by Tina Donahue
“I do now. Give me the shovel.”
Nick held it out of reach. “I’ll dig.” He scanned the forest floor in every direction. “Nothing’s been disturbed here for a long time.”
“It—she has to be close.”
He checked the ground with Portia close behind. No matter where they stepped, the dirt was hard, packed tight, roots and vines peeking through, showing old growth. She kicked leaves aside, expecting to find a shallow grave. Those areas beneath the forest debris were untouched.
“Dammit, this doesn’t make sense. I was so sure—”
Nick clamped his hand over her mouth, yanked her to her knees behind a bush, and inclined his head.
A large, gray wolf darted between Ty’s cottage and Fran’s, a pail hanging from its mouth, teeth clamped on the handle like something in a humorous commercial or Disney flick. It trotted across the next yard and jumped through the open window of an empty cottage Nick hadn’t finished painting. Roofing repairs had interrupted him.
Portia tugged his hand away and pressed her lips to his ear. “Kent?”
He nodded.
She tested the air but didn’t catch the man’s scent. “Do you smell him?”
Nick sniffed. “No.”
“How is that possible? We’re downwind of him. I caught his scent in his store when he was in human form.”
“Maybe his DNA is different from other shifters, like yours is with that odor only you detect. Could be he can turn his scent off and on at will to meet his purposes, keep everyone off guard.”
“What do you think is in the pail?”
“Nothing good, that’s for sure.”
Portia pulled Nick down. “You can’t confront him before he actually does something. He’ll give you no end of excuses, and then he’ll be far more careful. We’ll never catch him.”
“That may be. But what if he’s planning to burn the cottage down, hoping the others go up in flames too, all of us dying?”
Crap. “If you’re going after him, so am I.”
“No.”
“Fine. I’ll go alone.”
“No!”
She’d already pulled off most of her clothes. Swearing, he stripped. They shifted faster than usual and stayed upwind to keep Kent from sensing their approach, their movements painfully slow, the journey seemingly endless. Creeping from bush to bush, they hid behind each and waited to see if he’d come out. Nick finally dashed to the porch with her in close pursuit. Using his muzzle, he nudged the door open enough for them to slip through.
The front room was empty, as were the kitchen, bath, and bedroom. Kent was already outside, bounding across the backyard, disappearing into the forest.
Portia shifted to human form, as did Nick. There was no furniture in here for Kent to have messed with, just paint cans, brushes, tools. “Do you think he screwed with the paint? Put poison in there so the fumes would make us sick? No, don’t check.”
He pulled her hand off his. “He didn’t open any of these. The dried stuff on the edges is still intact.”
They padded from room to room. In the kitchen, Nick wrinkled his nose and opened the cabinet beneath the sink.
“Whoa.” She held her breath. “What is that?”
“Primer, turpentine, paint, and thinner. These rags are soaked with it.”
“They’re not yours, right?”
“Hell no. Leaving this pile here would be nuts. When the cottage gets really hot, around midday or so, the fumes would ignite.”
“Spontaneous combustion?”
“Yep. Prick.” Nick looked up. “It’s not that I didn’t believe you before, but I certainly do now. Trish is out there somewhere. You and I are going to find her. We’re going to nail the bastard.”
Chapter Seven
Portia agreed with Nick that they should continue their search the following evening after everyone else was asleep.
When they were ready to return to the forest, she stopped him before leaving her cottage. “We should have told Ty what we’re doing. Our suspicions.”
“Why?”
“Kent. He’s sure to come by to see what happened with those rags he planted.”
“He could have driven past here during the day to check things out without us noticing. Even if he hadn’t wanted to risk that, a fire would have been on the news. Since there wasn’t a blaze, he must know by now that nothing happened.”
“Which will bring him back here to do something else. I doubt he’s going to give up. We can’t search for Trish and keep watch for him at the same time, especially since it appears he can hide his scent whenever he wants.”
