by Liza Street
Marcus traveled beneath her on the ground, in his wolf form. Ever the protector, ever the friend.
She could tell he was disappointed that she’d slept with Carter. She felt bad for that and wished there was something she could do or say that would help him feel better. But in the end, it seemed that talking about it would only make it worse.
Spending time in their animal forms was so much simpler. The concerns of her emotional world were still present, but they faded slightly as the sensations of the natural world took precedence. Trees, sky, earth, wildlife. Sensory information inundated her ears, eyes, tongue, skin.
A few feet ahead of her on the ground, Marcus paused. Lena stopped, balancing on a branch, thick bark digging into the pads of her feet. Marcus looked up, his wolfish blue eyes serious.
Lena inhaled. The scent was faint, but Shaw had been here, and if his scent was present despite the rain, it meant he’d spent quite some time in this place. She leaped down, paws thudding against the muddy ground. Lowering her nose to the base of the tree, she pulled in more of Shaw’s scent. She nodded at Marcus.
This was the place. She just wasn’t sure exactly where he’d slept.
Marcus pointed with his muzzle to a shadowy copse of trees a few feet away. There it was—a large piece of corrugated sheet metal braced against the trees and a dismembered car door to form a shelter.
She nodded at Marcus. Now that they knew where Shaw was staying, they could better monitor his movements. It wouldn’t keep her entirely safe—she’d never be safe as long as Shaw was alive in here with her. But it would help her know what he was up to.
She stayed on the ground with Marcus and they ran back to the trailer at the north side of the Junkyard. Lena was wet to her skin, and all she wanted to do was to dry off and put on clean clothes.
When the trailer was in sight, she shifted to her human form to walk the rest of the way. The rain washed away her concerns, but caused her to shiver.
Whatever happened, she would be fine. She’d survive, as she had before.
Shaw arriving had seemed like the end of the world, but she was going to monitor him, and Marcus and Kyle—and maybe even Carter—would help.
If only she knew why Shaw was really here. Asking him would be pointless, and might even set her back in her knowledge. The man was a walking sack of dicks and dishonesty.
“Hey, Lena,” a feminine voice called.
She turned around and saw Caitlyn leaving the cabin. Her blond hair was covered by the hood of a blue jacket.
“Hi,” Lena called. “Sorry for the no clothes thing.”
Caitlyn, as a human, probably wasn’t used to all the nudity.
Caitlyn smiled. “No worries. Were you just running around in your other form?”
“Yeah.” Her anxiety over what Shaw was up to combined with seeing Caitlyn, and she got an idea. “Hey, is there any way you could send a message for me, or maybe ask Grant to do it, since he’s a shifter and this would go to my old pride?”
“I’ll get some paper,” Caitlyn said.
She went inside and then reappeared a moment later, notebook and pen in her hand. After approaching the gravel line, she nudged them over.
Lena picked them up. She already knew who she’d write to—the only person who had shown a shred of sanity in the past few months.
Dillon, I need to know why Shaw is in the Junkyard. Nothing is making sense. Please, I could really use some information. Thanks, Lena.
She had more questions, but thought it best to keep the note as vague as possible, so she stopped the note there. She wanted to know who the new alpha was, in Shaw’s absence, and whether that position was considered permanent, or what. It had to be permanent, didn’t it? It wasn’t as if Shaw could get out of this place.
Unless he had a mate.
Dread pooled in her belly.
“Are you okay?” Caitlyn asked.
“I just thought of something,” Lena said. “It has to do with getting out of here. I heard a rumor…”
Caitlyn nodded. “You need a mate. It’s how Grant and I got out.”
“So it’s true?”
“Yes.” Caitlyn bit her lip, as if she was thinking about saying more, but wasn’t sure if she should.
“It’s okay,” Lena said, nudging the notebook and pen back over the gravel line. “You can tell me, if you want.”
“I was just wondering how things are going with Carter?”
