by Kitt Rose
I wouldn't sleep. Couldn't. Not here. Not where it wasn't safe.
Footsteps sounded in the hall. They paused in front of the room, and the door opened a hair. Careful not to wake Libby, I rolled her onto the mattress and hurried to the door.
Joshua stood outside, alone, without Johnny.
Alarm filled me for a moment, then eased when Joshua shook his head.
“We didn't find anything.”
“Nothing?” I asked in disbelief.
“I realize you haven't seen outside, but it's pouring. The scents are washed away. I'm sorry.”
I swore. Viciously.
“That's about what I said.”
“Did you get anything from Aaron's fur? Whatever was left of his clothing?” Even in the most violent shifts, scraps tended to linger. It was an annoyance to them in the moment, but maybe this time, it could help.
Joshua hesitated. “The smell of Aaron's blood was strong, nearly overpowering… But there was another scent underneath, besides your mates. I wasn't able to place it.”
I stared at my Alpha. It didn't seem likely that Joshua, who had been a part of this pack for more than half a century and knew every wolf he had ever laid nose on in that time, wouldn't recognize a scent.
Beyond that, I knew Joshua fairly well. Well enough to be damn sure that my Alpha had just lied to me.
23
Ash
Years of practice pretending with my Alpha kept my expression neutral. For once, I was grateful Joshua and I didn't get along.
“Damn,” I muttered, yanking a hand through my hair. “Okay. That's okay. We'll get this guy another way. Thank you, Joshua. Really. For everything. For saving my mate.”
Why the fuck was Joshua lying to him? He had saved Libby so he couldn't be involved. Could he?
My mind spun as my Alpha patted me on the shoulder. “I'm sorry I couldn't get more. I sent Johnny home. He's going to bring me something of Libby's with the scent, we can ask around. We'll find your Protean and his witch. Don't worry, Ash. And according to the doc, Aaron came through surgery as well as can be expected. He might know more once he's awake.”
“That's true.” I didn't have to fake the hope in that.
“Well, I'm going to head home. You keep me updated, and if you need anything, you know where to find me.”
Joshua patted my shoulder and turned to walk away. I waited until he was out of sight, and then I moved.
In the waiting room, Libby's grandparents, Pete and Tabby, were keeping vigil. Waiting for their son to wake up.
“Pete, can you go sit with Libby? I have something I need to do, but I don't want to leave her alone. She's really shook up.”
“Of course,” Pete said, standing.
Tabby stood with him, and I led them both to the closed door.
“I'll be back as soon as I can. I have my—” I stopped, patting my pockets, then realized I was missing both my boots and my phone. “Shit.”
Ducking back into the room, I grabbed them, then crept back out of the room, taking one last lingering look at my mate. Slipping on the boots, I tucked the phone into my pocket.
“Now, I have my phone if you need anything. Or if she wakes up.”
“Don't worry, Ash. We'll keep watch,” Tabby said before moving into the room.
Knowing she was safe with her grandparents, I went to the nurses' station to ask for the doctor who had first seen Aaron. I needed to get my hands on whatever remained of Aaron's clothing. A new nurse was on duty, one I knew well.
I smiled. “Hey Krissy.”
The woman was a friend of Izzy's and a few years younger than me.
Krissy smiled, smoothing her reddish-blonde hair back from her face. Her blue eyes were bright, and a faint wash of pink tinted her cheeks. “Hi Ash.”
“I was wondering if you could do me a favor?” I felt bad for ignoring pleasantries, but I was too anxious. “Do you think you could locate whatever clothing came in with Aaron Dahl this afternoon?”
She frowned.
“I’m sure you heard he was attacked. Arrived in wolf form. Joshua went back to the site, but the rain washed away any scents that might have remained. I wanted to see if maybe there was any on his clothing when he came in. If I'd had thought of it when I got here, I would have smelled him, but after surgery and everything I'm pretty sure that ship's sailed.”
