A Deadly Secret (The Deadly Series Book 2)

by R M Connor

  I ran my fingers through my hair, pushing it away from my forehead. “So, your father was trying to change pack rules . . . but why does it matter who has control?” I still didn’t understand. I pressed the button on the coffee maker and it began to brew.

  “It’s just the way it is.” Ethan scooted past me to grab a few mugs from the cabinet.

  “I know what my father was doing goes against pack policy, but someone else is breaking the rules. They’re killing off pack members to suit their needs.” Meaning Sasha was a wolf. “They’re overthrowing the alpha without a fair fight!” Michael slammed his fist on the table.

  I jumped at the sound and pressed my back against the counter. He was breathing heavily, his eyes glistening. I hadn’t meant to upset him; I was only trying to understand.

  I remembered the conversation I’d eavesdropped on between Eugene and Michael. He had tried to convince his father nothing had changed. But now, as I looked at him, I knew he hadn’t believed it. He knew his father was putting himself in danger by changing the way the land changed hands. Eugene was doing it for a reason though, and I think he knew Vargas was going to challenge him. Was this his way of avoiding it? Or was there a more sinister reason?

  Michael laid his hand flat on the table. His chest rose and fell as he calmed himself down. “That son of a bitch got his wife killed because of how badly he wants possession of Peaceful Acres.”

  I looked at Ethan. “Vargas killed his own wife?” He couldn’t have. He was next to the buffet table the whole time he was at the Christmas party.

  “No, but I bet he knows who did. They’re not working alone.” Michael bared his teeth as he spoke.

  “Sasha was vocal in her opposition of her husband trying to become alpha,” Ethan added. “She knew he wouldn’t make it.”

  Standing, Michael peered down at me. “Unless he cheats. Will you help me?”

  I nodded. “I will.”

  He gave a quick nod to Ethan then walked to the front door. “Please don’t take too long. I’ll be back soon.”

  Whoever was working with Vargas knew what Wolfsbane could do to werewolves. The mythology I read must be true. If Sasha hadn’t been helping her husband, then why had she checked out the poisonous plant book from the library? Had she figured out their plan? Was she trying to stop it, or use it against them?

  Ethan handed me a steaming cup of coffee and I stared into the liquid. Without speaking, it rippled. I needed a boost of energy if I was going to be of any help to anyone. The only people I could think of who might be helping Vargas were Jessica Freki or Daisy.

  “Ethan, do you know what Daisy is?” I took a sip, the liquid burning my throat.

  “Yeah, she’s a witch like Connie. Why?”

  “Just wondering.” I set the cup down and walked into the bathroom.

  I turned the water on, letting it run over my fingers as I waited for it to warm up. It felt safe to cross Daisy off my list. Any one of Esther’s guests could’ve brought the Wolfsbane with them . . . but my bet was now on Jessica Freki.

  I poked my head out of the bathroom. Ethan was still standing near the coffee pot. He looked up with a raised brow. “Jessica Freki?”

  He nodded. “She’s a wolf.”

  After washing my face and brushing my teeth, Ethan carried me up to the loft. He set me gently on my feet and I limped over to the dresser. The poultice had to be healing the wound on my thigh because it didn’t hurt as badly as it had an hour ago. Or I’d be turning furry during the next full moon. Guess we’d find out soon.

  Grabbing a pair of clean socks, I shut the drawer and the small perfume vial rolled off the dresser. I groaned as I bent to pick it up, my back stiff from sleeping on the couch. I looked at the light-purple liquid as it moved back and forth in the tube. Jessica had been wearing this for a while, and now that I knew she was a wolf, I wondered if there was more to the perfume than just a terrible smell.

  “What’s that?” Ethan asked from the edge of the bed.

  Giving him a side glance, I pursed my lips. “You tell me.”

  I dragged myself over to him and unscrewed the top. He backed away, rubbing at his nose. “That smells terrible.”

  “Yes, it does.” I would regret this, but I dabbed the roller ball on my wrist. I took a step away from him and spread my arms out. “What do you smell?”