“Ha.” Lena sighed. “I don’t know. He’s obsessed with antagonizing one of my friends, and with fighting in general. My last alpha, who’s here now, was similar. Violent.”
Violent, and mean. Whereas Carter was just violent. He’d never been mean to her.
“For what it’s worth,” Caitlyn said, “when he stitched you up the other night, he seemed to care about you a lot. The only other time I’ve seen a man look at a woman like that is…well…it’s how Grant looks at me.”
Lena closed her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I know we’re not that close, I should just keep my mouth shut,” Caitlyn said.
“No, it’s okay.” Lena started forward to touch Caitlyn’s hand in reassurance, but her fingers met the wall. She rubbed away the ache of them jamming. “Dammit. Well, it really is okay. I mean that. You can say whatever you want to me.”
“Same for you,” Caitlyn said. “This is the weirdest friendship. But maybe one of these days you’ll be over here on the other side with me.”
“I hope so.”
“I have to go. I’ll ask Grant to deliver your message.” Caitlyn smiled as her gaze flicked past Lena. “And it looks like someone’s waiting to talk to you.”
Lena didn’t need to look behind her to know it was Carter.
“Thanks,” she said to Caitlyn, and watched her walk back to her cabin.
Sighing, she turned and walked over to Carter. He had on a hoodie and jeans and the rain had soaked through them, plastering them against his form and showing off his muscles even more than usual.
Marcus was out of sight, probably inside the trailer, getting warm and dry like Lena wished she was doing. Instead, she was standing in the rain, naked, her hair stuck to her head and water drops falling in her eyes.
Carter gave her an evaluating look. “Do you need to get dressed?”
“No. We’re not going to be talking for long, anyway.”
“Fair enough.” He looked up at the trees, then back to Lena. “I’ve made my peace with Kyle.”
“Too late,” she said. “You already bloodied him. Twice. I think the time for making peace should’ve been before you attacked him like that, don’t you?”
“Please, Lena.”
It was strange hearing her name instead of “kitty cat” from him. She kind of missed the silly endearment.
“I don’t want to talk,” she said.
“Then let’s kiss instead.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
Ugh. The nerve. “Look, I mean it, Carter. I don’t know what this is, but it’s not healthy. We aren’t mates—the boundary proved it, didn’t it? And this thing between us, maybe it’s just fate’s fucked up way of messing with us both.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but she was done. Closing her eyes, she let her lion take over again. Before, she’d wanted to go inside and be warm, but now she just wanted to disappear into her animal.
“I’ll try the boundary again with you,” he said quietly, his deep blue eyes intense as they stared directly into hers. “I’ll try it every damn day until it works, kitty cat. And that’s a promise.”
It felt like a full minute before she could break her gaze away from his.
She ran. She wouldn’t go far—she wasn’t stupid, and she wouldn’t put herself in danger just to avoid a conversation with Carter. A couple hundred yards would have to be enough. She leaped away, seeking the embrace of the dark trees.
20
Carter slung back another throatful of moonshine. His flask was a lot emptier than it had been when he’d shown
up to the lake this morning.
The fish weren’t biting. Again. He wondered why he tried fishing when it wasn’t working, but what the fuck else was he going to do?
He’d meant what he said to Lena yesterday. He’d visit the boundary and try to get over with her every single day, as long as it took for it to recognize them as mates. What else could the magic need as proof? They’d fucked. He hadn’t given her a mark, but he doubted Grant had marked Caitlyn, a human. Maybe he had. Carter would try that with Lena, if she’d let him.
His mark would look so good on her shoulder. He’d wear hers, too, if she wanted.
He would do anything it took to take away the sadness in her blue eyes.
His line pulled. He waited, wanting to make sure the fish was fully hooked before reeling it in. Did Lena like fish? He could bring her this one and ask. Carter had a killer seasoning he used—his own recipe that he’d concocted with a few things sent in by different alphas over the past months. Spices were a luxury, but a couple of the alphas were more generous than others.
