shook my head. “Don’t look at me like that. Whatever your alpha or your partner thinks, I don’t want it to be Stephen.”
“Maybe not, but you can’t tell me you’re aren’t tempted to sacrifice him to get that favor,” Blake countered. “Werewolf takes a bite out of a dead body, it’s not so hard to convince someone else, even convince yourself, that he did it.”
“Harder than convincing yourself he didn’t, I’d imagine,” I said.
Blake’s face flushed, but I continued before he could interrupt.
“Let me ask you this. Mother Hazel offered me a favor if I could solve this crime. Do you think she meant that she would reward me for a solution, right or wrong?”
Blake paused, shifting the fast food bags to his other hand. He didn’t answer.
“I’m not sure how much Liam told you,” I went on, “but Mother Hazel also said if I fail, I have to quit. She doesn’t want me to be a private investigator, and she’s been crystal clear on that point. So even if I went to her and told her Stephen did it—as you seem to think I’m so keen to do—then it would be in her best interest to tell me I’m wrong.” I tilted my head. “Unless you think she’d put my interests ahead of hers? A falsehood against a truth? Perhaps you think Mother Hazel wouldn’t mind my lying to her, or feel it reflected poorly on her if her apprentice got something so horribly wrong?”
The anger faded from Blake’s expression until he looked more uncomfortable than anything. Even Sonar wasn’t baring her teeth at me anymore.
“Things don’t look good for Stephen,” I said. “I know that. But I also know that none of your pack members will rest until you know the truth. I know that when I return to my mentor, and I tell her my conclusion, I had better not be wrong.”
Sonar’s ears lifted, no longer lying flat against her head. She raised her face to Blake, and he looked back at her for a long moment. Finally, he nodded.
“Fine. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt—for now.” He turned to leave the room. “Best find that bullet.”
I wasn’t going to get an apology, so I didn’t wait for one. Instead, I followed my growling stomach’s lead and trailed after the werewolf with the hamburgers.
Liam wasn’t in a great mood when we got back to his office. “What the hell took you so long?” he asked, eyeing me before shifting his attention to Blake and Sonar.
“We were out getting food,” Blake said, putting the bags on the table. “On our way inside, we found her at Emma’s cubicle.”
Liam’s eyes darkened, and when he looked at me, it took an effort not to step back. “I thought I made myself clear. You’re not interrogating Emma about werewolves.”
I focused on the fast food bags. Blake hadn’t moved to retrieve his food. Or to offer me any. “You were right by her desk,” I said to Blake without looking away from dinner. “Did you talk to Emma before she went on patrol?”
Blake frowned. “Yeah.”
“And did she ask where Stephen was?” I took a sip of my coffee, but my stomach rumbled angrily. Now that there was food, it didn’t want coffee anymore.
“Yeah.” Blake glanced at Liam. “I told her he was trying to contact next of kin.”
Liam closed his eyes and let out a slow breath.
“What’s wrong?” Blake asked, a trace of uncertainty creeping into his tone.
“Liam told her Stephen was canvassing the surrounding area for witnesses,” I said. I wrapped
both hands around my coffee to resist the urge to root through the bags of food myself. “Perhaps if you two had taken their relationship into consideration, you would have realized earlier that that would be among the first questions she’d ask, and it would have occurred to you to get that answer straight from the beginning?”
Silence dragged on, and the room grew so thick with the energy of angry shifter that I considered trying to breathe my coffee. Would have been thinner than the air around me.
When I didn’t say anything more, Liam drew in a deep breath. He grabbed one of the fast food bags and snatched a hamburger from the greasy paper. After taking a king-sized bite, he focused on Blake. “Any luck with the barghest?”
“No. Wince took me to the astral plane three times, to three different locations, but no luck.”
“Wince?” I asked.
Blake didn’t look at me. “Vincent. You met him earlier.”
Ah, a nickname. And not a kind one. My stomach growled again. This time Liam looked at me and arched an eyebrow. He nudged two of the bags of food toward me and Blake. Blake nodded and retrieved a couple of burgers, handing one to me and putting the other on the desk. Sonar rose onto her back legs and nosed the wrapper open. I stared as she wolfed down the burger in two seconds flat. She met my eyes and licked her lips.