Krissy's frown eased and she knit her eyebrows in thought. “Yeah, but they would have shaved him, too. Let me see if housekeeping has taken the biohazard bag. If they haven't, I might be able to help. If they took it…” She trailed off, her meaning clear. If they'd taken the bag, I was shit out of luck.
“Thanks, I really appreciate it.”
She disappeared, walking at a brisk pace. I drummed my fingers on the counter while I waited. Patience wasn't my strong suit. Thankfully, it wasn't long before Krissy came back.
She held up a clear plastic bag with a biohazard symbol on it with a toothy grin on her face.
For the first time in what felt like days, I smiled. “You got it?”
“Fur, and a few scraps of clothing.”
I took the bag and carefully dumped the contents onto the counter. A scrap of denim, a few pieces of what must have been Aaron's shirt, and a pile of fur.
It seemed like luck was on my side.
“Thank you, Krissy. This is great.”
She beamed with the praise, then walked over to a computer, leaving me to my task.
I wouldn't forget her help.
Getting a scent from this was my best chance at finding Libby's tormenter. The pressure was palpable. I inhaled deeply, holding the air in my lungs before expelling it hard through my nose. I brought the small bits of fabric to my nose and drew in their scents. There were more than I'd anticipated. Separating them took a few minutes.
The weakest of the scents I discarded. There were four that stood out. Four were recent and strong enough to indicate close contact. Libby, Joshua, Greg, and Duke.
Libby was obvious. Duke worked with Aaron. Yesterday, Duke covered for Aaron so he could guard Libby.
Which left my Alpha and his son. Joshua had carried Aaron to his truck. And Greg's scent could have been in that truck.
No one scent connected. But…
What if Joshua was responsible? Or Greg?
Theoretically, Joshua could have cut through the wheat, ran to his truck, and met Libby along the road. The scenario was a stretch, but it was one of the few explanations as to why Joshua would have lied. Plus, why had he been on that road in the first place? And why hadn't Aaron's attacker simply disabled him and then gone after Libby? No matter how fast she had run, she had been on that road, alone and unprotected. No Protean would have had trouble catching her.
My mind was swimming, fear like ice in my veins.
I didn't like being prey, never had. I liked it even less when my mate was prey for something bigger and badder than she was.
The other possibility was Greg. Libby had suggested him before for some reason. But it was so difficult to wrap my mind around Greg. He had never shown so much as an inkling of resentment or anger at me for taking the next Alpha spot. But it would explain why Joshua had lied—to protect his son.
There were some things that, when I really thought about it, didn't sit well with me regarding Greg. He had never taken a mate. Staying single was not that unusual for a Protean, but very odd for an Alpha's son. Especially one who had been groomed to take the role before my first shift.
I knew for a fact that Greg had been approached by a few potential mates, but he had turned them all down. Greg was also something of a chameleon. He was primarily a loner but flitted between the different groups in town with ease, seeming to blend in effortlessly with all of them. Yet, I didn't think that Greg had any true friends. I didn't know Greg from Adam, and it reminded me of every single interview I'd ever heard where the neighbor or coworker of a serial killer was questioned about the guilty.
“He seemed like such a nice boy. Q
uiet, always kept to himself. Polite but reserved.”
Greg to a T. It made me uneasy. There was little about the whole situation that didn't make me uneasy.
I made my way back to Libby's room. Pete was in the hall, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, standing guard.
Pete met my gaze and the old man nodded, pushing off the wall. “Got a moment?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
“Been thinking about this. Believe you should call a pack meeting. Let everyone know you found your mate, and who she is. Lot of 'em my age, your age and everything in between are bound to remember Libby. Tell them what's going on, who you're looking for. Then wait and watch,” Pete said in an even voice. His eyes were hard and determined.
I considered the proposal. “It isn't an entirely bad idea. Besides, I think word's going to be out pretty quick that I have a mate. I mean, somehow the doctor knew.”
“Joshua told me Libby announced it when they got here,” Pete said.
