Adam was the youngest of Jasper’s councilmen, and Hazel was his fiancée. I’d met them both when I first came to Wolf’s Peak. Each of the councilmen, as well as Annabelle, had chosen a woman for Jasper to meet in hopes he would find one to marry. Annabelle had brought me, and Hazel had come with Adam. After Jasper and I became engaged, Hazel revealed that she was relieved because she was secretly head over heels in love with Adam. It seemed he returned her affections, because not long after, they began courting, and in September they had become betrothed. We’d all been there for the proposal. Weylyn, the neighboring town, was having a fall festival, and Adam had given her the ring there. None of us were more surprised than Hazel, and she’d urgently been in wedding–planning mode since.
We had almost reached the table when we were intercepted by another one of Jasper’s councilmen, Peter, and his wife, Bernadette. Peter was perhaps fifty, and looked every bit his age, with a potbelly and thinning hair. His wife was just as round, but her hair was always piled into a red, frizzy mound on her head. She never seemed to be able to get her lipstick on right, either: there was always some smeared on her chin or teeth. Today it was on her teeth, a bright pink spot in the middle of a yellowed front tooth.
“Hello, dear!” she said, enveloping me in an unwanted, fleshy hug. “You look so lovely. How are you?”
“I’m well,” I said. “Yourself?”
“Splendid, splendid,” she said. She turned to Jasper. “How is your search for your dastardly brother going?”
“Bernie—” Peter said, but she cut him off.
“I was incensed when I found out what he did to you. Incensed, I tell you! You’re the best alpha England has ever seen!”
As England’s alpha, Jasper had dominion over all the packs in the country. He reported to the elders, made up of a collection of werewolves from various countries and regions around the world. It even gave Jasper authority over England’s royal family, an intricate balance of power that led to Jasper and Queen Victoria considering each other equals. According to Jasper, the royal family had werewolf bloodlines going back generations.
“Bernie, not so loud,” Peter whispered to her. He turned to us. “I’m sorry, she’s had a bit to drink tonight.” He looked back at her. “Come on, love. Let’s go find Roderick. I haven’t seen him in hours.”
“Oh hush, you silly man,” she said. “I want to talk to Jasper about this. You need to find Seth. He almost killed you! And your poor wife, too. I can’t believe she had to fight him off. She could very easily have died!”
I was well aware; the scenario had played out in my nightmares countless times since. My stomach began to churn, and the room was insufferably hot. My chest tightened, making it difficult to breathe.
“I’ll be right back,” I murmured to Jasper. “I’m going to get some water.”
“I can get it for you,” he offered.
“I’m going to stop by the loo as well. Give me a moment.”
I ducked out of the ballroom. There were people everywhere, and I desperately needed to have some space. I dodged around until I made it to the kitchen. It wasn’t empty—Hannah, Daisy, and Bridget were there—but it was much better than the rest of the floor.
“You all right, ma’am?” Bridget asked, moving to get up off the stool she was perched on.
I held up my hand so she wouldn’t feel compelled to leave her seat. “I’m fine, simply feeling clustered.”
“There’s a lot of people out there,” Bridget agreed as she took a sip of her wine. She paused as she did so, as if she wasn’t sure she should be drinking during the party, but I shrugged at her. I didn’t care. They all had done so much work to make this celebration possible.
“Could I get some water, please?” I asked.
Hannah reached over and poured water out of a pitcher for me. I drank it eagerly, letting the water cool me. I leaned back against the countertop and grabbed a cookie from the tray. I wondered how long I would be able to stay hidden here until Jasper came to look for me. The juxtaposition of the calm kitchen with the chaotic house made me want to stay here as long as possible.
The door to the kitchen opened and I was sure that Jasper had found me, but it was another man I recognized. It took me a moment to place him. He was the nephew of Jasper’s councilman, Roderick. I didn’t know his name.
“There’s a lot of people out there,” he said with a slight, untraceable accent.
