She was staring at him. "You still kill?"
He shook his head. "I haven't killed in years. Jace doesn't allow it, and he teaches all his wolves how to control it." He couldn't believe she was still sitting there, listening to him, showing no signs of fear. A sliver of hope raced through him.
"Jace doesn't believe in killing?" She raised her eyebrows. "That doesn't make sense. I saw him—" She stopped, cutting herself off.
He tensed at her reference to that hellish night. Now that they were safe, he finally had a chance to ask her about it, and hopefully get the information he needed so desperately to clear his pack leader. "What exactly did you see?" He walked over and crouched in front of her again, searching her face. "Tell me what happened that night."
Anguish filled her eyes. "I don't want to talk about it—"
Protectiveness surged through him, fury that she'd been a part of such a horror. He'd seen it once, a werewolf in a killing frenzy, and it was horrifying. "I'm so sorry, Bryn, but I need to understand what happened that night." He lightly rested his hands on her knees and squeezed. "They can't get you. You're safe here." He didn't remind her that she was sitting in the lair of a werewolf. He could control himself. She was in no danger from him. She would never be in danger from him.
"What about Thursday? What about when I go to court to testify?" She looked at him. "Are you going to try to keep me from testifying against him? I saw him kill a woman, Cash. How can you let that go?"
He closed his eyes at her question, knowing she was right. If Jace was guilty, he had to pay for it. But fuck, he couldn't be guilty. Cash wouldn't let himself even consider the possibility. There had to be something he didn't know, something that Bryn could tell him that would make it all make sense. "Bryn, please, I need to know what happened."
"You didn't answer me. Are you going to let me testify?"
He opened his eyes. "I can't let an innocent man go to prison."
Betrayal filled her eyes. "You don't believe me?"
"I believe you're telling me the truth as you saw it, but I want to know what you don't remember seeing. Was there anyone else there?" he asked quietly. "Anyone standing in the shadows, silent, still, but present?"
"No—" She cut herself off suddenly, staring at him.
His fingers tightened on her knees. "What did you just remember?" His heart froze in his chest, hoping, desperately hoping that she was going to tell him what he wanted to hear, what he knew had to be the truth, what only she would know.
"There was someone in the shadows," she said softly. "In a doorway across the street. I barely noticed him because I was watching Jace shift. But now that you mention it, I remember seeing him there, just standing quietly. I was afraid to scream, afraid that I would be next if Jace saw me, so I just melted back into the shadows and froze. The man across the way didn't move either." She ran her hand through her hair. "I forgot about him," she said, confusion in her voice. "I completely forgot about him until now. How could that happen?"
"Some werewolves have a certain level of telepathic power." He tried to keep his voice casual, when his instincts were screaming that she'd just given him the information he'd been searching for. "Did you see his face at all?"
She ran her hands through her hair, thinking. "He was tall. Broad shoulders. Wearing some sort of trench coat."
That could have been anyone. "Anything else? Anything unusual about how he looked?"
She shivered suddenly, and looked at him. "He turned his head once, and the light from the street lights fell across his face. He had a scar on his cheek, a brutal, horrible scar."
Cash bowed his head as relief surged though him so powerfully it almost knocked him down. Silently, he pulled out his phone and scrolled to a picture of Damien, the wolf who had been leading the assassination attempt on Bryn, the one who was Jace's second in command. He held it up. "Him?"
Her face paled, and she grabbed the phone, studying the picture. "Same scar," she said. "I didn't see his eyes, but the scar is the same." She looked up. "Who is it?"
"Damien." Cash stood up, flexing his legs.
Her face paled. "He was there? But he didn't stop Jace."
"No, he didn't. Just like he didn't stop the wolves from killing the police officers protecting you." Cash strode across the room again, and braced his hands on his kitchenette counter, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind. "He was there when wolves killed both times, Bryn. Those wolves would never kill anyone, except to save their own lives. Each one had willingly given an oath not to kill. Damien was there, representing a leader who would give his own life to protect an innocent from his wolves. Despite all that, they still killed, and Damien didn't even try to stop them." He turned back. "Do you understand what that means?"
She looked down at the phone again, staring at Damien's image. "You think he made them do it somehow? With mental telepathy? But how would he control so many powerful predators?"
"I don't know, but he's doing it." Cash ran his hand through his hair. The relief he felt was almost overwhelming. "It's not Jace's fault," he said softly. "He didn't do it." He looked up. "Do you understand? He didn't do it."
Bryn set his phone down. "Jace did do it," she said quietly. "There's no way to prove that Damien made him do it. Even if I testify that Damien was present, it doesn't exonerate Jace."
Cash let out his breath in frustration. She was right. So what now? "You can't testify against Jace. You can't put him away, Bryn."
She stood up. "Neither of us has any way of knowing if Damien really made him do it. I don't know that Jace is blameless. What if he's not? What if Damien's presence means nothing, other than that he was deferring to his alpha? Jace killed a woman. I saw him do it. How can I let her death just go?"
Frustration rolled through Cash. "I know Jace is innocent. Isn't that enough for you?"