Nick woke Ty, explaining the situation.
The poor guy looked slightly comical with his prominent freckles, red hair sticking in every direction, and bewildered expression. “Shouldn’t we tell Derek and Rand about this?”
“God, no.” Portia sounded unglued but couldn’t help it, since she was. “We’d like to keep this quiet until we have evidence to nail Kent.”
Ty made a face. “What about the rags he left in the cottage? He’d have a hard time explaining why he’d do that.”
“My guess is he’d simply claim it never happened. That Nick and I imagined the whole thing. It’s not like we have him on video planting the stuff, which we couldn’t use anyway given he’d shifted. What do we tell the authorities—those past Charlie and Jesse? That Kent has a trained wolf to do this stuff for him? I don’t think so. When it comes to the human justice system or the rest of the world in general, we’re pretty much screwed as shifters, and I’m sure he knows it.”
“Well yeah, but how long will your search take? There’s a lot of land out there. You could be at this for weeks or months.”
“Just this one night, promise.”
Nick looked surprised. “You’re sure? If we don’t find anything this evening, we tell the others what happened?”
Portia didn’t see another choice. Despite her worry the pack would consider her delusional or a problem they didn’t want around, she couldn’t risk their safety. “Yeah.”
Ty scratched his chest. “Go on. I’ll keep an eye on things. But for shit’s sake, be careful.”
Nick squeezed the guy’s shoulder. “Yes, Mom.”
After the guys pretended to box and ended with a brotherly hug, Nick followed her to the porch, shovel in hand. “Where to first?”
Portia pulled out the map she’d made and kept her voice to a whisper. “I’ve drawn the spots where I’ve caught the odor. I’d like to start here.” She pointed to a large red X on the paper, moonlight illuminating the sheet. “It’s in the center of those places. From there, we can work our way outward, rather than searching blindly as we have been.”
Ty slipped past them in wolf form and shot to the vegetation. Hidden within the brush, he sank to the ground, facing the community, alert for danger.
Nick took her hand. “Are you detecting the odor now, even a trace?”
“Not yet.”
“Let’s get started.”
The area was huge, taking quite a while for them to trudge to its center. Panting, they searched the ground, kicking leaves and other debris aside. Nick wedged his shovel beneath a rotted log and hefted it a foot above the ground. Creepy crawlies scattered from their hiding places, many running over her work boots.
Portia suppressed a shiver and hunkered down for a better look.
“See or smell anything?”
“No.”
They tossed aside rocks and moved limbs. Nick pounded the shovel tip into the ground, testing for soil that might have been disturbed at one time. Everything proved too solid, untouched by man.
She turned a slow circle, not knowing what to do next. “Come on, Trish, help us. Where. Are. You?”
The odor hit with such force, the corpse might have been hugging Portia. She staggered back.
Nick rushed over. “What?”
She wasn’t certain how to answer. There should have been an obvious grave here, except there wasn�
�t. It didn’t make sense…then unexpectedly, it did. “We’re on a blood trail.” Those visible traces would have faded long ago, though not the smell. “That’s what I’ve detected all along.”
“Leading where? Why haven’t we found the burial site?”
“Because it’s everywhere.” She flung out her arms. “Kent didn’t dump her in one spot. He scattered her.”
Even in the moonlight, Nick’s color faded. “She’s dismembered?”
“Or he tore her apart while he was in wolf form then buried or dumped her here.”
“If he dumped her, there won’t be anything left to recover. Animals would have taken care of that long ago.”
“Except for large bones and the skull. Those he would have had to bury or risk detection. Oh, God.”
“What?”
The stench was stronger than it had ever been. She wanted to believe Trish was proving the theory correct, guiding them to her remains. “We need to go over there.”
Portia pointed and followed the odor. It faded slightly. She swerved to the left, picking it up again, and broke into a run.
Nick called from behind, “Watch out for the log!”
