“I just need to speak with her.”
“What do you need to say?”
He shook his head. “I love her.”
“I can tell her for you—”
He slammed his injured hand on the table. “It has to be from me!”
Zane was starting to sound hysterical, so I helped Jane gather her papers, reassured Zane that I would check in on Zeezee, and notified the sheriff that we were ready to leave the meeting room but that someone should keep an eye on Zane in case he needed sedation. When the sheriff had promised that Zane would be held alone, Jane and I walked with the officer to the lobby.
“What you saw today… Werewolves don’t do that,” I said. “We kill for dominance, territory, defense—”
“Food.” The sheriff lifted her dark brows, her mouth set in a grim line.
I acknowledged it with a nod. “There have been some sick werewolves in the past—not here, not now, but they do exist. It wasn’t him. All you have to do is talk to him for five seconds to realize he’s a submissive wolf. He doesn’t have any violent drives except defense. Even then, submissive wolves always choose flight over fight.”
She held up her hands. “I have a room full of mauled people and one werewolf survivor who was covered in blood.” She tilted down her chin, and though she wasn’t any taller than I was, I had the distinct feeling the woman was looking down at me. The sheriff sighed. “The wounds are being examined by experts. If you’ll approve of us taking casts of his teeth and claws—”
“If I’m here, yes.”
The sheriff pursed her lips and nodded, stopping at the end of the hall before the lobby. She lowered her voice to a near whisper. “Something shredded those people. This doctor was the only shifter in attendance and the only survivor.”
“And he’s innocent,” I added.
“Maybe he is. That burden is on you, I’m afraid, Alpha—or do I call you Scarlet?” she asked.
“Still trying to figure that one myself.” I nodded. “Let’s just do Scarlet, as long as I can call you by your first name.”
“Darlene,” the sheriff said. “As I said, Scarlet, this office is putting our resources into finding evidence that Dr. Zane Reed is guilty, and it’s not looking like that’s going to be a hard task. The burden to prove otherwise is on you.”
My wolf surged forward, furious at the insult to one of ours, but I pushed her down. Losing my shit in this moment might feel good, but it wasn’t going to help Zane.
Mack waited for me in the lobby. Thank all that was holy that there was no sign of his mother. Even though I was relieved we weren’t about to have another face-off, I was smart enough not to take her departure as a good sign. If we didn’t have an all-out war on our hands yet, we would soon.
Mack took my shoulders and held me at arm’s length, his familiar and beloved features creasing with concern. “How’d it go?”
“It went,” I said with a sigh. I reached up to smooth the little furrow between his brows with my thumb. “I’m sorry about causing shit between you and your mother. You don’t deserve to be dragged into this.”
“Scarlet, there’s only ever been shit between my mother and me. You would know that if you’d let me bring you into my life before disaster hit.” His aquamarine eyes searched mine. “Like I’ve been telling you for a month, plus, a confrontation between our families was always going to be inevitable. If you’d let me do it the right way, as I’ve been trying to do…” He gave me a look that clearly said things would have gone different if I’d just listened to him.
“Are you seriously taking this opportunity to tell me that you told me so?” I lifted my brows, but for some reason, getting grief from Mack about this old argument was making me feel worlds better. He wanted us to blend our lives after years of keeping them very much separate. And he had a point. Withholding that information had nearly gotten us both killed.
Mack gave a little smile, drew me into his arms, and kissed my forehead. “I will always take any opportunity to tell you that I told you so, Scar.”
“Well, at least you’re consistently a butthead,” I said, wrapping my arms around him and laying my head on his chest, reveling in the strength and safety of his arms for just a few seconds before I had to pull away.
He opened his mouth, but then he closed it and shook his head. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“What? You were going to say something.”
He shook his head again. “It doesn’t matter. Not right now, anyway.”
“Okay…” I stretched out the word. “Well, then, I better get back home before someone lights Meadows on fire.”
Mack’s eyes flickered, but I couldn’t read his expression before he smiled and chucked my chin. “We can’t have that.”
