by Gwen Knight
Knox took my cue and followed. “What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know.” I blinked and shook out my head, my thoughts a bit fuzzy. All this death was finally getting to me—that had to be it. No way in hell I was attracted to Knox. “But I think it’s time to report to my father. And you with your brother.”
A crooked smile tugged on Knox’s lips. “Please, Eli doesn’t have a clue I’m here, and doesn’t care about all this.”
“Wait, what? Then why are you here?”
Knox turned and pinned me with a stern stare. “Because someone needs to give a shit.”
“And that someone is you?”
“Maybe.”
I shook my head. “I don’t buy it. Why are you really here?”
He leaned forward, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he held my gaze. “Maybe I’m here for you.”
“Doubtful.” I laughed. “Fine, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s your prerogative. But I, on the other hand, do have an alpha I need to report to. So, if you don’t mind…”
Knox stepped back. “By all means.”
I reached for the mistletoe, this time conscious enough to use gloves. It was evidence, after all. “I’ll show this to my father.”
“The mistletoe?”
“There’s something off about it. You don’t feel it?”
“It stinks of magic, but that’s about it.”
I froze. “It what?”
“It stinks. You can’t smell it?”
I lifted it to my nose and inhaled. But the only scent I could pick up was Knox’s. “I can’t smell anything but you,” I growled.
“Kinky,” Knox teased. “Let me know if you or your father turn anything else up.” With a small salute, he turned and strode out of the room.
Finally, I could breathe again. And sure enough, the mistletoe stunk of magic.
Curious.
2
Christmas carols echoed through the streets as I pulled into the driveway. From the looks of it, the entire house was packed to the brim with pack members. Not surprising. It wouldn’t have taken long for word to spread about Brittany’s death. And beyond those doors, David waited.
God. What the hell was I going to tell him? Yes, your mate is dead. And by the way, there was another man in the room with her. Naked. Oh, and he’s the one who killed her. What a shit show.
Cursing under my breath, I slammed the car into park and killed the engine. For a few moments, I just sat there and watched the shadows move behind the curtains. It was five days before Christmas—this was not the sort of news I wanted to deliver. Part of David had to be hoping I’d walk in and tell him Brittany was all right. Except she wasn’t. Far from it. And he had to live with that.
Now or never, girl.
I pushed open the door and climbed out into the snow, then shut the door and headed up the porch, mistletoe in hand. Surrounded by so much festive cheer, I wanted nothing more than to slink back into the car and seek out the nearest bar. But an alpha would never shirk away. I wasn’t an alpha, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t behave like one.
So, with a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and trudged up the stairs. The door opened before I made it to the top. I lifted my head and eyed my mother who hovered in the faint ambient porch light.
No words passed between us, but I watched as her shoulders rounded and grief touched her eyes. She knew. They all knew. Didn’t I just feel like the Grinch?
“Come on, darling. Let’s get you warmed up.”
I nodded and took her outstretched hand. Once inside, I stomped my feet, then kicked my boots off into the corner. My jacket and the mistletoe were next, tossed onto the nearest rack, along with a dozen other jackets. Our pack was massive, but there was no way our house could fit eighty or so werewolves. From the looks of it, only the higher ups were in attendance tonight.
And David.
“I’ll get the kettle going,” my mother murmured. “Why don’t you head on down and fill them all in. They’ve been impatiently waiting for you.”
I brushed my lips against my mother’s cheeks, then headed into the living room, my steps silent on the plush carpet. The moment I stepped inside, the entire room fell silent, and a dozen gazes swung my way.
“Rumor,” David whispered, surging up from the couch. “Tell me it isn’t so… Is Brittany…”
My eyes dropped to the floor, and I shook my head. God, this was hard. I felt it now. The hard lump rising in my throat, the quiver of my bottom lip, and the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. At least I was with my pack. We could mourn together. Maybe I wasn’t so broken after all.
David slumped back down onto the couch and dropped his head into his palms. When the tears came, I couldn’t stand it. I fell to my knees in front of him and slid my arms around his neck.
He trembled against me, fighting the tears that wracked his body. I gave in and sobbed with him, finally allowing the truth of the situation to bear down on us. Brittany was the second member stolen from us. The first had been a middle-ranked wolf named Kason. As a pack, we’d mourned him, and we’d do the same for Brittany.
David lifted his head, his eyes rimmed with red, his cheeks damp. “Tell me what happened.”
“I don’t know yet,” I whispered. “But I’m going to find out. For you. For her. For Kason.”
“How’d she die?”
My eyes fluttered shut. I was the daughter of an alpha. I’d been born tough and ready to fight. But this was something no one was ever prepared for. “Her throat was torn out.”
“By who?” he demanded, rage shivering in his voice.
I paused for breath. Though he had every right to know, I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t tell him that his future mate had slept with another werewolf, who had subsequently murdered her. And if I gave him the name, I feared the repercussions. Ditton was a member of the Moonlit Oak Pack. Would handing over his name start a war? Brittany had been loved by so many.
So, instead, I shook my head. “I don’t know yet. I’m so sorry David.”
