Like hell I would sit there.
“I’m good standing.” I leaned against the built-in bookcase that was stacked with hundreds of books. Horrible Heath had apparently been an avid reader. Too bad it hadn’t made him a kinder person.
Frank rose from the couch and grabbed a wooden box from the coffee table, then walked over to Liam and Lucas. “An Alpha should be cunning.” He waved the box in the air. “You might be wondering why we decided to hold the meeting here. There is a reason for our choice of location. When Heath was sworn in, he was ordained to protect a very valuable pack artifact, which rested within these six little walls.” He slowly pivoted the box. “I use the past tense because it was stolen.”
“Maybe Heath got rid of what was inside,” I suggested.
Frank raised a single bushy eyebrow. “Why would he have broken the lock?”
“Because he misplaced the key?”
Eric grunted. “We’ve known about the theft for some time but haven’t acted upon recovering it until now. First we needed to locate the artifact, and we have. Julian Matz has it.”
Goose bumps the size of mosquito bites coated my arms. “So someone from the Pines stole it?”
“We don’t know who took it; we just know they have it.” Frank turned to Lucas. “So you see, Ness’s sociability with the Pines might serve her in this second trial.”
Lucas huffed.
“What exactly is it that we’re looking for?” Liam asked.
Although Frank looked at Liam, I didn’t. If I could, I would never, ever set my gaze on his face…ever again.
“A piece of petrified wood.”
“Seriously? We’re hunting down a piece of wood?” Lucas crossed his beefy forearms.
The barstool creaked as Liam shifted on it. “What’s so special about it?”
“Its properties only concern the Alpha, and us.” Frank pointed to himself and the four other older wolves.
That raised my curiosity a couple dozen notches. “And if we find it, can we know what it is?”
“If you become Alpha, Ness”—he side-eyed the graying wolves—“you’ll be privy to the information.”
From the way he’d glanced at the others, I could swear that he’d sooner believe in leprechauns prancing around Boulder with pots of gold than in me, Ness Clark, a girl, becoming his Alpha.
Little did he know I had Julian’s support.
Julian’s support…
Whoa.
Julian had said he’d help me become Alpha. Like the rocks that had trampled my body during the first trial, understanding knocked hard into me. Frank was right. Julian must’ve stolen it. He must’ve known they’d come searching for it.
A new scenario played out in my head: Heath finds out Julian stole from him, gets angry, threatens Julian, who comes over or sends over a thug—like Justin—and has Heath quieted forever.
The possibility that I hadn’t killed Heath thickened my blood, making it slide sluggishly through my organs.
“Do you think”—I moistened my lips with the tip of my tongue—“Julian had something to do with Heath’s death?”
“No.” It was Liam who answered. There was no hesitation in his voice.
I set my eyes on the black leather boot he’d crooked on his opposite knee. “How can you be sure?”
He hesitated a second before saying, “Because he knows the consequences of killing or backing the killing of another Alpha.”
“Which are?” The laces on both his boots were untied. I supposed it was on purpose. One boot would’ve been a coincidence, but not two.
“He and his entire pack can be razed.”
“Razed? You mean killed?”
“Yes.”
Well, there went my shred of hope. The vein in my neck palpitated with disappointment. I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my white denim shorts so that no one would spot how terribly my fingers trembled.
“What if they destroyed the piece of wood?” Lucas asked, which I hated to admit, was a relevant question.
Frank rubbed the day-old white growth on his chin. “Let’s hope they didn’t.”
“How long do we have to find it?” Liam asked next.
“Well”—Frank glanced behind him at Eric—“Robbie’s wedding is next weekend, and they’ve invited our pack to attend.”
“Hell, no. You can’t be serious.” Lucas flipped the baseball cap on his head from side to back. “It’s a trap.”
“We’ve considered this, Lucas, and although we don’t believe it’s a trap, we’ve decided that only me, Eric, and the three of you will be attending. It’ll give you the opportunity to locate the artifact without breaking and entering.” Frank opened the box and held it out toward me.