  Ethan sneezed, rubbing his nose. He took a deep breath, and his brows furrowed. “Nothing . . . I mean, I can smell the perfume but . . .” He stood and sniffed the air. His nose twitched but he held back his sneeze. “I can’t smell your magic.”

  I twisted the lid back on and slipped it into the pocket of my oversized sweats. He couldn’t smell me, but what I was sure he meant was that he couldn’t smell my magic. Could this perfume be muting the smell of the wolf wearing it?

  “I need you to take me to Connie’s.” I glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed. “And then we need to pick up Maisie, so we can do the location spell.”

  I slid off the passenger seat of Ethan’s truck, making sure to put my weight on my good leg before hopping out of the way to shut the door. Ethan came up beside me, offering his arm.

  “I can carry you,” he whispered as I wrapped my hand around his bicep.

  “That wouldn’t be weird at all.” I started walking.

  Connie’s wasn’t too far away, but there hadn’t been any parking spots closer. I worried about the stitches in my leg. I had been whisked away so quickly I had no idea what shape my thigh was in, and what damage too much walking would do. I was hoping the poultice was acting like a glue.

  Ethan helped me over the curb and we slowly made our way past Luna’s boutique. Tugging on his arm, I stopped, seeing Sophia outside. She locked the door and then smoothed out a bright pink piece of paper taped on the glass.

  She turned toward us, averting her eyes to the ground then brushed past us with a thin, forced smile. Was being unfriendly a family trait? Ethan turned his head to follow her until she crossed the street toward Town Square. I walked up to the paper taped to the door. It was a typed note from Jessica saying she was out sick and apologizing for the store being closed.

  Out sick, huh?

  “What did Maisie do to the wolf that attacked me?” I lowered my voice as a woman in a long, red pea coat with the belt tied tight around her waist walked past us. I caught myself wondering what she might be. Another witch? A werewolf? I’d be okay with any, except a wererat. Please don’t let those exist.

  “She threw it.” He forced me to start walking again.

  “Threw it?”

  “Yeah. She said something and moved her arms.” He motioned his hand out in front of his body to show me. “And then the wolf went flying.”

  Had she been studying the grimoire at night? Maisie was a strong witch, that part I knew, but I didn’t like the idea of her learning the more harmful spells behind closed doors. I was already worried enough about her being the ‘bad’ twin. We reached the door to Connie’s. I hesitated, glancing back at Luna’s. “How quick can werewolves heal?”

  “Relatively fast.” He pulled the door open.

  Connie looked up from her perch at the counter. She pushed her glasses up with the same hand that held a large set of shears. “Why are you out of bed? You didn’t rinse off the poultice, did you?” she chided me, pointing the shears my way.

  “No. It’s still there.” I wrinkled my nose and took the shears out of her hand before she poked her eye out. “I need you to take a look at something.”

  I pulled the perfume sample out of my pocket and laid it in on the counter.

  “What’s this?” She held it in front of her face, her glasses magnifying her eyes.

  “It’s perfume from Luna’s. But I think it’s more than just perfume.”

  A single brow rose as Connie unscrewed the lid. She put it right under her nose and I grimaced. Sucking in a deep breath, she gagged and then held the vial as far as her arm could reach. “Riley Jones, I think you’re onto something.�
�� She jumped from her stool and motioned for us to follow her into the back. “Ethan, would you be a dear and lock the front door for me. We don’t need anyone coming in during this.”

  She rushed around the room, grabbing a bowl and a small dropper bottle. Lying them on the counter near the sink, she pinched her nose and poured half the perfume into the bowl.

  “You might want to step back, Ethan,” she said as she used her teeth to untwist the bottle. Holding the dropper over the bowl, a single drop of the dark liquid fell from the tip.

  A plume of smoke rose. Coughing, I fanned it away. Connie took her glasses off and wiped at her watering eyes. Ethan had moved to the other side of the room but his eyes were red and he had a hand covering his nose and mouth.

  “What the hell was that?” I asked, pulling the collar of the sweatshirt over my nose.

  “Nothing good.” Connie poured her concoction into the large utility sink, turning the water on to flush the smell down the drain.

  “What exactly does that mean?” I asked, talking through my shirt.