“Who are you?” Daisy asked. She had been drinking as well, and it seemed the wine had made her bold.
“Oh, of course, I’m sorry,” the man said. “Conor O’Cready. Hello.”
“You’re Lord Roderick Melle’s nephew,” I commented.
“I am. You haven’t seen my uncle, have you? I’ve been looking everywhere.”
“Which one is Roderick?” asked Bridget.
“Dark little eyes and a sort of crooked nose,” Conor said.
“He looks a bit like a rat,” I said, recalling my first impression of the man. My face flushed. “I’m sorry, that was rude.”
“No, it’s true,” Conor laughed.
“I haven’t seen him since you both arrived. I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “He’s probably got some poor soul cornered somewhere, bemoaning the state of our country or some such nonsense. Don’t worry.” He examined me for a moment. “You’re the duchess, aren’t you, my lady?”
“Christine is fine,” I told him.
“Whatever you prefer,” he said. He looked around at all of us. “Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? I’ve been pushing through the crowd for over an hour now, and I need a little peace.”
“That’s fine,” Bridget said.
Conor looked at her for a moment. “What’s your name?”
“Bridget.”
“I knew a girl named Bridget once,” he mused. Bridget flushed. Things were beginning to get awkward, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay in the kitchen anymore.
“I’d better be making my way back to the party,” I sighed. “I am the hostess, after all.”
I drank another glass of water and grabbed a few more cookies before I left the kitchen behind me. It must have been at least five degrees warmer in the rest of the house, and the heat hit me as soon as I stepped into the hallway. Truthfully, I wasn’t ready to go back into the ballroom and continue socializing, as much as I enjoyed Hazel’s company. I debated going up the stairs to my room for some respite, but I suspected that I wouldn’t be able to get away with that easily. Instead, I had another idea.
I reached into my pocket to check if my library key was there, and was relieved to find it was. The library had remained locked during the party, as it always was, because there were many journals and original manuscripts and other precious books in there. It could give me a brief place to hide while I found my bearings.
I was on my way to the library when I caught sight of Jasper from down the hallway, and with his brow furrowed and mouth twisted, it appeared he was looking for me. There was no way I’d make it to the library without him seeing me. I tucked myself back toward the kitchen. My body flushed with heat, and my chest tightened again as I tried to squeeze through the guests. I stepped back near the kitchen, about to go back inside when I noticed something odd.
The double doors to the balcony were slightly opened. I knew that Jasper had locked it before the guests came, not wanting anyone wandering out on the steps. The doors were stuck open by snow. My best guess was that someone had opened them, hoping that the cool air would filter through the house. Knowing they should be shut, I went over to close them. I was about to pull the second door shut when deep prints in the snow caught my eye. Concerned that I would be shutting someone outside, I peeked my head out to see if anyone was there.
Across the balcony, I saw a dark lump in the snow. I stepped out, trying to keep my steps inside the existing footprints; my slippers would soak up the cold snow instantly. As I drew closer, the lump became clearer. The cookies slipped from my fing
ers.
I screamed.
Chapter Four
I stumbled backward in the snow until my back hit the cool wall of the manor. A high–pitched sound rung in my ears, and I realized it was coming from me. I stopped screaming to take gasps of frigid air.
There was a rush of people toward the door, and Jasper was the first one to me. He wrapped his arms around me, urgently pulling me close.
“Christine, what is it? What’s wrong?”
I could only point; all words had evacuated my mind. I extended my finger toward the body in the snow. Jasper left me surrounded by strangers as he raced to investigate.
I knew exactly what he’d find; it would be a long time before that image was wiped from my mind. Roderick, lying in snow stained with blood, his eyes open and staring up at the starry sky. His mouth was slightly agape, blood dripping from it and starting to freeze. His body had been ripped open, entrails splattered across the fresh snow.
A few of the other men came beside Jasper to investigate. Their voices were muffled; my head was still ringing and it drowned out their words. At some point Hazel and Annabelle had flanked me, pressing close to me to comfort me and to keep warm.