I frowned as I peered at the bare interior. Did he want me to confirm it was empty?
“Smell it, Ness.”
Oh. I dipped my nose and sniffed, and my eyes watered from the rancid odor. It was the way I imagined rotting bones smelled—dry chalk and tangy decay.
Frank moved to Lucas next, who took a deep whiff. “That’s foul.”
He held the box out to Liam. I didn’t look at him but imagined he wrinkled his nose, too.
James, the thick-waisted elder, rose from the couch and hooked his thumbs underneath the suspenders holding up his khakis. While the elders still turned into wolves on full moons, the rest of the time, they were humans with normal, slower metabolisms.
“The wedding’s taking place on Julian’s estate,” he said. “We believe our artifact’s stored on the premises, thus our reasoning for sending you all to the wedding. You boys will need tuxes and you, Ness, will need a gown. You all got some?”
“Yeah. Sure.” Lucas snorted. “Got a whole closet full of tuxes.”
“Rent one, Lucas,” Eric said. “Liam?”
“I have one, but I don’t know if it still fits. I’ll try it on tonight.”
“Ness?”
“No ball gowns in my closet. Is there a place I can rent one?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Eric said.
“Why don’t you ask one of your customers to buy you one?” Lucas shot out.
I snatched my hand out of my pocket and flipped him off, which just made him smile.
“I can ask the wife if she’s got one,” Eric offered. “She’s about your size.”
I blanched at his suggestion. If his wife was as old as he was, then I couldn’t imagine her owning anything I’d want to wear. But beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“Maybe Taryn has one she could lend Ness. They’re about the same height.” Liam’s suggestion made me as rigid as the bookcase.
I’d rather wear a vintage dress than anything owned by Terrible Taryn.
Lucas didn’t answer. I bet he was glaring at Liam.
I pinched my lips and muttered, “I’ll find something.”
A thought crawled into my mind. Perhaps I could ask Julian, as part of the package of helping me out.
“Okay, then.” Eric clapped his hands once to signal that the meeting was adjourned.
“I have one last question,” Liam started.
I scrutinized my grass-streaked sneakers.
He continued, “There’s only one thing to find and three of us.”
“Good question, son,” Frank said. “The person who finds it gets to choose his or her adversary for the last trial.”
I snapped my neck up, and my gaze collided with Liam’s. His dark eyes glinted with brutal hope…hope to disqualify me. I bet Lucas and Liam would even work together to retrieve it. Little did Liam know that Julian would give it to me.
I could finally eliminate Liam.
My heart pounded, and the adrenaline bled into my eyes. I felt them shifting. I blinked the transformation away.
When I cracked my lids, everyone had risen.
I peeled myself away from the bookcase and voiced the concern that had been gnawing at me for the last twenty-four hours. “Why wasn’t my father’s death avenged?”
Everyone fr
oze. Great waves of shame rolled over the elders’ weathered faces, excavating their wrinkles. Or maybe I wanted to believe it was shame. Maybe it was simply discomfort. There was an elephant in the room—me—and I was forcing them to acknowledge it.
“We haven’t avenged Heath’s death either,” one of the elders said, and a chill spider-crawled up my spine.
My eyesight dotted as blood pounded against my temples. Would the fact that it had been an accident sway them to spare me?
“I’m not talking about Heath right now.” Keeping my voice steady, even though my lungs felt vacuum-packed, I said, “I’m talking about my father. Why is Aidan Michaels still alive?”
No one spoke for a painfully long minute. Eric palmed his bald head, and Frank sighed.
“Why—” I was about to reiterate my question when James interrupted me.
“’Cause he’s got a detailed file on us, complete with pictures of us shifting.”
“So? Werewolves aren’t a secret,” I said.
“Just because a handful of people know about us in these parts doesn’t mean we want the entire world to find out werewolves are real. Do you realize how many crazies that sort of news would attract?”
