by Lori Drake
“That’s impossible.”
“How else would you explain the scene in Jenny’s room? Whoever did that would’ve been covered in blood. There’s no way they’d get out of the house without being seen, and there was no scent trail to follow.”
Eric scowled. It didn’t make his bruised and puffy features any prettier.
Jessica continued, “There wasn’t any sign of an intruder in Colt’s room. The window was closed, the door was locked—hell, three of us tried to bust it down, but it didn’t budge until the deed was done.”
Eric shook his head. “He’s dead, Jessica. There’s no coming back from that. We’ll hunt down the son of a bitch that did this and bury him right beside the others.”
Chris straightened, brows shooting up. Dead? Others?
Jessica scrubbed her fingers through her raven locks and emitted a frustrated growl. “We don’t need a hunt, Eric. We need a goddamn exorcist.”
Eric studied her for a moment, then stepped forward and pulled her into an embrace. She leaned into it, arms curling around his waist.
“I know you’re spooked, babe. But we’ll figure this out.” He pressed a kiss into her hair. “Did you do what I asked?”
“Yes. He didn’t bite, but I think it worked out anyway. She got the message.”
“Good girl. Now let’s see if we can get to the bottom of this mess with Kate. I doubt Colt is taking it well.” He loosened his hold on her, but kept one arm draped around her shoulders as he turned to head for the door.
She walked with him. “Actually, I want to check on Lucy and Jenny. I don’t like them being alone right now.”
“Good idea.”
Chris watched them go, mind racing to process what he’d just learned. The Butcher was dead. That would certainly explain a few things. The possession, the lack of a scent trail… he needed to talk to Joey. But in order to do that, he needed to find his body. The best way to do that was to stick with Jessica, so he followed the two alphas out of the kitchen. They parted ways in the hall, but rather than stopping at Kate’s door, Jessica kept going. She fished a key out of her pocket and unlocked a door a little ways down the hall. She slipped inside quickly enough that Chris had to pass through the door to follow.
He looked around the room. He’d searched this room already and come up empty-handed, but realized his error when Jessica walked to the closet door. The closet. He hadn’t thought to check the closets. Jessica opened the door, and sure enough, there was his body on the floor, slumped against the wall.
Mentally berating himself for his oversight, Chris overcame the indignity of it all and rushed past Jessica. He dove into his body, fully intending to read Jessica the riot act, but his throbbing head immediately distracted him. A groan escaped him and he opened his eyes. He only had a second to take in the surprise on Jessica’s face before the door slammed shut, plunging him in darkness.
Chris was really not fond of waking up in dark, enclosed spaces.
“Hey!” The exclamation echoed off the bare walls and he winced, bringing a hand to his aching head. Had that plunger handle had a steel core or something? He dragged himself to his knees and reached for the door handle, but the wood along the edge of the door was smooth. No handle. To be fair, it was a pretty small closet. “Let me out!”
“I’m sorry,” Jessica said, but she didn’t open the door. “I should’ve just made you leave.”
Chris beat on the door with a fist. “Let me out, you psycho bitch!” His head throbbed in protest as he pulled himself to his feet. He had to duck down to keep from smacking his head on the shelf overhead.
“Let me explain!”
Impatient, Chris slammed his shoulder against the door. He didn’t have much space to work with, but he didn’t let that stop him. He threw his weight into the door again and again.
“I was trying to protect you.” Jessica’s voice was quiet, but he had no trouble hearing her even through the closed door.
When the door finally gave way, it flew open with enough force that the handle punctured the plaster wall behind it and stuck there. Chris stumbled out of the closet and took a deep breath, struggling to calm himself. Jessica backed up a few feet and had her hands up.
“Protect me?” Chris said, glaring at her. “If that’s how you protect people—”
“Okay, it was shitty, but it made sense at the time.”