I blinked in surprise. “Wonder why she did that. Not that I'm complaining, just a bit surprised. She's still not completely sure about this whole thing, probably even less so now.”
“My granddaughter loves you. She always has.”
Warmth flushed through my veins and I couldn't stop the smile that skimmed my mouth. Damn, but it felt good to hear that. “I don't doubt that she loves me. But Libby's experienced more than her fair share of loss and pain. It's changed her and she spooks easily now. But aside from that, I'm not completely sure it's a good idea to tell the Pack that there's someone hunting Libby. And telling them that she's probably been targeted to get to me makes me look egotistical or weak.”
“Weak how? You're using your strongest ally, the Pack. And why wouldn't you tell them? After what happened today, this bastard has got to know you're looking for him, hunting him in return.”
Another good point. One I would have to consider more. Weigh the options.
“I'll think about it. Can't do anything now, but maybe we wait until Aaron's conscious. Joshua pointed out that he might know who's responsible.”
“If he remembers when he wakes up,” Pete said.
“Shit. We should put a guard on him.”
Pete jolted, then swore. “I'll go.”
As Pete hurried down the hallway to locate his son, I pulled out my cell phone and called Duke. Concisely, I explained the situation and asked that Duke work with Pete to schedule round-the-clock watches.
If the Protean responsible learned that Aaron survived the attack, it was likely that he would try to finish the job. Libby had lost too many loved ones already. I'd be damned to the fires of Tartarus if I let her lose her father too. As soon as Aaron was able to be moved, I'd bring him home, set him up in Elliot's room. Keep everyone close. Keep everyone safe.
It made me anxious to think about it. An Alpha's sole purpose was to protect the Pack. But how did you protect it from itself? Or rather, from one bad apple hidden in the bushel?
24
Libby
Daniel was smiling. His eyes danced in the low light of the parking lot. My husband's smile, and the way it lit up the world with infectious joy, that was what had first attracted me to him. It was impossible for me not to mirror his joy.
As we walked to the car in the sticky Georgia twilight, he reached over and grabbed my hand, threading his fingers through mine. He gave me a tug, and my shoulder bumped into his. The smell of sandalwood and cinnamon wafted off him, making me want to stick my nose in his neck and sniff. I giggled at the thought.
“What?” he asked.
I waved my hand at him. “You.”
“What about me makes you laugh?” he asked, slipping his arm around my shoulder.
I shook my head, biting my lip, as we reached the car.
Like always, Daniel opened my door first. And, as he had started doing a few months ago, he helped me into the seat, closing the door softly behind me. He treated me with such care. Like I was precious. I smiled to myself, watching his lean figure circle around the front of the car and climb in.
I blinked, the night going vague and misty around me. I felt strange… I'd been here before. Right here. Frowning, I rubbed my forehead.
Daniel climbed into the car.
“Tonight, was nice,” I said as he pulled out of the parking spot of our favorite rib place.
“It was,” Daniel agreed, pulling onto the dark county road. “I love this place.”
I did too. It wasn't much to look at, not remotely convenient at thirty minutes outside of town, but it was also the place he'd taken me for our first date. Where we'd had our version of a reception after getting married at the county courthouse four years ago.
“Can you believe it's been four years?” I asked him, fingering the simple gold band on my finger. For a moment, the circle wasn't there. My finger was bare.
I blinked, and then the ring was there again.
He hummed, and I wasn't sure if it was in agreement or not. It didn't really matter. There were very few things in life I was sure of, but Daniel's love was one of them.
I really didn't deserve him.
A sharp thump in my middle drew my eyes down, and I folded my hands over my swollen belly, grinning. He would treat this baby like she was a princess. Spoiled was going to be her middle name if he had his way, and I wasn't about to stop him. Our child would have everything I never did. Two parents, together, who were actually there. It didn't matter that she hadn't been planned, we had both been ecstatic about the pregnancy, and these last months had been my happiest in memory.
A wave of sadness crested inside me, my vision blurring to darkness. And then the dark vanished, and I was happy again.