“I just saw her yesterday.” His head fell forward, his fingers laced through his hair. “We went to a Christmas party together for her work. I left early, I had to work today. But she’d wanted to stay.”
I winced, imagining her reasons for remaining behind.
“When I woke up this morning, and she wasn’t there, I figured she’d gone home to her own place last night. She did that sometimes. I texted her all day.”
I was just grateful he hadn’t gone to her place before work.
“By the time my shift was done, I had a message from your father telling me to come right here.”
I nodded. We’d been alerted by the police at that point. Someone had reported them for a noise disturbance, then a domestic dispute claim, and this had been the result.
“You’re saying someone broke into her home?” David demanded, a waft of anger rising off him.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” I murmured. “I need to speak to my father first, all right?”
I pushed to my feet and was about to leave the living room when a clawed hand shot out and wrapped around my wrist. My gaze fell the distance and locked onto David’s hand. His grip was firm, his claws digging into my flesh, but I didn’t retaliate.
“Let me go, David,” I commanded. When I ordered someone to release me, they damn well did. And David was no exception. His claws retracted, and he pulled his hand back.
“I—I’m sorry,” he grumbled. “I don’t…I can’t…”
I nodded, then left the living room. On the way to my father’s office, I paused and grabbed the mistletoe, my nose wrinkling as the scent of magic perfumed the air. I climbed the stairs and approached his office.
“Come in,” he grunted before I could knock.
I slipped inside and closed the door behind us. It wouldn’t keep the other wolves from listening, but it did give us a sense of privacy. I crossed my father’s room and flicked on the nearest radi
o, flooding the room with the dulcet sounds of classical music.
My father watched, his brow rising and his fingers steepling in front of his chin. “Report.”
Conrad Hayes, ladies and gentleman. Never one for small talk, or, you know, manners. I eased over to the empty chair in front of his desk and plopped down into it. Then I placed the mistletoe on his desk and leaned back. “Brittany’s gone.”
His head bobbed. “Yes, I assumed as much. The police aren’t generally wrong about these sorts of things. Was it the same thing as Kason?”
“Throat torn out, and clawed up.”
“And did you find the perpetrator?”
Knox’s words rang through my head. Everything he’d said had made sense. And it wouldn’t take much work to confirm it. A measurement of Ditton’s fangs and claws.
“Ditton Clark,” I said, my ears straining to pick up any sounds from the living room. With the music blaring, the odds were fair that David wouldn’t hear.
My father’s gaze narrowed as he contemplated the name. “Can’t say I know him.”
“He’s a wolf with the Moonlit Oak Pack.”
“One of Hendrick’s wolves then. Interesting.”
“There’s more. This wasn’t an, uh, attack.”
My father tapped his finger against his chin. “You might have to clarify this for me.”
Oh, boy. Because talking about sexual affairs with their father was every girl’s dream. “It would appear that Brittany was having an affair.”
My father’s right eyebrow shot up. “Now, that doesn’t sound like Brittany at all.”
“That’s what I said. But their scents were all over each other. Not to mention, they were naked. Ditton is dead too, by the way. Knox and I surmised they killed each other, after…well, just after.”
“Knox?” Thunder gathered in my father’s steel eyes. “Evan or Eli?”
“Evan. The younger brother. He pointed out some details I might have overlooked.”
“While I’m not amused one of the Knox brothers was there, I’m glad you’ve made some progress. Now, what’s with the mistletoe?”
“Give it a whiff,” I commented, pushing it across the desk. “Knox pointed out that it stinks of magic. I didn’t notice till then.”
My father lowered his nose to the mistletoe and inhaled. “Definitely magic. Witches,” he growled.
“Or fae,” I countered. “There’s more than one beasty out there with access to magic.”
His head jerked up, and he watched me, his eyes swelling with gold. “This doesn’t smell fae to me.”
And that ladies and gentleman was why it was good to be an alpha. The strength and sheer power, not to mention the enhanced senses, even above and beyond us plebe wolves.
“Are you sure? I could take a trip out to their sidhe—”
“I said it isn’t the fae,” he snapped.
My mouth flattened. “All right. Don’t go all furry on me.”
He grumbled under his breath. “Visit the witches tomorrow. I expect a full report by eleven a.m.”
“I told David about Brittany’s death, but I didn’t bring up her affair. I wasn’t sure if I should. I mean, he’s mourning her right now. Is there any reason to shatter his image?”
“Eventually, he’ll need to be told. But not tonight. He has enough on his shoulders right now.”
Relieved, I rose from the chair and started toward the door. The downside to being an alpha was his workload. I knew he had much to do and little time to do it all in.
“Don’t forget about the solstice gathering tomorrow night.”
I froze with my hand on the door. “Father.”
“I don’t want to hear it, Rumor,” he snarled. “We made a promise to the other packs. You will attend. And you will choose a suitable mate.”