She lurched to a stop, a breath away from falling over the thing. “Something’s here.”
The scent practically smothered her. She fell to her knees and shoved the trunk.
“Hold on.” Nick pulled her back. “I’ll get it.”
Using the shovel, he heaved the log to the side. It crashed against the ground, breaking into several pieces, sending dust and leaves flying. Insects swarmed in the shallow spot where it had laid, the ground dank and gooey. Portia was too riveted to care. In the drab light, something whitish poked through the muck.
They dug with their hands, unearthing a large bone. She sat on her heels. “That’s a femur, right?”
“Looks to be.”
“Human? An adult?”
“I’m no doctor, but I’d say yes.”
“Look.” She fingered the top, teeth marks in the bone, parts broken away. “A wolf could do that.”
“He must have torn her apart, just as you said.”
“I didn’t want to be right.” She bowed her head, fighting tears.
Nick pulled her into him then loosened his hold immediately. “Fuck, my hands are muddy. Give me a sec to wipe them off before I make you too dirty.”
“I don’t care.” She embraced him.
They hung onto each other. He stroked her back. “Is the odor still around?”
“Stronger than ever. There’s more we have to find.” The stench no longer made her ill. It smelled of justice and peace. Although Trish would always remain a stranger, Portia sensed a bond between them unlike anything she’d known.
Nick released her. “Where to now?”
She looked over, the odor drawing her. “To the left. Wait. What about the bone? We can’t rebury it. The cops would know someone screwed around with this place, contaminating evidence.”
“If we leave the bone here, uncovered, an animal will probably take off with it before we can bring anyone back.”
“We’ll have to take it with us. Whatever we find next, we better leave things as they are, as much as we can.”
“Agreed.”
She followed the invisible blood trail, took a detour to the right, and stopped.
Nick was beside her immediately, shovel in one hand, thighbone in his other. “Where?”
She pointed. Like the femur, a whitish object gleamed dully beneath bushes, barely visible in the scant moonlight. Someone would have had to look hard and long to have caught it.
Nick put down the shovel and bone.
On their knees, they eased aside branches, careful not to disturb the scene any more than necessary. Mud had partially buried the skull, its right side exposed, revealing an empty eye socket, nasal cavity, and upper teeth. Hair had tangled in the lower branches, the tresses long and blonde like Trish’s in her DMV photo.
The odor subsided then blasted back, thick and suffocating. Leaves rustled. Twigs snapped.
Portia looked over. Kent swung the shovel.
Nick shoved her away. The blade clipped his shoulder, blood pouring from the wound. She screamed. Backing away, Kent swung the shovel wildly. While dodging the blows, Nick shifted.
Portia changed as quickly. Canines bared, she approached from the opposite side, she and Nick surrounding Kent. He jabbed the shovel at Nick then suddenly hurled the thing at her. She leaped, the flat end smacking her croup. White-hot pain seared through her. She tumbled to the ground.
Nick howled, an unearthly sound fueled by rage. He jumped.
Kent spun away, shifting quickly, and bounded into the brush.
Nick followed a few yards then stopped and glanced back at her. She struggled to her paws and ran to him. Shoulder to shoulder they tore through the forest, predators and guardians, determined to protect and kill.
They may as well have been following a ghost. Kent’s gray fur matched the moonlight drizzling down. He had no damn smell due to a genetic mutation or from something he’d done to himself chemically.
If he got away….
The stench returned, beckoning, guiding. Portia ran toward it, Nick following her. They shot past saw palmettos and leaped over bushes. Gray flashed in the distance. Not moonlight.
Portia ran as never before, Nick by her side. He bolted ahead and nipped Kent’s tail. The wolf yelped and thrashed. Breaking free, he sped away.
No!
***
Blood drenched Nick’s shoulder, agony shooting through him with each move he made. Ignoring the pain, he pushed harder, ran swifter, and sunk his teeth into the SOB’s tail.