“You okay?” Daniel asked, reaching over to place a hand on top of mine.
How I loved his hands. They were elegant, with long slim fingers.
Blood coated his hand, dripping… I recoiled. But then his hand was clean, skin unmarred.
“Yes. Your daughter seems to like ribs though. Kicking them, that is. She's all wound up tonight.”
And as if she'd heard me, and wanted to perform for her daddy, she gave me another swift kick to the side.
Daniel laughed, the sound as infectious as his smile. “I felt that one!”
I looked over at him, turning my hand over to hold his. There had been times, over the years, where I had wondered if I'd made the right choice all those years ago. But right here, right now… I was sure. This was meant to be. Daniel, me, and—
Bright, blinding lights pierced through my haze of joy. Daniel turned, looking out his window.
“No,” he shouted, yanking his hand from mine. He was in motion, hands on the wheel, as the lights grew brighter.
Time was wrong. All wrong. Moving too slowly.
The sound of grinding metal. Breaking glass. A high-pitch cry—my cry—filled my head. We slammed to a halt, then catapulted away. The world was spinning.
Daniel screamed my name.
I squeezed my eyes shut a millisecond before everything else disappeared in pain. Agony like I'd never known. Forward, sideways, all momentum stopped in a catastrophic crunch of metal.
Something solid slammed into my belly. Something inside me ruptured, a balloon exploding. My leg turned, in a way it was never meant to. And my voice went shrill, the pressure inside me rising too fast.
I blinked, seeing white sheets and an IV bag. Then Daniel was calling my name. I blinked again and it was gone. The world was dark, blurry. Numb. Something squeezed my hand, and I squeezed it back.
“Libby,” Daniel's voice was too quiet.
Pain bolted down my neck as I turned, reawakening my body. Igniting the agony.
“Daniel,” I cried.
His face. Covered in blood. Misshapen. Somehow. He was bent over the steering wheel, the airbag deployed. The shimmer of glass in his hair.
Dripping.
Wet.
Tears and blood. Blood and tears.
Suddenly my
abdomen contracted. Violently.
Anguish.
I gritted my teeth. Shifted my legs. Oh, what a mistake.
Lightning, red-hot, bolted down my body.
Oh! Wet. Everything felt wet.
I closed my eyes, brightness flashed behind my lids, strobe lights. Then looked down. I was pinned, the dash in my lap. My stomach.
My baby. Our daughter!
“Libby.” Daniel's voice pulled me from a spiral of panic.
I turned too fast, wincing.
A different kind of panic filled me then. Daniel's grip on my hand was too light, his hand colder than it should have been. His eyes were unfocused.
“I love you.” His voice slurred.
I was losing him. Again. It was happening again. No. Not him. Nononononono.
Tears, hot and fierce, started. Each hitching breath, suffering redefined.
“I love you too,” I whispered.
His voice was even softer. Too soft. Watery. “Our daughter—”
Another cramp, stronger this time. I fought not to react. Six months was too soon. I was going to lose them both. My husband and my child. Why?
“—I liked the name Sarah,” he gasped.
I nodded. “Sarah. I like that too,” I said. “I’ll name her Sarah.”
Dear God, why!
His hand squeezed mine, a smile, grotesquely misshapen, a sick parody of his normal brightness. Then he exhaled, a high wheezing sound that ended in a sob.
And then he died.
“Daniel,” I screamed—
“Libby!” Ash's voice, yelling my name, pulled me awake.
I bolted upright in bed, hands flying to my flat stomach, tears coursing down my face. A dream… It had been a nightmare. A memory I was forced to relive repeatedly.
“Libby,” Ash whispered, his hand on my face.
I shook myself, physically jittered myself out of the painful past and back into the present. Ash's violet eyes were wide, concerned. I forced myself to tip my lips in some anorexic version of a smile. Little comfort or reassurance when I suspected I was white as a sheet.
“What happened? You were screaming,” he asked.