“Cheers,” I said, raising my burger to her.
Liam finished his burger and dug in the bag for another. “We need to find that bullet.”
Before anyone could respond, a high-pitched voice rang out from the vicinity of the doorway. “I know where it is!”
Blake jerked around so fast at the sound of Peasblossom’s voice that he slammed his elbow into the filing cabinet beside him. A string of curses filled the air, and he searched the room around him with eyes that looked more gold than brown. “What was that?”
“My familiar.” I held out my hand, and Peasblossom landed on my palm, her face pinched in confusion as she watched Blake rub his injured elbow.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing.” I laid the hamburger on the wrapper in my lap and broke off a piece of meat. “Here, eat this.”
Peasblossom covered her mouth. “No. I don’t like hamburger.”
“You need to eat something.”
“I already ate!”
I narrowed my eyes. “What did you eat?”
“I’m sorry,” Liam interrupted. He pointed at Peasblossom. “Did you say you found a bullet?”
“Yes! Well, sort of. Violet said someone shot her house last night. Some bigjob fired something straight through the wall—something with iron in it.” She paused. “Not just iron. Metal, with a bit of iron. Not enough to burn, but it gave her a headache.” She glared at me. “Tell her we have to go find the bullet now and I don’t have time to eat any disgusting hamburger.”
“Who’s Violet?” Liam asked.
“A pixie.” Peasblossom’s voice held a touch of censure, as if Liam should know Violet.
I put the piece of hamburger down and raised the sandwich to take a bite. Peasblossom didn’t want it, and I knew better than to battle over food. I’d have to wait until she wanted something, then make eating dinner a prerequisite to getting it. “Excellent work, Peasblossom. Did you find anything else?”
Peasblossom leapt onto my shoulder and snuggled up against my neck under the fall of my hair. “No will-o’-the-wisps messed with the wolf. And no one saw what happened. A dryad is lusting after a human ranger. Oh, and a leshy found a barghest tooth.”
“A barghest? Was there a barghest around last night?” Liam put the burger he’d been unwrapping on his desk and leaned forward.
I smothered a groan. If I heard the word “barghest” one more time…
Peasblossom shook her head. “Not last night. There’s a barghest that uses this forest as a hunting ground, but one of the dryads said it’s not his time of the month to feed. She said he ate two weeks ago—swallowed a deer.”
“Barghests eat humanoid creatures, not deer,” Blake interrupted, speaking around a mouthful of sandwich.
“Well, the werewolves are obviously doing a good job of keeping them from their favorite food, then,” Peasblossom said primly. “It ate a deer.”
“Barghests can eat other creatures,” I said slowly. “But other creatures only satisfy their physical need for nutrients. To feed their power, and increase their ability to survive against their own predators, they need to eat humans and other humanoids. If it ate a deer, then it might still hunt for something to feed its power.” I stopped and almost smacked myself. The werewolves needed no more encouragement to believe this particular false hope.
“No one saw a barghest last night,” Peasblossom repeated.
I looked at the rangers. “Blake didn’t find one on the astral plane near here either.”
Peasblossom snorted. “Of course he didn’t find a barghest on the astral plane. What good is a werewolf’s senses on the astral plane?”
Blake bristled at that. “I suppose you can do better?”
Peasblossom’s face wrinkled in genuine confusion. “Of course.”
“What about this bullet?” Liam asked, interrupting before Blake could respond. He snatched up another burger. “Where is it?”
“I’ll show you,” Peasblossom said. “It’s not far. Follow me.”
Chapter 9
“Peasblossom, how much farther is it?”
I asked the question as nicely as I could, but I was dangerously close to snatching the little fey out of the air and threatening to pin her wings together. I wasn’t sure how long we’d been walking. Long enough that her promise of “not far” felt like a lie.
“It’s that tree right up there.” Peasblossom pointed ahead.