  Connie grabbed another bowl and added another drop of the perfume. She held her hands over it and closed her eyes. Smoke began to pour out from under her hands, but this time it didn’t explode. She waved her hands upward. “Ostende,” she whispered.

  The gray smoke changed to a light shade of purple. I moved closer, squinting at what I swore was the shape of a skull within the smoke.

  Connie put her arm out, stopping me from getting too close. “You don’t want to breathe that in.” She clapped her hands together and the smoke dissipated. “This is definitely not good. Where did you say you got this from?” She clicked her tongue, shaking her hand.

  “From Luna’s.” I watched as she disposed of it again. “What’s in it?”

  Connie stopped moving. Taking a book from the shelf above the sink, she flipped it open to a picture of a purple flower. She glanced over her shoulder at Ethan. “Wolfsbane.”

  Exchanging a look with him, I followed her back into the front of the store. She laid the book on the counter and sat on her stool, her long legs crossed at the knees and a perplexed look on her face. I leaned back against the counter beside her with my arms crossed over my stomach. Ethan wiped at his face with a damp paper towel, his eyes irritated from the smell.

  “Why would someone put Wolfsbane in a perfume?”

  Connie snapped to attention, her faraway expression replaced with a large smile. Patting me on the arm, she winked. “There is so much for you to learn.”

  “I know Wolfsbane is poisonous . . .”

  “In large doses, Wolfsbane will kill a werewolf or repel them from an area. But if they eat it . . .” She drew her finger over her neck and stuck her tongue out. “However, in just the right dose,” she said with her fingers pinched in front of her face, “it can immobilize. This didn’t come to Wildewood by chance.”

  My stomach twisted. Any hope I had left of Eugene being alive dissolved. “Can a werewolf survive Wolfsbane poisoning?”

  Connie tapped a finger to her chin, eying me. “Why do you ask?”

  Ethan gripped the counter. His knuckles were white as he held himself up. I touched his shoulder and he growled. There was movement under his skin—his muscles twitching. I took a step back, scared he was about to transform into his wolf again.

  “Oh, dear.” Connie rushed through the door of the back room.

  “Ethan, what’s wrong?” I whispered, reaching out to touch him again but my hand fell short.

  Connie burst back into the room. She grabbed his chin and forced his mouth open just enough to insert a thin dropper. She squeezed the ball at the end, the liquid emptying into his mouth. “He must’ve breathed too much of it in.”

  “What’s happening to him?” I watched Ethan swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He gagged; his eyes closed tight.

  “Did I mention just the smell of it can cause hallucinations, upset stomach, nausea, vomiting, dia—”

  “No. No, you did not.” I wrapped my hand around Ethan’s arm, helping him stand back up. “Are you okay?”

  He shook his head. “What was that?”

  Beaming, Connie held up the tincture. “It’s an antidote I’ve been working on. I haven’t had a chance to use it but it seemed to have worked.”

  An antidote? Why would she be working on an antidote for Wolfsbane? She had told me she didn’t know anyone who grew it. No one alive anyway. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temple. No one who was alive . . .

  My eyes popped open. “Did someone ask you to make an antidote?”

  She pressed her lips together in a thin line, her eyes widening.

  “Connie.” I pointed my finger at her. “Who asked you to make an antidote?”

  She flapped her hand in front of her, letting out a sigh. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter now. I feel so terrible. I hadn’t finished it when . . .”

  “Who? Connie?”

  She rolled her eyes and pushed her glasses to sit on top of her head. “Sasha Vargas.”

  Taking a step back in disbelief, I stared at the small bottle on the counter. Sasha knew someone was going to use Wolfsbane on the wolves of Wildewood. That’s why she checked out the book, she was searching for answers. She must’ve figured out what was going on and turned to Connie. I wonder if the perfume was being used to subdue her into compliance, and when it wasn’t enough, she was silenced.

  My thoughts shifted to Eugene. If that antidote had helped Ethan, maybe it could help Eugene—if he was still alive. Connie caught me staring at it and picked up the bottle. Holding it by the rubber top, she tapped it on her palm.

  “Do you know something I don’t?” she asked me.