I wanted to ask him what that look was about and what he wasn’t telling me, but it would have to wait. I couldn’t ask in front of Jane or in the lobby of a police station. And maybe some small part of me was afraid to hear the answer. So, I said nothing more as Mack walked us to my car.
Chapter Six
Lance
I rubbed my aching eyelids before blinking a few times and focusing back on my book. Within the book of Pre-Islamic Arabian mythological spirits and monsters, I examined the ink drawing of a ghoul. Darrel had already said that the drawing bore little resemblance to what they’d seen before my twin decided to “go check on his bike.” That was an hour ago. There was little doubt in my mind that he was just waiting in the lot, making sure that monsters weren’t lying in wait for Scarlet’s arrival.
For probably the thirtieth time, I had the overpowering urge to go down there and check if he needed help. Who the fuck was I kidding? I wanted to check if she’d arrived. But neither Scarlet nor Darrel would want me there. Would they just take off to be alone together without updating me?
Fuck that.
I closed the book. I’d already combed through modern ghoul hunter’s safety guides and crypt guides. There were mentions of ghouls shape-shifting to become animals or humans they’d consumed, but nothing about elongated bodies, engorged tongues and genitals, or having no eyes. The mythological accounts of ghouls confirmed that modern ghouls hadn’t evolved in thousands of years. The only thing the creature that attacked Scarlet had in common with ghouls was the smell, and there were hundreds of creatures that smelled like rotting corpses.
Heading back to the necromantic shelf, I traced my finger over the spines. I really only had a basic collection.
Across the apartment, the door opened, and Darrel’s voice echoed through the space. There was the whisper of a hand moving over cloth, probably him rubbing his hand over her back, and then he asked, “They’re not going to release him?”
“No.” Scarlet sounded bone-tired and a little angry. “And it’s definitely better that way.”
“Hey, come here.” There was the soft smack of her lips pressing to his.
Fuck.
Jealousy kicked me in the gut with steel-toed boots. After nearly a month of listening to those two play house, I should be fucking used to it. But knowing that Scarlet and I might never have what she and Darrel found in one another stabbed me like a serrated knife. That feeling should have lessened with time, but it hadn’t.
Of all the people in the world, I didn’t begrudge Darrel happiness. The man lived, day in, day out, to help others. Hell, several people owed him their lives. I owed him my life. He’d killed for me. He’d never once complained that fae carved up his face while he was protecting his pack.
Darrel was the best man I knew, bar none. He deserved Scarlet’s love, and I didn’t. I never would. Maybe they weren’t in love yet, but they were heading there. Anyone with eyes could see it every time they looked at each other. It was the primary reason I stayed away on the days Darrel was here. When Aaron was here, I couldn’t give a fuck. He had a thicker shell than me. But right here and now, hearing the soft whisper of their voices in the other room, it was fucking killing me inside.
“Let’s eat,�
�� Darrel said. “We missed dinner, and you’ve had a long day.”
“You didn’t have to cook for us,” Scarlet said, sounding exhausted. “Or wait for me. Now you missed dinner, too.”
The smell of frying onions wafted in from the kitchen, and my stomach growled, but I wasn’t about to leave my room to feel like shit where they could see me.
Jane’s voice interrupted my dark thoughts. “They’re holding him for ninety-six hours. After the confrontation with Queen Titania, Scarlet and I were considering if it was prudent to wave Dr. Reed’s rights and ask the Sheriff to hold him for longer.”
That had me out of my chair and rushing into the living room.
“Queen Titania?” I demanded as I walked into the kitchen, finding Jane and Scarlet both sitting at our four-person wooden table, combing through their phones while Darrel chopped vegetables.
“Yeah,” Scarlet said. “I got in a verbal showdown with the Spring Queen herself in the police station waiting room. But it looks like she’s going to give me a few days of peace before all hell breaks loose.” She pushed away her phone, let out a heavy sigh, and then raised her head to look at me. “She wants me to hand over Zane the moment he’s released. Like a fucking sacrificial lamb. The police aren’t exactly on our side, either. They think Zane’s guilty.”