While he fantasized about cooking a meal for Lena, footsteps approached from behind. He turned and saw Jase Englender. Behind him were a few others—Stetson Krom, Ronan Markowicz, even Derrick Alleman.
“Varrone.” Jase’s voice was low and serious, much like his posture.
Carter gave an experimental tug on his fishing line, but it gave easily. Damn fish had probably swiped his bait and was now swimming on the far end of the lake.
He stood up and dropped the pole. “What’s up?”
“Did you do it?”
“Do what?”
All the guys looked somber. Alleman sneered, but that was his usual face, so Carter didn’t think much of it.
“I need a straight answer from you, man,” Jase said.
Carter felt his inner bear lift his head and growl. “You’re not my fuckin’ alpha, Englender.”
“He may as well be,” Markowicz said from behind Jase. “He’s the only one who brings the Junkyard together.”
Markowicz had a point, but that didn’t give Jase any sort of authority over Carter.
And it didn’t give Carter any answers as to what the hell was going on.
“What do you need to know?” Carter asked. “Spit it out.”
“Did you kill Kyle Rusch?”
“What? No. Kyle’s dead?”
He had to talk to Lena. She’d be devastated. Did she know yet? He started forward, but Jase put a hand up.
“Your scent is all over the body,” Jase said. “Tell me again, please.”
Carter growled in frustration. “I did not kill Kyle.”
He couldn’t believe Kyle was dead. They’d just made peace. They’d fucking cried together, and Carter could say that about exactly zero other people on this planet.
Jase turned to look at the others. “Sounds like truth to me. You guys?”
They nodded.
“What is this,” Carter said, “some kind of trial?”
“Not anymore,” Jase said, then turned around and started to walk off.
“Wait just a second.” Carter hurried to catch up with him. “What happened?”
Jase’s dark eyes glimmered with a barely-concealed rage. “Someone ripped his throat out, execution style.”
An unnameable emotion filled Carter. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he had forgiven Kyle. They’d bonded like brothers.
Fuck. His eyes burned.
Jase spoke. “Carter. You okay?”
“No, I’m not fucking okay. Who did this?”
“I’m hoping to find out,” Jase said. “These guys are gonna help me ask everyone else about it.”
Carter shot a glance at Alleman.
Noticing that, Jase said, “I’ve already asked him.”
“You can ask me yourself, dumbshit,” Alleman said to Carter. “I didn’t kill Kyle, either.”
“Okay,” Carter said. “Where’s the body?”
Jase said, “About halfway between here and the dump.”
Without another word, Carter took off running. He had to find Lena before she found Kyle.
21
“It’s just, he should’ve come back last night,” Lena said.
Marcus, silent in his wolf form, walked beside her. His dark gray fur looked soft, but she didn’t touch him. They’d decided walking this way—her as a human, him as a wolf—would be best so she could call for Kyle, and Marcus would be better able to protect her if they met with Shaw.
“Kyle was as worried as the two of us,” she went on.
Marcus nudged his snout against her hand as a comforting gesture, then put more distance between them to check out the woods.
She called twice for Kyle, but got nothing except the quiet of the wilderness in response. Although the rain had stopped, a few stubborn drips continued to fall from branches, leaves, and pine needles. The previous rainfall and continued dampness in the air made it impossible to track Kyle’s scent. She sent an irritated glance at the now perfectly blue sky.
They continued on. They’d only been walking for half an hour, but Lena grew more and more worried with each step.
“I don’t think he’d disappear like this,” she said in a low voice.
Marcus made a low whining sound, letting her know he was listening. Then suddenly he froze. Lena stopped and listened. Voices sounded ahead, a low conversation.
She couldn’t hear the words, but she could understand whatever they were talking about was bad.
Charging forward, she was barely aware of Marcus at her side until he nudged against her. She stopped, and waited while he shifted into his human form.
“It’s Jase and some others,” he said.
They hurried forward in the direction of the voices.