"Isn't it enough?" She stared at him as she repeated his question. "How can you ask me that? I haven't seen you in thirteen years. I have no idea where your loyalties lie, but I know that when you decide to believe in someone, it's forever. I know that, because you're willing to go against your pack to keep me safe, but that also means you'd do the same for anyone who makes your short list. Jace saved your life. Don't you owe him? Won't you owe him forever?"
"Yes, I owe him, but that wouldn't include freeing him if he's a cold-blooded murderer. He's not. I know he isn't." But as he spoke, Cash replayed Bryn's words in his mind. Doubt flickered through him. She was right that his loyalty to Jace was absolute. What if she was right? What if he wanted Jace to be innocent so badly that he was willing to delude himself so he could justify freeing him?
"Do you really know it?" She walked over to him and set her hands on his hips, forcing him to look at her.
Her eyes were as blue as they'd been so long ago, framed with long, dark lashes. She stared at him, her gaze searching his, as if she could see the truths in his soul that he couldn't see for himself. "Do you have any evidence at all that Damien can influence other wolves, especially those as strong as Jace, to do something so against their nature?"
He gritted his jaw. "No. But it makes sense. I've heard of wolves who can do it. Jace never would have attacked anyone, and he would have killed his own pack member rather than let them kill. Damien was present both times when wolves acted against their nature, and he didn't stop it. That has to be what was going on."
"In your heart, or in real life?" Her voice was soft and non-judgmental, which made it impossible for him to defend against. Her fingers tightened on his waistband. "Cash, you're such a good man. You've always been so loyal. You give your heart to so few, but when you do, it's forever. You have to see with your eyes this time, and not your heart."
He searched her face. "My heart tells me that what you saw with your eyes is not the real story. I believe in him, Bryn. I know he's blameless." He slid his hands into her hair, framing her face. "You know me, Bryn. You know me better than anyone. Do you think my heart could be wrong?"
She b
it her lip, searching his face for so long that he felt a part of his heart crack. He realized then that the reason he'd hunted her down was because he'd needed her. He'd been doubting Jace's guilt the entire time, and he needed someone to tell him whether he was right, or just being naive. She was right that once someone gained his loyalty, it was theirs forever. Was he being blind in this situation?
She was the person he needed. Bryn was savvy, smart, and a survivor. She's seen the hell of the attack, but she also knew him in a way that no one else did, not even himself. Bryn would see the truth within him. He knew that if she told him he was wrong, he would doubt himself. Bryn was his anchor, and he needed her to believe in him.
"Bryn?" His fingers tightened in her hair. "You were there. You saw it. You know me. What does your heart say? Am I wrong? Am I just being stupid and fucked up? You know. Tell me."
Chapter 7
CASH'S GRIP ON her hair was too tight, too desperate, showing Bryn exactly how on edge he was. He doubted himself. He doubted his instincts. Every question she'd raised about Jace's innocence was one he'd already thought of. There was no logical reason to believe his story, but at the same time, she could feel his conviction in his heart. Every piece of his soul believed in Jace's innocence. He believed in so little in this world, so the fact he'd chosen Jace to believe in meant something.
"Bryn?"
She closed her eyes and, after weeks of fighting off the memories, she allowed her mind to return to that night. She succumbed to the horrible images that she'd worked so hard to keep at bay. She put herself back in that moment, when she'd walked out of her office at three in the morning, hating her accounting job, hating her life, hating the empty condo she had to return to. She'd felt so broken, so empty, so sad, still barely surviving in the shadows of her mother's death.
She felt Cash's finger on her cheek, brushing away a tear, and she rested her head on his chest, using him as an anchor while she opened herself up to the pain of that night, the pain she'd tried so hard to ignore. "I wanted to take a short cut to the garage," she said softly. "I knew the alley was going to be abandoned that late at night, but I didn't care. I was tired of being afraid, tired of feeling dead even though I was alive. I knew it was a safe area, and I wanted to be brave enough to walk down a stupid street."
His hands trailed through her hair, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "What were you scared of?"
"My life. Me. How empty I felt. I knew I had to change something, but I didn't know what." She hooked her hands over the waistband of his jeans, letting her knuckles press against the bare skin of his stomach. "I was halfway down the alley when I felt someone's presence, like I was being hunted."
His fingers tightened in her hair, but he said nothing, letting her continue.
"I looked around, but I didn't see anyone." Her heart started to pound again, that cold, dry taste of true fear that had consumed her in that moment. "The streetlight above my head went out. One by one, all the lights in the alley blinked out." Her skin had started to crawl then, and fear had wrapped itself around her spine, terror crawling into her muscles. "I bolted for the nearest door, but it was locked. I knew I had to get out of there, but when I turned to run, I saw the silhouette of a man..."
The image appeared in her mind, and suddenly it became clearer. "No, not a man." God, how had she not remembered until now? It was so clear there had been two men, but the second one had completely vanished from her memory. "There were two, one behind the other, walking toward me. I ducked behind a dumpster, and waited, praying that they hadn't seen me. I didn't remember the second man until now, but he was definitely there."
"Tell me the details." Cash's voice was low. "Sounds. Smells. Temperature."