“What do you think?” Darrel asked as he transferred peppers over from the cutting board.
“I actually want to hear what Jane thinks first,” Scarlet said, turning her attention to the lawyer.
“It doesn’t matter what I think.” Jane didn’t look up from her phone, and I would have taken it as a sign of disrespect if I didn’t know the woman. She pulled this shit all the time.
I leaned against the wall. “Scarlet wants to know, and when she asks you, you’ll please answer, just as you would have done for me.”
Scarlet raised her hands. “No. If you want to keep your opinions to yourself, that’s fine. They belong to you.”
Jane lifted her gaze slowly, worked her jaw back and forth, and then said, “It’s too early to make any conclusions, but if I had to say now, I would tell you that you should prepare for the possibility that your werewolf is guilty.”
Scarlet’s shoulders sagged. “You saw him. You think that man killed twenty-six people?”
“I did, and I think it’s a possibility.” When Scarlet looked like she was going to argue, Jane whispered, “Alpha, with all due respect, this is why I don’t like to give my impressions early or work with emotionally involved parties in the investigation.”
Scarlet snapped her jaw shut and squeezed closed her eyes. Reaching up, she rubbed her forehead. “You’re right. I apologize. Can we just start over?” She blew out a heavy breath. “Please, tell me what you think. I’ll keep my shit together.”
Without even meaning to, I slipped into the seat beside Scarlet. A moment later, Darrel set down plates of sausage and potatoes, and when Scarlet made to help him, he said, “You, eat.”
She pointed back into his face. “You’re letting me do dishes.”
Hell no, he wasn’t. I would be doing the dishes. Scarlet would be going to bed, or another relaxing activity that wasn’t working.
Jane took the time granted to her by the arrival of the food and didn’t say anything until we had all made it halfway through the hearty meal. Thinking she might try to slip out of it, I gave my lawyer a look. “What were your initial observations, and why are you leaning toward guilty?”
Jane set down her fork and sat straight. “I’m not leaning toward anything yet. All I meant to say is that from an objective perspective—”
“It’s fine, you can be honest,” Scarlet cut in. “And sorry for being an asshole and interrupting you.”
Jane smiled a little at that. “There is no doctor at Arcata Memorial named Stan. Well, there was a Stan that worked there, but according to the website, Stan transferred three weeks ago to Riverside, making it unlikely that he canceled on this party. I am almost certain from the moments he squirmed and the words he let slip that Dr. Zane Reed went to that party with someone, and everyone else at that party is dead, Meaning, he is concealing his relationship with a murdered friend or lover.” She turned around her phone, showing the image of a beautiful woman with dark hair. “Marisa Tyler, a human prenatal nurse at Arcata Memorial, was among the dead at the party.”
Scarlet gripped her fork, but her voice was even when she said, “This is a very small town. Maybe it’s a coincidence.”
“I’m not ruling that out.” Jane nodded. “Dr. Reed and Ms. Tyler worked in different areas of the hospital, so it’s possible they’d never met before.” Judging from her expression, she was humoring Scarlet.
Scarlet shifted in her chair, so her arm brushed mine. I didn’t think she did it consciously, but I could practically feel how uncomfortable she was. “Submissive wolves don’t just go around massacring humans. That would never happen.”
Jane inhaled through her nose. “I’m going to have to disagree with you, Alpha. Submissive wolves sometimes kill as a fight-or-flight reaction. Dr. Reed admitted that he lost control of his wolf during the party. The way he described this party, everyone except him was a threat. When overwhelmed by fear, submissive wolves have been known to lose sight of what is and isn’t a threat.”
“Teenagers,” Scarlet said. “Zane is far from a teenage wolf with control issues.”
Even though she was still arguing, I could hear the defeat in Scarlet’s voice. Between puberty and adulthood, there was a period of time in most werewolves lives when changing back and forth between human and wolf went haywire. For some dominants, it was every time they were taken over with the urge to protect, fight, or fuck. Understandably, it happened a lot. With stronger dominants, there usually came more control.