She found Jase, Stetson, Markowicz, and a guy she didn’t know standing around a fifth person who was lying on the ground.
The world stalled and stuttered on its axis. She was back on the expansive property of Shaw’s mansion, searching the gullies and ravines for Sarah. And there she lay, surrounded already by a few of their pride mates, still and quiet. Lifeless.
Just as Kyle lay now.
“No,” Lena shouted.
An arc of blood soaked the leaves. Red against green and brown.
Lena pushed her way through the assembled shifters. Who had done this? One name sprang immediately into her mind, the person who had hated Kyle more than anything.
Reaching out to place her hand against Kyle’s cold forearm, Lena whispered, “Where’s Carter?”
“You haven’t seen Carter yet?” Jase asked. “He’s looking for you.”
Lena couldn’t speak at first; she could only shake her head. Could Carter really have done this? Someone had torn out Kyle’s throat—his neck was a mess of blood and flesh. “I don’t…I don’t understand. Kyle was here just…”
She sniffed and picked up Kyle’s death scent. But not only that, faint notes of rosewood.
“He wouldn’t,” she said, falling back from her heels to her ass. Water soaked into her pants, but she didn’t move.
“I don’t believe he did,” Jase said.
But his words sounded hollow, and they didn’t penetrate her mind with any real meaning. Carter’s rosewood scent on Kyle—she had smelled it.
“Come here.” Marcus took her by the arm and pulled her up, drawing her to him and leading her a few steps away from Kyle’s body.
They stood looking at each other, neither of them able to speak for a long moment. Lena wished she could turn off her brain, shut away the thoughts that hammered at her. Carter hated Kyle. Carter had attacked Kyle or goaded him into violent fights at every opportunity.
And now Kyle was dead.
Marcus finally spoke. “You don’t think Carter—”
“I don’t know,” Lena whispered.
She didn’t want to think he’d done it. But how could she really know? She’d only met him, what, a little over a week ago? That wasn’t long enough to really get to know
a person. She barely knew Marcus, and she’d barely known Kyle.
Sometimes evil could wait in a person, well-hidden.
Running footsteps reached her ears. Over Marcus’s shoulder, she saw a figure approaching. Dark hair, the scruff of dark whiskers, dark blue eyes wide with—an emotion. Fear? Confusion? Lena couldn’t tell.
She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to look at Carter right now. It hurt too much.
His fingers were warm against her hand. “Lena, I’m so sorry—”
“Don’t.” She spun away from him, out of his reach. “Don’t talk to me about him.”
“I—” He stopped abruptly.
Marcus had moved a few feet away, probably wanting to give her space to talk to Carter. But she didn’t want to talk to Carter—she wanted to fall against him and let him hold her until the pain eased.
Maybe Carter hadn’t done this to Kyle, Lena thought, but no doubt he was probably happy Kyle was gone.
It was a horrible thing to think, but she couldn’t make the thought go away.
They decided to bury Kyle. People began to move, gathering supplies.
Lena knelt by Kyle’s body and helped Marcus wrap him in a sheet. Jase and a couple of other guys were digging a grave, shovels scraping through mud and rock, a grating rhythm that made her wince. She felt as if she were being carved up, hollowed out like that hole in the earth.
Once Kyle was wrapped up, Marcus stood. He squeezed Lena’s shoulder, then offered to take one of the shovels and help dig.
The men worked without speaking. After several moments, the hole was dug, and Jase came over to squat next to Lena.
“Hey,” he said. “Do you want to say a few words?”
She blinked back tears and touched the sheet-wrapped form. “I barely knew him, but he was a kind man, a good friend.”
“Those are good words,” Jase said.
He and Marcus each took an end of the body and dropped it into the hole. The resulting thud caused Lena to flinch.
This wasn’t fucking fair. He shouldn’t have died.
22
Lena was hurting, and it fucking killed Carter that he wasn’t next to her, holding her, trying to take away the hurt.
