His body seemed to tense and sharpen. As though a line had been cast in front of him, he became obsessed with following it. She could see how keen he was to break into a run, but he kept his pace even, never getting too far ahead of her. Aurora’s heart warmed even more. They were in this together.
The nicer parts of Othercross fell away around them. In a few short turns, they broke into the part of town where she would have feared to go alone. But with this powerful wolf at her side, she walked with sure feet.
The houses looked derelict, and the pavement Dane padded over was interlaced with cracks and weeds. Even so, he kept his head low, following the trail. At last, they came to a stop in front of a seedy, dangerous-looking bar. This was a far cry from Talbot’s. It looked like the kind of place a good girl like Aurora might walk into and never come out of.
Even in the earliest part of the evening, a low, almost fearsome tangle of voices filtered out into the street. Aurora was nervous they might actually have to go inside.
“Is this it? Is he here?”
The wolf looked up at her and then to the doorway. After a beat, he lifted his head again and closed his eyes. With a decisive snuff, he trotted past the door and picked up Finch’s trail on the other side. The farther they got from the dark doorway, the easier she was able to breathe.
The path tangled, and she got the distinct impression their quarry had been trying to shake someone. Could it be them? Was it possible the felon had gotten wind of them and set out again? The thought only sharpened her determination to find him.
Little by little, they wound their way back into the safer parts of town. At last, Aurora found herself crossing the quad of Othercross University. She’d studiously avoided campus since her graduation, as it held no truly fond memories for her. Yet, in this wolf’s company, she kept her head high, making no effort to vanish among the ivy-covered walls.
Tucking around the far side of the Great Hall, they paced into the Othercross Gardens. All at once, Dane stopped short. The fur across his shoulders bristled, and a throaty growl rolled out of his snout. Venturing a step or two ahead, Aurora saw the cause.
Griffin Finch was there in the garden, nestled under the drooping arms of a massive willow. His throat was opened in a long, clean slit, and crimson blood spilled down his chest. It was fresh enough to still be bright and wet.
“Oh, no, Dane. How…?”
She turned back to him, but he was gone. Breaking into a run, she came around the corner of the central building before she caught sight of him. Still locked on a scent, he was cutting across the far edge of the green, moving as fast as the scent would let him.
“Dane,” she called after him. “Wait!” But he didn’t even break his stride.
Fine.
Aurora began to run in earnest, or as well as she could while holding his pile of clothes. Catching up with him wasn’t even a faint hope. She just had to keep her eyes on him. To lose him now wasn’t an option. After all, they were a team. She became more certain of that with each footfall.
Once or twice, she was only able to catch a glimpse of his hind-quarters as he sailed around a corner, but she always managed to trace him. In truth, some moments she felt like she would have been able to follow the golden link that bound them together even with her eyes closed. She might not have been ready to acknowledge the truth of the mating bond between them, but she felt it as surely as her own skin.
Rounding one last corner, she was startled to find that Dane had come to a halt. Of all places, he was directly in front of the doors of the Othercross Judiciary, sniffing intently up the steps from the street. When he spotted her, he hunkered down and shifted back into the Dane she had shared her body with.
Unfolding to his full height, she stole another look at the full glory of him. Then, remembering just how public they were, she handed over his clothes and he dressed himself.
“The trail ends here?” She was still breathless from the dash across town.
“Yeah.”
“You’re sure?” None of it made any sense to her. “Maybe we followed the trail backward?”
“This isn’t Finch’s trail,” he said, pacing to the curb, his eyes flashing golden with excitement. “This is somebody else. The scent dies right out here.” He turned to face her, and she could see his mind whirring away behind those rich, brown irises. “I think whoever killed Finch must have gotten into a waiting car.”
“So we lost him? With Griffin Finch dead, have we lost the trail completely?”
“No,” Dane said, reaching out to run a finger under the line of her jaw. “Far from it, actually. Whoever this is, I’ve got his scent now. I’ll know him the next time he crosses my path.”
Again, that pure certainty grounded her, soothing her anxiety. It made her long for the finger at her neck to stray lower. It wasn’t a way she was used to feeling, but she was ready for it to become familiar.
Eighteen
If her hot and heavy tryst with Dane earlier in the day had left her flying high, stepping back into the office brought Aurora squarely back down to earth. In fact, it seemed to open a hole in the ground and shove her into it.
Leaving Dane on the steps of the Judiciary had been awkward. Even after the profound shared intimacy, she was battling with herself over what it meant. The fact that they were right in front of where they were supposed to be their most professional selves hadn’t helped a bit. However much they may have wanted to kiss goodbye, there was no way.
So, there she sat, at odds with herself, filing away evidence from a case that never happened. All the preparation had been for naught. As her busy hands worked, she wondered how often that might happen over the course of her career.
If she still had one, that was.
It seemed more and more unlikely to her, no matter what Dane said. He had a vested interest in making her feel good, and he had proven himself very adept at that. Debilitatingly so. Even as she stood there, parts of her body still tingled with the afterglow of their lovemaking.
And it was lovemaking. There was no question as to the emotions involved, which only made things more unsettling. Nothing in her life was within her control, and after working so hard to keep herself in check, it was easy to look at things like they were spinning into chaos.
At least the pit was quiet. Given the way the other juniors were all slinking around, she half-wondered whether Paul or some other official had shouted the room down. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence when any of the brass was feeling punchy. And getting a mistrial on a sure thing would have been more than enough to cause some general punchiness.
Still, the fact that nobody had said boo to her since her return had done precious little to ease the tension in the room. The air was so thick, it had practically billowed out into the hallway when she’d opened the door.
In the midst of it all, Aurora held one certainty. Paul was going to fire her the second he laid eyes on her. She was so sure of it, she was tempted to throw her own money into the pool her compatriots had going. Her money was on less than a minute after his arrival but no tears on her part. With a hint of morose amusement, she wondered what the odds were.
“Rhonelle.”
Paul Keenan stood in the doorway staring at her with a flat expression. The rest of the juniors looked as surprised as she felt. He hadn’t banged the door open with his usual vigor. Instead, he just gestured her over with two fingers.