Conor strolled out with a cookie in his hand, followed closely by Bridget. “What’s going on?” he asked, brow furrowed with worry. He saw Jasper and Adam kneeling down beside the body and he plunged through the growing crowd.
“Let’s me through, I’m a doctor!” he shouted until he pushed to the front of the throng of onlookers. Once he was free he darted across the balcony, powdered snow kicking up behind him.
“Conor, no,” I called out, but it was too late. He saw what I had seen, his uncle splayed in the snow. His face lost all color, but he swallowed and knelt down next to the body, taking his uncle’s hand. He exchanged terse words with Jasper.
Bridget came to join us. “What happened?” she asked. “We were talking in the kitchen, and then I saw a bunch of people rush to the door.”
“Roderick’s dead,” Hazel whispered.
“Not merely dead,” I said, pulling my arms tightly to my body in an attempt at comfort. “He was killed.”
“You’re sure?”
“Would have been pretty difficult to do that to himself,” I said.
Annabelle pulled me aside, out of earshot of the other two. My slippers were soaked through with snow, my toes beginning to grow numb. I couldn’t stop shivering, my teeth chattering together.
“What did you see?” she asked me.
“His stomach was torn open,” I said. “He was attacked by something.”
She was quiet, her jaw square as she watched the men examine the body. “I wonder what happened.”
“I’m not a doctor,” I said, despite my many years helping my father with his practice, “but I don’t think those are wounds a human could inflict.”
“A wolf did this.”
“That would be my first thought, yes.”
Before we spoke of it any further, Jasper stood up. His clothes were soaked through, but he had managed to avoid getting blood on himself. He walked over to the group crowded near the doorway.
“Everyone, thank you so much for coming tonight,” he said. “Unfortunately, there’s been a medical emergency, and we’re going to have to bring this party to a close.”
“Is he dead?” someone shouted.
Jasper’s neck tensed the way it always did when he was irritated but trying not to show it. “Unfortunately, yes. It appears he’s had a heart attack.”
It was a bloody lie, but one that might be believable. From the doorway, it was too dark to see the scarlet stains surrounding the body, or the intestines that had spilled into the snow. Unless any of the guests came to see for themselves, they would be none the wiser.
“We truly appreciate you coming to celebrate the holidays with us,” Jasper continued. “Please have safe travels home. Merry Christmas.”
As the crowd turned to go back through the house, Jasper approached us. “Christine, I want you to go inside with the rest of the ladies and wait for me there. We’re going to call the police here, and after they’re done, I’ll come find you.”
“What are the police going to do?” I asked. “What can they do about a wolf attack?”
He put a comforting arm on my shoulder. “The police are with me, Christine. They’ll file this as a wolf attack, like you said, and let me take care of the rest. But I still have to report it.”
We moved back toward the house. People were filing out slowly, many unaware of what had transpired outside, only knowing to leave because other guests told them. Bridget and I went upstairs to allow me to change into a dry dress and slippers. I set my wet slippers on the hearth in front of the fireplace so they could dry. We didn’t speak the whole time. I was too absorbed in my own thoughts to say anything. Bridget, bless her, didn’t try to force me to talk. As soon as we got downstairs, she vanished to the kitchen to make me a cup of tea.
Hazel, Bridget, Annabelle, and I sat in the parlor, waiting for everything to be finished. I sat on the loveseat, a blanket over my shoulders and a fresh cup of tea in my hands. Annabelle and Hazel were on either side of me, and Bridget had sat in a chair beside the loveseat. None of us were sure what to say.
The police knocked on the door and Mr. Potter, the butler, answered immediately. They spoke in low tones before Mr. Potter brought the two men back through the house. I wondered if the men were werewolves. It wouldn’t have surprised me; I was beginning to suspect nearly everyone in Weylyn was. I would have asked, but I didn’t want Bridget and Hazel to overhear. Although Hazel probably was aware of the existence of werewolves since she had grown up in Weylyn, I wasn’t sure, and now was not the time to have to explain it. I’d have to ask Annabelle. I would hate for Hazel to fall into the same trap I had, of marrying a werewolf without any knowledge.