  Nodding, I glanced at Ethan. “I think Eugene was poisoned, but—” I took a deep breath. “I think he might still be alive.” I was being hopeful. I didn’t want to give up yet.

  “Take it.” She held it out across the counter. “I can always make more.”

  I wrapped my fingers around the smooth glass. If Eugene was still alive, this might be the only thing that would save him. The poison had worked fast on Sasha, but Vargas needed Eugene alive until he gave up Peaceful Acres.

  Thanking her, I walked to the door and looked over my shoulder as Connie whispered something into Ethan’s ear. He nodded and, in just a few long strides, caught up with me. Connie had her slender arms wrapped around her tall frame. The wrinkles around her mouth deepened as she brought her gaze up to look at us.

  “What did she say?”

  Ethan brushed a few strands of hair from my face, pushing it behind my ear. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

  Ignoring Ethan’s pleas for me to get back in the truck, I limped toward the café to wait for Maisie. The chatter from the square was boisterous. Though it was cold, the rays from the sun were warm. I heard his truck growl to life, and I picked up my pace—still slower than I preferred. Trying to push down the feeling of being upset from the secret he and Connie had shared, I needed a moment alone. These people would never learn their secrets were getting people killed.

  I have no idea what Sasha had said to Connie when she asked for an antidote. Surely Connie had been curious. But maybe that was just me . . . maybe I hadn’t lived in this secret-keeping town long enough to know not to ask questions. I would’ve wanted to know why, and I probably wouldn’t have helped without an answer.

  Probably.

  My thigh ached as I reached the fence around the patio of the café. It just wasn’t in my nature not to be curious. I heard Bean’s bell jingle and he jumped over the fence and onto one of the small black tables. Maybe I had been a cat in a past life. I wasn’t sure if I even believed in past lives, but I knew I did not have nine lives, and I had gotten too close to death these last few months.

  Just one secret after another, from the moment I stepped foot in this town. Hell, my whole life had been a secret. We had been a secret kept from my father. My magic was a secret I had kept from everyone. Every person in this town had a sec
ret and look what was happening. Nothing good.

  Rubbing under Bean’s chin, I wondered what he was hiding from me. He opened his eyes to look at me. I probably didn’t want to know. Maisie walked out of the door, her back turned to me as she locked it. Turning around, her eyes widened when she realized I was in front of her. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

  “I had an errand to run. I figured we’d pick you up on the way back home.”

  “Who’s we?” She looked around, confused, seeing that I was alone.

  Ethan pulled up in front of the café and her lips formed an O.

  “Come on. We have work to do.” I pulled open the passenger door before Ethan had a chance to get out and help. Maisie grabbed Bean from the table and slid in behind me. “Michael stopped by this morning.”

  “Oh?” She leaned forward, between the two front seats. “Where has he been?”

  I shrugged, trying to twist around in my seat but my leg wasn’t having it. “He needs us to do a location spell.”

  Looking at her in the rearview mirror, surprise spread over her face, and then her brows scrunched. “He knows we’re witches? I didn’t think he saw . . .”

  I ran a hand over my face; I had a lot of explaining to do. I started with Michael being a werewolf, which didn’t shock her as much as I thought it would. Though, it was possible Ethan had already told her while I laid unconscious in the hospital. However, telling her Eugene was the alpha of the pack did. There had to be more witches in Wildewood, besides us, the mayor, and Connie, but for some reason, he felt we were the only ones who could be trusted in finding his father. Was that a complement?

  I bared my teeth in a hiss, the truck bouncing us as it pulled into the driveway. I had been on my leg too much already, I could tell by the burning sensation starting to flare back up. But I couldn’t rest yet. We had to get the grimoire and figure out how to locate Eugene before he was poisoned to the point of no return.

  “I can’t believe someone is poisoning your pack,” Maisie said to Ethan as we got out of the truck.

  Bean ran up the steps, and as he reached the top he hissed. The fur on his arched back stood on end. Ethan jogged past us but abruptly stopped when he reached the steps. Even though Bean protested with a guttural cry, he grabbed the little cat and carried him back to Maisie.