On the other side of the fence, submissive wolves lost control when gripped with fear. In this way, alphas didn’t need to worry about our submissives as much. They could have normal teen fights and romantic relationships without mauling each other. In a healthy pack, submissive wolves were cherished and protected doggedly by dominant wolves. They were the ones who kept us from killing each other. But a submissive werewolf whose wolf was in a panic was the most dangerous werewolf of all.
Jane took a moment to respond, her expression almost as if she were breaking bad news to a loved one. “What do you think is more likely, twenty-six people are a threat out of nowhere and a werewolf flees or a werewolf perceives twenty-six people as a threat, his wolf takes control, and he attacks defensively? Dr. Reed almost lost control in the interview. My wolf could feel it. The only reason he didn’t was because there was a dominant wolf present. There weren’t any dominant wolves at the party. He already admitted he lost control. I think what’s in question is did he lose control at the end of the party or at the beginning?”
Scarlet stood. “Look. Zane said that the fae and humans were killing each other, it brought his wolf out, and then he panicked and hid. If the order of events was different, then he flat out lied—”
“Which wouldn’t be the first time he flat out lied in the interview. Maybe he didn’t lie so much as he perceived a danger that didn’t exist.” As if Jane just realized that she had interrupted an alpha after she finished her argument, heat flamed up the woman’s cheeks.
Scarlet didn’t seem to notice the disrespect. Instead, she squeezed her eyes closed and sighed. “You’re right. Zane is a liar. He probably lied about going alone. But there has to be another...” Scarlet’s eyes snapped open.
“Another what?” Jane asked after a moment.
Scarlet shook her head, seeming to return from somewhere far away. “Another explanation.”
“Did you think of something?” Jane asked.
It was the impression I got too, but Scarlet sighed and whispered, “I wish I had. I’m just so tired.”
After dinner, Jane headed out to the hotel room I’d arranged for her. Before she left, I’d asked her to investigate any possible way for us to get in
to the crime scene tomorrow, something the sheriff had told her would be impossible. Jane had agreed, and she would swing by to pick up Scarlet after checking out a few leads by phone in the morning.
When I headed back to the table, I found Scarlet sitting there, looking entirely dejected.
“I’ll wash up, and then we can talk,” I said, grabbing for her plate.
“I’ve got this,” Darrel said, taking my plate from me. He nodded to Scarlet and cocked a dark brow, clearly saying that I should get on with it.
“Wait—Darrel,” Scarlet objected, spinning toward where Darrel was already heading into the kitchen. “You cooked.”
“I got it,” Darrel called back. “You two have some things to talk about, don’t you?”
Scarlet’s eyes widened, and her lips parted. Her expression didn’t look annoyed or exasperated that I wanted to talk to her now, but perhaps a little nervous.
“Ready?” I asked, gesturing to my door.
“Yep.” She took a quick breath and pushed up from the table.
Down the hall, I swung open my door and waited for her to step in. Scarlet’s gaze combed over my room, pausing on the floor-to-ceiling bookcase which cost me a small fortune to stock with my essential reference books. Some of the books were borrowed from Jack, Scarlet’s father, whom I somehow seemed to be hanging out with more than Scarlet lately.
“I like what you did with the place,” she said with a smile, her hand tracing down my mahogany bedpost. Seeing her hand on that post made all kinds of inappropriate thoughts thrum through my head, but I shoved them aside.
Not right now. Not until she gives the signal.
“I wanted to talk to you about going back to school,” I said as I leaned against the wall.
“School?” Scarlet spun, looking pleasantly surprised, and my nervousness eased. Just as when I was a kid, I recently found Scarlet’s father a very easy man to spend time with. Over the past few weeks, he’d invited me to the pack-house several times to enjoy a whiskey and debate general subjects like human nature and the existence of god. I’d been dropping hints, trying to see if the man had any ideas on how I could bridge this chasm that seemed to have formed between Scarlet and me. Last week, I’d just come out and asked.
Filthy Fae: A Dirty Alphas Novel (Heartland Forest Book 2) Page 5