Chris advanced on her with a growl. She held her ground, and a second later they were toe to toe, eyes locked. There was just one problem: now that he was there, he didn’t know what he wanted to do. Hit her? Yell at her? Make her pay? His wolf howled in rage, but human sensibilities held him back. He was no Eric. Still, if he confronted her about the conversation he’d overheard, he’d have to tell her how he heard it. That was a secret he wasn’t willing to divulge. Not now, not to her. Maybe not ever.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, eyes searching his. “I thought if I hid you that you’d be safe, but now… I don’t think any of us are safe. Not here, not tonight.”
“Tell me what’s going on. Tell me everything.”
“Kate’s dead.” Tears welled in her eyes.
He knew that, of course, but he feigned shock as best he could. “What happened? Is everyone else okay?”
She finally broke contact, lowering her eyes. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she brushed them away with an impatient swipe of a hand. “Colt got pretty banged up, but everyone else is fine.”
“And the assailant?”
“You wouldn’t believe me.”
He lifted her chin so she’d look up at him again. “Try me.”
“We’re being hunted by a dead man.”
Chris smiled, if grimly. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Her eyes widened. “You believe me?”
“I believe in ghosts.”
Jessica’s eyes slid toward the door. Chris gripped her jaw, gently but firmly, and pulled her attention back.
“You saw him in the woods. The ghost,” he said.
“Y—yes.”
“Why is he after you?”
“How do you know it’s a he?”
Chris cursed inwardly. “Answer the question.”
“Be—because we killed him.”
There. It was out, and he was caught up. Sort of. “The Butcher.”
She nodded, fear in her eyes. “Yes.”
“So you’re being hunted by the ghost of a hunter that you killed. I guess there’s a certain poetic justice in that.”
“Justice was putting him in the ground. His crimes against us were too many to count. There’s no telling how many innocent lives he took.”
“I said poetic— You know what, never mind. You were right before. This isn’t our fight.” He wasn’t sure how much he meant it, but he wanted her to believe it as he turned to go.
“Wait, Chris. Please. Please help me. Help us.”
Chris paused and turned back. “Why should I? You’ve done nothing but lie and stir up trouble all night.” He reflected back on the exchange in the kitchen. Eric had sent her to seduce him, that much was clear. Chris didn’t fully understand why, especially since he was clearly closer to Jessica than either of them had let on. That hug of theirs was too intimate.
“If not me, then them. Jenny, Colt, the others—they don’t deserve this. Please help them. Help me help them.”
Chris folded his arms and studied her thoughtfully. She had good instincts, even if she’d had the bad judgment to hitch her wagon to Eric’s. He already knew that he couldn’t walk away, but he decided to let her twist a little longer before giving a curt nod.
“I’ll talk to Joey and Ben. Come on.” He motioned with his head toward the door.
He didn’t really want her to tag along, but with a revenge-seeking ghost on the prowl, leaving anyone alone didn’t seem like a good idea.
Joey wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting with Colt before Eric appeared. She’d put an arm around Colt at some point, which morphed into him curli
ng up on his side with his head in her lap. His hair was soft under her fingers as she stroked it and gazed down at him, lost in thought. She understood what he was going through more than anyone, she thought. She knew what it was like to kill someone you loved. The image of Chris’s features superimposed over Tasha’s as she shoved the knife into the witch’s gut was burned into her memory forever. It was different, sure. Chris had been already dead—sort of—at the time. Different, but not dissimilar. Joey remembered the horror of it clearly, as if it were yesterday. She’d never killed anyone before. She hoped she’d never have to again. Maybe Colt was lucky to not remember what had happened. It was one of those things she’d just as soon forget.
Joey lifted her eyes at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Eric’s head came into view shortly afterward, and she blinked at the sight of his face. He’d obviously been in a fight—the question was with who.
“Let me guess, I should see the other guy? What the hell happened?” she asked, though she didn’t expect him to be forthcoming.
He grunted and shook his head. “Nothing.”