My upper lip curled of its own volition. “But—”
“I won’t listen to any more complaints about this,” my father growled.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled a warning. He was my father, but he was also the alpha. He wasn’t someone to argue with. Not that I’d ever been smart enough to listen to my instincts, which was why the two of us rarely got along. “It isn’t the nineteenth century anymore. Marrying me off to another pack is an old custom—”
“One we’ve obeyed for centuries. You know your mother and I were an arranged mating.”
I ground my teeth together. “Yes, and look how well that worked out.”
“Watch your tongue!” he barked.
My eyes fluttered shut, and I tipped my head back. “Father—”
“Enough. Leave me to my work. If you aren’t there tomorrow night, so help me, Rumor…I’ll make you wish you’d never been born.”
I bit my tongue and stormed out of his office, careful to slam the door behind me. Childish, perhaps. But damn, it sure did feel great.
3
Witches.
I hated witches.
Condescending asshats, the lot of them. Everything was the rule of three and mother earth this and goddess that. I loved the earth and all things wild but not like them. I didn’t smudge the air—or whatever it was called—or inhale fragrances or pray to celestial beings for truth and guidance and understanding. I believed in what I could see, feel, and hear, like the wind through the trees and the soil beneath my feet. Then there were their spells. Things like bewitched mistletoe. I still hadn’t a clue how it was involved in these deaths—I just knew it was. My nose never lied. Right now, that was all the information I needed.
I peered out the windshield and stared up at a small shop owned by the three Cleary sisters. They weren’t the highest ranking within their coven but were capable enough to study the spell work and tell me who it belonged to. Unless it was theirs. Then we’d have a problem. If I could get in to see them, of course. Tonight was the solstice. Every paranormally-inclined being was preparing in their own way. And from the smell of things, the witches were well underway. The whole parking lot stunk of sage and cedar.
With a sigh, I glanced at the mistletoe propped up against the passenger seat. Its magic had diminished overnight, but every now and then I caught a whiff. Whatever spell had been cast on the plant was subsiding, which meant I had to talk to them now, regardless of their solstice preparations.
Maybe if I were lucky, they’d kill me for intruding. Then I wouldn’t have to attend the gathering tonight, or choose my future mate from a group of men I barely knew.
A light tap against the driver-side window startled me out of my thoughts. I twitched in my seat and looked over to find Knox standing out in the cold, his long coat flapping in the wintry breeze. Werewolves were generally immune to the harsh winters, but his pinked cheeks were proof the wind had a bite of its own.
He gestured toward the window. After a muttered curse, I rolled it down and stared up at him. “What are you doing here?”
The bitter scent of frustration rolled off him in waves. “You could have told me you were going to question the witches today. I thought we agreed we could help each other.”
I lifted a brow. He had to be kidding. Did he not see the irony in his statement? “And yet here you are, preaching at me when you’ve done the same thing. So, how ’bout you stow the superiority complex.”
“I’m only here because I followed you,” he snapped, a hue of gold swelling in his otherwise dark eyes.
Now, why didn’t that feel right? I shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold. “You…what?”
“No.” He shifted his weight back and ran a hand through his short hair. “I don’t mean I followed you like some creeper. I was on my way to your place to discuss our suspicions about the witches when I saw you drive by.”
“So…you followed me.”
“It’s not like it sounds.”
Sure it wasn’t. He saw me and followed.
“Would you get out here?” He kicked at my wheel well, then turned away, his shoulders shifting as he sucked in a deep breath.
Perhaps
a small part of me pitied him. So, rather than comment on his actions, I shoved open my door, exited the car, then slammed the door shut and leaned against it. “What do you want from me, Knox? No one said we had to be partners in this.”
He turned back with a pursed mouth. “Why can’t we? We’re both investigating the same damn thing. Wouldn’t it be easier to work together?”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I want to.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Could be because I don’t like you?”
My bold statement seemed to surprise him. His brows shot up, and his mouth parted soundlessly. After a moment’s silence, he cursed under his breath, his hands balled at his sides. Confusion creased my brow. What was this? Knox had never before cared a lick what I thought of him, so why now? Why the attitude?
I watched as his shoulders rounded, and he flexed out his hands. “Damn it, Rumor. I’m trying here.”
“Trying to…?”
“Breach this gap between us!”
I blinked.
“No, that’s not what I meant. I mean the gap between our packs.”
“All right…I’ll play your game. Why?”
“Because my brother’s an idiot,” he growled, his face growing stern. “He’s alpha because he’s strong. But he’s dumb as fuck. I think he gets off causing strife between all the packs, but this animosity gains us nothing. Have you realized that us werewolves are the only ones being targeted? I put in some calls last night. No other paranormal groups have reported any deaths. Just us wolves. That tells me someone out there has a vendetta against us. And, usually, it’s those closest to the victim.”
I shoved off the car and straightened to my incredibly impressive height of five foot three. “Now, pump the brakes there. Are you accusing my pack of these murders?”
“Don’t be stupid,” he grunted. “Why would you kill your own people? But someone out there is picking us off, two at a time. And right now, it could be anyone. I want to solve this and stop these deaths. But I also want to heal some of the injuries my dumbass brother has created.”