I looked around the room at the mess the party had left behind. Decorations had fallen and been trampled, and small plates of food were scattered around the room. Many people were still waiting in the entry for their coaches to pull up to the door. I knew that as the hostess, I should be mingling, thanking them for coming, but I simply didn’t have the energy to get up and do so.
“I should—” I said weakly.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Annabelle said, holding me back against the loveseat. “You’ve had a shock. I’m surprised you didn’t swoon.”
“I’m lucky I didn’t,” I said. “In that cold, I would have frozen quickly and no one would have found me until it was too late.”
“That’s macabre,” said Hazel. “Are you sure you’re all right, Christine?”
I sipped at my tea. “Yes. I’m sorry. The whole thing has my head spinning.”
“I believe it. I can’t even imagine,” Hazel murmured.
The image was burned into my mind. I didn’t know how on earth I would sleep tonight. Every time I so much as closed my eyes to blink, I saw it in my head, like a photo. Roderick lying there, mouth agape, eyes rolled back in his head, the whites shining in the moonlight. How long had he been out there? An hour? Two?
He had very little family. He’d be missed, surely, but not by many. It was a saddening thought. I had never gotten on well with Roderick; he’d been a bitter man who enjoyed making others uncomfortable, but this was not an end I would wish on anyone.
Except, perhaps, Seth. That brought me to my next thought. It must have been Seth. Who else could it have been? Who else would be so violent, so angry, so brazen? Roderick would never have wanted a dramatic death, but in the end, his desires didn’t matter.
There was a commotion at the back door and I craned my neck, but from this angle my view was blocked. After a moment the officers came back through, carrying Roderick’s body out. They had covered him in a white sheet, but in the warmth of the house the blood had started to become liquid again. The part of the sheet that covered his torso was now stained bright red, and that brought back the visual of various entrails spilling out
of the gaping hole in his stomach. Blood drained from my face as I attempted to push the image away.
Jasper followed behind them, and this time he was covered in blood, his white dress shirt stained along the chest. “Christine, Annabelle, please come with me.”
We stood up from the loveseat, leaving Bridget and Hazel behind us. We followed Jasper to the library, where the councilmen, Conor, and another police officer were seated at the largest table.
“Is he—” I asked Jasper, gesturing to the policeman.
“Christine, this is Detective Inspector Watson. And yes, he’s a werewolf.”
I darted my gaze to Conor. I had assumed, since he was a relation of Roderick, that he was one as well, but I wasn’t sure. Jasper’s brash tone indicated that Conor was indeed a werewolf.
“Hello,” I said.
“My lady, can you please tell us what happened?” Watson asked.
I nodded as Jasper led Annabelle and I to the open chairs. He sat down next to me.
“I was on my way to the kitchen for some water,” I said, “when I noticed the back door was opened. I thought that strange since I knew we had locked it because the steps from the balcony were icy. I saw footprints, so I stuck my head out to make sure I wouldn’t be locking someone out in the cold. I thought perhaps someone had come out to smoke. That’s when I saw something in the snow, and I went to investigate.”
“Thank you, Christine,” Watson said.
“You did very well, darling,” Jasper whispered to me.
Conor cleared his throat. “I won’t know anything for sure until a thorough autopsy is done, but it appears that my uncle was attacked by an animal, most likely a wolf.”
“There were paw prints that corroborate that,” said Watson. “We’ll be keeping an eye out for anyone with more information on who might have done this.”
“Who might have done this?” I asked, looking at Jasper. “We all know who did this!”
“Christine, we don’t know for sure—” Jasper said.
“Oh, come off it!” I said, standing up. “Of course we do! It was Seth!”
The Wolf's Bait (The Wolf's Peak Saga Book 2) Page 3