I chewed on my bottom lip. “But if Aidan is dead, the file disappears. So it would be a win-win.”
“If he dies, the file gets released.”
“How?”
“He’s made copies, Ness. He’s given it to key people,” Frank explained. “Too many to track down. I’m sorry, but we just can’t risk it.”
I pursed my lips. “Was he punished at all, or did he get off scot-free?”
Frank scrubbed a hand against the back of his neck. “Heath reprimanded him. Told him that if he ever killed again, he’d stop doing business with Aidan.”
Heat scorched my eyes. “You’re kidding me. All Heath did was threaten to end his business dealings?” My voice echoed shrilly against the exposed wooden beams running across the ceiling. “Did he hate my father? Is that it? Did he hate him because he had a girl instead of a boy?”
“Ness…” Frank started, but I held up my palm.
“I thought Alphas were supposed to put the pack before everything else. I guess I was wrong.” My chest pounded with fierce breaths and fiercer heartbeats. I stalked out of the living room, out of the house like a wild creature, my gaze going in and out of focus.
I needed to calm down, and I needed to do it fast or my body would shift and rip up my favorite shorts and t-shirt, and force me to enter the inn in my birthday suit—again.
I yanked my phone out of my back pocket and typed Aidan’s name in the search engine. A second later, pages of data on him spewed over my screen. Only one thing interested me though. The minute I found it, I memorized the information, then I downloaded a recording app.
I would exact my own justice.
Chapter Thirty-One
When night fell, I borrowed a mountain bike from the inn’s private fleet and pedaled the three miles of rough trails that led to Aidan Michaels’s estate. Maybe he wouldn’t be home, but I was a patient person with a desperate need for answers and nothing better to do on a Wednesday night.
I could wait.
Fortunately for me, his palatial glass and stone house was lit up, cutting tall squares of light on the landscaped bushes and peach flagstones tiling the path to the front door. I pedaled harder, checking for security cameras. I was pretty sure I caught sight of several glowing red dots, but that could’ve been my overactive imagination.
I leaned my bike against the manicured bushes by the front door, then slid my phone out of my bag and turned on the microphone. After carefully placing it back inside my bag, I walked to the front door and punched the doorbell. Like a gong, the sound reverberated against the lofty panes of glass…against the walls of my chest.
As I waited, I licked my lips which felt chapped. Footsteps sounded inside the house, claws skittered on stone, and then a lock clicked and the door opened.
“Ness!”
Aidan grabbed the collar of his dog and held him back. The dog growled, not at his owner, but at me.
I’d forgotten he had a dog. I swiped my tongue against my lips again, praying he wouldn’t let the hound charge me. I’d have to kick it, and I didn’t like the idea of striking a dog.
“Is this about the discount?” he asked.
I jerked my gaze back up to Aidan. “The money?” I didn’t want that on tape. “No. It’s about my father.”
“Your father?” Behind his wire glasses, Aidan’s gaze roved over the darkness surrounding me as though searching the night for my father.
“The man you shot six years ago?” I sounded aggressive.
I needed to cool down or he’d slam the door in my face.
Or worse, he’d release his dog.
It growled again, slobber dripping down its jowls. My wolf bristled within.
“You must be mistaken. I’ve never shot a man.” Aidan’s navy eyes met mine with a disconcerting steadiness.
“He wasn’t a man when you shot him. But you know that. You know everything about us. Isn’t that why you asked me to dinner? Did you get lots of interesting material for your blackmail file?”
His lips thinned. “Careful, Ness. One phone call to the police, and I’ll show them your escort profile. I don’t think they’d take too well to a minor—”
“Because you think they’d take well to an old man paying said minor.”
His mouth quirked. “I’m not that old. Besides, I never paid you.”
The money in my account had been wired from the agency, but cops could trace his payment to the agency, unless it was made in cash. “Look, I didn’t come here to blackmail you into apologizing for what you did to me or to my father. I don’t even care if you took me out to dinner to gather information on my pack. The reason I came here was to get closure. To understand why you shot him.”