Colt was out of it enough that it took the sound of Eric’s voice for him to pull himself up into a sitting position once more. Shoulders slumped, he had the defeated look of a man who’d lost everything and felt like it was all his fault. Joey caught his hand and squeezed it while Eric approached the bedroom door. He stopped in front of it.
“What happened?”
Joey studied him in profile. He was graver than she’d expected. The man was such a hothead that she was convinced he’d come storming upstairs looking for someone to blame. Someone to fight.
“I don’t remember,” Colt drawled, hanging his head.
“We heard sounds of a scuffle,” Joey said, at least trying to fill in the gap. “The door was locked, by the time we got inside it was over. Kate was—” She glanced at Colt. “Ben was unable to save her. I think she was strangled.”
Eric listened in silence, then opened the door and went inside without a word. He closed the door behind him.
Joey and Colt sat in silence until the door opened again. Eric’s expression was unreadable as he came to stand before Colt.
“Stand up,” he said.
Colt complied after a moment’s hesitation. It was just enough of a delay to make a muscle in Eric’s cheek twitch. Joey remained seated, not his to command, but she did keep a close eye on him.
Eric reached out and lifted Colt’s chin, studying his battered features in the hall light. “Who beat you up?”
“I don’t remember,” Colt repeated, quietly.
“What do you remember?”
“Nothing, I swear—“
Joey said, “He told you already. He doesn’t remember what happened.”
Eric didn’t spare her so much as a glance. His eyes remained steady on Colt. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“We were talking.”
“Talking where? With who?”
“In my room. With—with Kate.” He winced to speak her name.
“Just the two of you? No one else?”
“No one else,” Colt said.
“Then what?”
“Then… we were on the floor and I was— My hands were—“ He looked down at his shaking hands, then tucked them under his arms. “I was choking her.”
Eric’s eyes narrowed and he stepped closer. “So what, you didn’t stop?”
“I— Of course I did, but I— She was already—“ He broke off with a sob. “What did I do?”
Eric’s hand lashed out and caught Colt by the throat.
Joey hopped to her feet. “Whoa there!”
“Stay out of this.” Eric shot her a warning look, but Joey wormed her way in between the two men anyway.
“No. Choking him isn’t going to bring his memory back. He’s been through something traumatic, Eric.” Never mind that if her suspicions were correct, Colt’s memory loss didn’t have anything to do with trauma. She wasn’t going to mention that until she had a chance to talk to Chris. Chris, who was still missing. She shoved that thought into a dark closet in her mind and slammed the door shut, for now.
“Who else was in the room?” Eric asked, fully capable of holding on to Colt’s neck even with Joey’s petite form between them.
Joey couldn’t see Colt’s face, but the strangled sound he made was not encouraging. “Let him go or I swear to god I’ll blacken your other eye.”
Behind her, Colt drew a gasping breath and dropped back down onto the bench, released.
“This is no time for foreplay, baby.”
Joey rolled her eyes. “Don’t ‘baby’ me. We’re over, you insufferable jackass. Just back the fuck down before someone else gets hurt.”
Eric grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to face Colt. “Look at him. Do you honestly think Kate did that?”
Joey frowned. “Um, yeah.”
“Kate couldn’t do that.”
Joey snorted. “The hell she couldn’t.” She twisted out of Eric’s grasp and rounded on him. “Kate was a gentle girl, but when the chips are down, everyone fights for their life.”
“Not Kate.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because she was a fucking doormat, Joey. Her ex-husband used to beat the shit out of her and she ran away rather than fight back.”
“That doesn’t mean—“
“It’s true,” Colt interrupted quietly.
“So that leaves only one logical explanation,” Eric said, his eyes hard as he looked past Joey again. “He killed Kate, then beat himself up to throw us off his tracks.”
Joey blinked slowly. “That may be the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard you say, and that’s saying something.”
“No, no, that’s not what happened! I mean… it couldn’t have been. I’d rather die than hurt her.” Colt’s objections fell on deaf ears.