I put a hand over my rumbling stomach. If I’d known the walk would take this long, I would have brought my fries with me. “For future reference, this walk did not qualify as ‘not that far.’ It was, in fact, very far.”
“It wasn’t when I was by myself,” Peasblossom grumbled, kicking at the seam of my shirt where it traced the top of my shoulder. “You bigjobs take forever.”
Liam had remained silent the entire walk, scanning his surroundings as if a barghest would appear out of nowhere to clear Stephen. Despite his state of high alert, he seemed more at home amongst the trees, as if he breathed easier out here in nature than in his office, with its stacks of paper and dusty windowsills. If I stared at him, I imagined his wolf inside, relishing the outdoors, looking forward to the next night when it would be free to run, nothing between its fur and the cool night breeze.
Blake kept looking to a spot toward the left. His distraction continued snagging my peripheral vision, until I followed his gaze and noticed police tape marking off a section of the forest floor not far from us.
“Is that where the body was found?” I asked.
Blake nodded. “I’m surprised the tape is still up. Usually the creatures in these woods can’t wait to tear things like that down.”
I craned my neck, but couldn’t see much of the area from here. Not that I expected to find much. The earth had probably already soaked up the blood, and I’d seen the crime scene photographs. Still. “I’d like to examine the crime scene after we’re done here.”
“We’re not incompetent,” Blake said, annoyance plain in his tone. “I supervised that scene myself. And whatever his personality, Wince is a competent wizard who specializes in forensics.” He snorted. “And he’s been working in forensics for years; he didn’t up and decide to—”
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” I interrupted, irritation sharpening my voice. “I’m sure you and Vincent did an excellent job. I’d still like to see for myself.”
“Fine. But do it on your own time. I’m not wasting a day rehashing all the work we’ve already done.”
It was Oliver’s apartment all over again. Liam didn’t want me talking to Stephen or looking around Oliver’s, and now Blake didn’t want me poking around the crime scene. I paused
, forced my mind off that path. No, that wasn’t true. Talking to Stephen was the only thing I’d been outright barred from. I could look at both scenes if I wanted to. As long as I didn’t mind letting the investigation progress without me while I did it, being left out of the loop when new clues were discovered. I frowned. There had to be a way around that. Maybe if I went to the scenes while the rangers were sleeping…
Sonar raised her head, nose twitching as she caught a scent. She took off at a lope, and Blake and Liam immediately broke into a jog to follow her.
“What is it?” I asked.
“That’s it!” Peasblossom announced, pointing to a tree up ahead. “That’s Violet’s house. Hello!”
Sonar was a few feet shy of the tree when a blue light twinkled like a speck of glitter against the pale grey of the trunk. Too late, Sonar reached the towering beech, paws rising as she rose onto her hind legs, sniffing the bark. The blue speck darted forward, and Sonar let out a yelp of surprise.
Werewolves had keen senses, and even in human form, they could scent a chipmunk in the underbrush. But pixies had a gift. A gift for being unseen, unsensed. They were tiny, and unlike most creatures with natural glamour, they could partially mask their scent. Liam wasn’t searching specifically for a pixie, so he never had a chance.
Blake and Liam reached for their weapons. They hadn’t seen the speck. I opened my mouth to call out a warning, but before a sound left my lips, Liam stumbled, eyes widening as he found himself with a face full of blue pixie.
“What the—?” he sputtered.
“Why is there a dog on my tree?” the blue pixie demanded. Her cerulean eyes twinkled like shards of sapphire, glowing faintly with her temper.
“Peasblossom, you haven’t introduced us to your friend,” I said, stifling a smile.
“Violet, this is my witch, Shade,” Peasblossom said. “Shade, this is Violet.” She pointed at Liam and Blake. “And the other two bigjobs are Liam and Blake.”
Violet was six inches in height, the same size as Peasblossom. Her hair matched her eyes, and she wore a dress made of new leaves, so pale a green they were almost yellow. She gave Liam and Blake a once-over. She did not look impressed.
Monster (Blood Trails Book 2) Page 13