Kent jerked back and howled, but still fought to get free.
Nick bit into the tail, not enough to sever, but to deny escape. He swung Kent to the right and left as he would a rag doll or a carcass. Kent’s paws slammed into a large rock, his head knocked against a trunk. He still twisted and struggled, refusing to give up.
Portia bit his shoulder, tearing away the flesh.
Tortured sounds poured from him. He flailed his paws and snapped his teeth at her.
Nick clamped his jaws on the bastard’s throat, severing his jugular and carotid arteries. Kent stiffened then shuddered, his limbs twitching in death throes.
After spitting out the blood, Nick shifted as Portia had and crawled to her. “Are you all right?”
She wiped blood from her mouth, spitting it away as he had. “Yeah.”
“Let me see your hip where he hit you.”
“It’s okay. Your shoulder.” She touched the wound.
Already, the flow had stopped, his muscles bruised, no bones broken. “Did he bite you anywhere?”
“No. You?”
Nick shook his head. “If he had, I’d seriously consider getting rabies shots.”
She laughed then covered her face and cried.
“Hey, it’s over.” His hands hovered, him not knowing where to touch her, possibly upsetting her more. “Nothing to be sad about. I killed him. You didn’t.”
“Screw him. You could have died.” She grabbed his biceps and shook him hard. “Why do you keep taking risks?”
“To protect you.”
“To hell with that. I want you safe.”
“I’m fine. Nothing you say is going to change my mind about protecting you, got it?”
She growled and slammed her fist into her thigh.
“I’ll do my best. There’s something I have to ask you.”
“The answer is no. If you insist on being macho man and chancing death, I will, too, all right?”
“That’s not what I was getting at. And no, it’s not okay. But back to my question—how did you know where to find him without his scent?”
“Trish told me.”
Nick warned himself not to act surprised. “She’s speaking to you now?”
Portia laughed, somewhat hysterically. “I’m not hearing voices. The odor returned. I simply followe
d it to him. Who else but Trish could have sent it?”
No one that Nick knew of.
In death, Kent had reverted to human form, the gaping wound in his throat nearly decapitating him. Although Nick’s savagery surprised him, he didn’t regret what he’d done to save Portia and avenge Trish. He simply wished the situation hadn’t gone this far. “I’m glad she helped you out. We’ll have to leave him here while we go back and alert the others.”
“As in Derek and Rand, or them and the cops?”
“We’ll begin with the pack.”
They started back, arms around each other’s waists, needing the support. She limped from her bruised hip. He had trouble ignoring his gashed shoulder, which hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. Even holding onto the femur made his muscles tighten and ache. Once they’d pulled on their clothes, they dragged to the forest edge.
Portia inhaled sharply. Nick bit back an oath and strode to Ty, who’d shifted back to human form. On the ground, he held his head in his hands, and rocked.
Nick leaned down. “Did Kent hit you?”
“Someone fucking did. I was watching the cottages then bam, I woke up with the mother of all headaches.”
“Let me see.” Portia eased his hair aside. Ty winced. He had a huge bump on his skull, his hair matted with darkened blood.
Nick squeezed his shoulder. “You all right now, except for the pain?”
“No. I’m tired of this shit. I want things to return to the way they were before.”
Portia patted his knee. “They will. Right, Nick?”
Ty looked from her to him. “What’s that mean? You found something?”
“Kent. He’s dead. I killed him.” Nick pushed to his feet. “I’ll get Derek and Rand.”
***
Portia was beginning to hate Moonlight Diner. She could barely keep still as Nick explained the situation to the guys. Thankfully, they were the only pack members here, so far. When the rest were notified….
She didn’t want to think about it.
After Nick explained everything, Derek pushed into his chair, balancing it on the back legs. “Why didn’t you come to us before you involved yourself in this?”
“Oh hey, wait.” She leaned across the table to Derek. “It’s not Nick’s fault. It’s mine.”