“That could be arranged.” Eric growled and tried to push Joey aside.
She planted her feet and knocked his hand aside, then jabbed a finger at his chest. “Okay, that’s enough. You need to back the fuck down.”
Eric’s hard gaze shifted to Joey. He didn’t move. “You going to make me, little girl?”
“If I have to.” Joey lifted her chin and met his eyes, unafraid. “I’m sick of your shit, Eric. You want to be the biggest, baddest wolf on the block, but you’re nothing but an overbearing bully. Now you’re crossing the line into delusional and I’m not going to stand here while you start a witch hunt.”
“He’s in on it, Joey. Ask him where he was when Jenny was attacked.”
She didn’t have to. “I was in the back room listening to the band,” Colt said, adding after a moment, like he knew it wouldn’t help his testimony, “With Kate.”
“How convenient. The one person who can vouch for you is dead.” Eric tried to go around Joey again.
“Stop it!” Joey shoved Eric away, and this time he came back at her with a snarl. She ducked the swing he threw and danced out of his reach, light on her feet. “Just listen to yourself. You sound like a lunatic.”
A flicker of movement behind Eric caught her eye a moment before two men grabbed Eric from behind. She hadn’t even heard Adam and Brandon come up the stairs, she’d been so distracted. But it seemed the raised voices had drawn some attention.
Eric growled and struggled against the arms gripping him. He managed to throw Adam off; the lanky geek crashed into the wall, leaving a dent behind. Brandon held on, his expression grim but determined. He managed to get an arm around Eric’s neck, but Eric bent over and hauled him over his shoulder. Brandon landed on his back with a pained grunt, sprawling on the floor.
Say what you would about Eric, but he knew how to handle himself. Joey wasn’t sure if even three to one odds were any good. Where was Itsuo when you needed him, anyway?
Eric straightened and rolled his shoulders, taking in the field with a sweep of his dark eyes. His face was red with anger. Joey rushed him, not wanting to gi
ve him time to recover. She drove her shoulder into his stomach, knocking him back against the upstairs bannister. The old wood cracked, and for a horrifying moment, Joey thought they both might go spilling right off. But the bannister held and Eric grabbed a fistful of her hair. He yanked her head back and looked down at her with a cruel smirk.
“If I’d known you needed an audience to get physical, I would’ve tried that weeks ago.”
Joey glared up at him and tried to knee him in the groin, but he was ready for it this time and twisted away. Smirking, he dragged her by the hair and started for the stairs. Joey gritted her teeth to stop from crying out. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. In all her time in the gym, training with Sam and Ben over the last few months, they’d never told her what to do if someone grabbed her by the hair. She growled in frustration, clawing at his arm with her short nails as she stumbled along after him.
“Let her go!” Brandon said, on his feet again. Adam joined him, the two shoulder to shoulder as they stared him down.
“Oh, I intend to,” Eric said. He bent and caught the back of Joey’s pants, lifting her off the ground. She struggled and fought, but to no avail.
It wasn’t until he stopped at the top of the stairs that Joey realized he intended to throw her down them. Short of ripping her hair out of his hand, possibly out of her head, she wasn’t sure what to do. She twisted and kicked, flailing for all she was worth. Sure, she’d probably survive a tumble down the stairs, but she wasn’t eager to. She could break an arm. A leg. Her neck. With whatever was going on tonight, the last thing she wanted to be was helpless.
Joey was only dimly aware of Adam and Brandon’s continued protests and efforts to reason with Eric, but they’d lost any chance of that when they rushed him to start with.
Eric turned, pivoting to chuck Joey down the stairs, then suddenly dropped her. Joey hit the floor hard and rolled away, looking up in time to see Eric’s final spasm before he collapsed in front of her. Lucy stood behind him, a Taser in her hand and her blue eyes wide.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” she said, a faint tremor in her voice.