His gaze flicked again to the darkness, and it dawned on me to check the hand that wasn’t holding the dog—check for rifles or knives or whatever weapon a crazy, werewolf-hating recluse could wield. The fingers of his right hand were empty, simply toying with his earlobe.
“I shot a wolf that was on my property. I didn’t shoot your father.”
He was careful with his words, as though he was aware I was recording him. But he couldn’t know. My phone was wedged deep inside my bag.
“Then why didn’t you shoot the other wolf he was with?” I asked.
Aidan studied my face. “The little one wasn’t threatening.”
“The big one wasn’t threatening you either.”
“It was on my property,” he repeated, as though that was a sound reason for murder.
“So was the little one.”
His eyes bore into mine. “In hindsight, I should’ve shot the little one.”
“But you didn’t shoot…me.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed and rippled the lax, stubbly skin of his neck. “Want the truth, Ness Clark?”
I crossed my arms in front of my tank top, which stuck to my back. “That’s what I came here for.” Sweat beaded between my breasts but quickly absorbed into the fabric of my hot pink bra.
“Packs have Alphas. Alphas are larger than other wolves.”
I frowned, but then his words sunk into me like the perspiration into my clothes. “My father wasn’t the Alpha.”
“It was dark. And there was a small wolf next to a larger one. How was I to know it was a pup?”
“So you meant to kill Heath? My father’s death was a…a mistake?”
Aidan nodded.
Damn. Speak the freaking words! I tried to rephrase my question so it required a verbal response when his hand skidded off his earlobe. In the next instant, he’d released his hound and grabbed a rifle which he pointed at my chest. I shut my eyes, expecting the hound to pummel into me, but it flew toward the tall pines hedging the property.
I started inching backward when he hissed, “You move, I shoot.”
Hi
s hound snarled, and then it didn’t. Bones snapped. And then silence.
I strained to look behind me, but my vision was hazy with fear.
“They just killed my dog,” Aidan whispered, a manic inflection to his tone.
Who’d just killed—
He shoved the barrel of his rifle into my chest, jerking my attention back to him. “They leave me no choice but to kill theirs.”
Theirs? Was he referring to me? Adrenaline spiked through me, clearing the haze. I gripped the barrel and shoved it upward. A shot detonated. I jammed the butt of the rifle hard into his shoulder blade. His grip faltered, but he didn’t drop the weapon.
Growls resonated behind me, and Aidan’s eyes turned wild with bloodlust. He cocked the rifle. I tried to ram it into his shoulder again, but sweat had slickened my palms, and my hands slipped. Aidan ripped the rifle from my fingers and pointed it at the wolves behind me.
The wolves who’d just come to help. Who didn’t deserve to get shot.
“Go!” I yelled as I stepped in front of the still-warm muzzle.
My heart spun like a flicked top. I shrieked the word again, but neither wolf moved. I could smell them mere feet away from me, like I could smell the sharp stench of gunpowder.
Aidan’s knuckle flexed.
My body reacted. My fingernails lengthened into claws. I punched the rifle away again. The shot flew wide. As he actioned the bolt, I swiped my claws over his sideburns, ripping hair and skin. Blood dribbled down his throat.
“You little cunt,” he growled.
I bounced away from him as he stared at his bloodied fingers, momentarily forgetting about the weapon in his hands. Why had I stepped back? I shouldn’t have stepped back… I needed to take the rifle from him.
I lunged for him again, and he swung the rifle into my cheek. My neck cracked, but I didn’t fall. The hot metal barrel scorched my skin, and the blow had my ears ringing.
“Crazy bitch!” He shouldered his rifle again.
“Better not shoot me in human form,” I said. “You wouldn’t be able to pass it off as a…hunting accident.”
He angled the gun’s muzzle on my thigh. My ears rang louder. If he spoke, if the wolves behind me howled, the sounds were lost to me.
A Pack of Blood and Lies Page 17