She pressed her forehead against the solid wall of his chest, trying desperately to remember. For the first time, she wanted to remember, because she wanted to be able to give Cash the information he needed to understand where his loyalties should lie. "It was hot. I was sweating. Humid."
"Wolves rise in temperature before they shift. It can affect the environment sometimes."
She breathed deeply. "It smelled like the deep woods, like fresh earth, even though we were in an alley. I remember thinking that it smelled good." And then... She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to bring the image into her mind. "I heard a woman singing. Her window was open. It was a beautiful song, almost angelic. The man coming toward me paused and looked. He stopped in the light from her window, and that's when I saw his face. I recognized him as Jace Donovan. He's in the paper so much that I knew who he was."
"She was singing?" Cash's fingers continued to work through her hair. "Did you recognize the song?"
"No, but it was beautiful. As she sang, I saw Jace's face began to change. It was his eyes first. They changed from brown to gold." She breathed deeply, opening her mind to that night. "Then his face began to change. He looked wild and feral. His face became more angular, his jaw more defined. It was so fast, the change, that I almost couldn't process it. One second he was a man, and the next moment, he was a wolf, teeth bared, sprinting for the fire escape that led to her apartment, growling. He'd barely shifted and he was already on the move." She squeezed her eyes shut, using Cash's strength to ground herself. "He leapt through the window. The glass shattered, falling all around me, and in my hair. She screamed and leapt out the window, racing down the fire escape to get away from him. He caught her just as she landed in front of me." Her fingers tightened on his jeans. "They were less than a yard from me, Cash. I could see the look on her face when he crushed her throat. It was so ruthless, so brutal, so...God."
She pulled back, looking up at him. "Why, Cash? Why would someone do that?"
"He didn't do it," Cash said quietly. "There's more you're not seeing. Look away from the scene in front of you. What did you hear? What did you see? What was the other man doing?"
"I don't know!" She pushed away, her hands shaking as she relived the woman's horrific death. "He killed her and then shifted again, taking his human form again. He stood over her, staring down at her as he reclaimed his form, just staring at her like—" She stopped, suddenly, recalling the look on his face.
"Like what?"
She looked at Cash. "He looked shocked. He kept looking at the woman, and then his hands, and then back at her, like he was trying to figure out what had happened."
Cash nodded. "Memory lapse can happen during an uncontrolled shift, like when I was younger. What happened next?"
"He ran over to his pants, dug out his phone and called 9-1-1." She sat down on the bed and pulled her knees to her chest. "Then he turned sharply, as if he'd heard something. He looked right at the doorway where the other man had been, but he was gone. He looked up, like he was searching the rooftops, but before he could move, the police cars flooded into the alley. There were five of them, trapping him before he could go anywhere...except he did. He grabbed his clothes, and then went right up the side of the building and disappeared over the roofline."
Cash walked over and knelt beside the bed. "How long did the attack last?"
"Seconds. It was over so fast."
"And yet the cops were there almost instantly. They were already on their way when he called, weren't they? They had to have been."
She frowned, replaying the timing of the events in her mind. "Yes, they were there within a few seconds after he hung up."
"So someone else called before he did. Long enough for five squad cars to get there."
"It could have been anyone," she said, but even as she said it, her mind isolated a click, and a low murmur that she'd heard a split second before Jace had shifted, when only his eyes had changed. "Wait." She sat up, replaying it in her head. "I heard someone call, before Jace shifted. It was a man..." She closed her eyes, willing her mind to recall. "He was reporting a murder," she whispered. She opened her eyes to look at Cash. "A murder that hadn't happened yet."
He swore under his breath and pulled out his phone. He switched to his voice messa
ges and hit play. "Was this his voice?"
A man's voice filled the room, echoing from Cash's phone. "We're going in tonight. Be there at seven." His voice slithered over her skin, the cold dangerous tones that she immediately recognized. It was the same one she'd heard in the hotel, when Cash had taken her out.
She sat up. "That's it. That's the voice I heard. Damien?"
He nodded, hope dancing in his eyes. "Damien reported the woman's murder before Jace had even shifted. What does that tell you?"
"He knew it was going to happen, and he didn't want to stop it. He wanted Jace to do it, and to get caught." She met Cash's gaze. "I think you're right, Cash."
He sank down on the bed next to her, pressing his face to his hands as he rested his elbows on his quads. "Son of a bitch," he said softly. "I thought I was making shit up." His shoulders started to shake. "He's innocent. Jace is innocent."
Bryn wrapped her arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder, just like they had so many times before. Cash was a badass, deadly, and lethal, but he still cared so deeply for those few who mattered to him. She decided that she wanted to meet Jace someday, because he had to be quite extraordinary for Cash to believe in him so strongly. "So, what do we do now?" she asked. She knew her testimony would damn Jace, and it wouldn't be enough to implicate Damien. But they had to find an answer by Thursday. It was Christmas Eve day now, and she was on the docket for the day after Christmas.
He palmed her thigh, spreading his fingers across her leg. "I'll have Drake track down the wolves from today. If one of them will testify that Damien forced the others to attack, it's proof he can do it."
Dark Wolf Rising Page 6
