Sambah folded his arms. “And you want to know what we did to them.”
“He suggested you ate them.”
Sambah threw back his head and laughed. “They were challenged to battle, but we didn’t eat them. We’re not savages.” His gaze drifted back to the truck. “I had a taxidermist stuff their animal remains and return them to their pack.”
“That’s… a little bit extreme. Isn’t that illegal?”
Sambah lowered his arms, clasping his hands. “Perhaps that is why they never speak of what happened to their former packmates. They’re embarrassed that they’re sitting by the fireplace.” He smiled grimly. “And that is why you brought my son’s killer to me? How do you know that this man killed my child? He doesn’t look like much of a warrior.”
“He confessed. I wouldn’t be here unless I was absolutely certain.”
“Why me? You said there are other victims. Why not their fathers and mothers?”
I sighed. “He worked for some of them. If this got out, it would cause a rift between Shifters and Relics.”
“Yes, but how is it that you chose me?”
I worried my lip and decided to tell him. “Because your son helped us solve the case.”
He blinked. “King?”
“One of our people is a Gravewalker. I guess this was King’s unfinished business.”
Sambah swung his gaze up to the moon and remained quiet for a long while. I could hear Graham rustling around inside the truck, but I’d taken the keys. Finally, Sambah cast his gaze upon me, and I thought for a minute he might go back inside. “Did my son say anything else?”
“I don’t know. He helped us with the case. I think he really wanted to do right by you. He offered to help us in exchange of delivering a message to you, but we just caught Graham, and no one has talked to King. Once I get home, I’ll have our Gravewalker write down the message.”
“I would rather him go to his next life. I don’t wish him to linger between worlds.”
“I doubt he’ll stick around much longer. If he already left, I’ll see if he had a message and make sure it gets to you.”
“I would very much appreciate that. He must go to his ancestors. I visit his grave each night and speak to him, but I do not want him to be there. This is just my way of coping, you see.”
“No offense, but you don’t seem upset to find out your son was murdered.”
“I have lived many lifetimes and experienced great loss. When an accident takes your child, you blame the gods. When a person takes your child, you spend your life trying to figure out why. No answer is good enough, and sometimes it will only make it worse. Even if they are punished, you always live with that hate. Then you spend your life hating yourself, wondering how you could have prevented it from happening. I no longer let those emotions consume me. They are bad for the spirit.”
After a quick nod to his men, they tried to get Graham out of the truck, but he’d locked the doors. When one of the men raised his fist to break my window, I shouted at him and jogged toward the vehicle.
Jingling my keys between two fingers, I went to unlock the door.
Graham was plastered against the driver’s door. “Don’t feed me to the lions.”
“They’re not going to eat you. Look, I’m doing you a favor. You don’t want to go to Breed jail and face the higher authority’s judgment, and I can’t let you go free. I don’t accept bribes from murderers like you. I’ve got zero sympathy. But hey, if you want to spend the rest of your life in jail, eating slop, I’m more than happy to oblige. Have you ever seen the inside of one of those prisons? Depending on which one you go to, they’re pretty bleak. You don’t have any rights in there. All you have are walls and bars and a lot of free time. Something else to consider: they might give you the death penalty. I hear they behead you right in front of an audience. Is that what you want?”
Without another word, Graham opened the door and stepped out. He allowed the men to escort him inside, and all things considered, that was probably the bravest thing I’d seen him do. A beheading might have been quicker, but he wouldn’t want to chance getting the life sentence. Or maybe he thought he could talk Sambah into letting him choose his method of death—perhaps by poison. Same as his victims.
Either way, Graham was ready to meet his maker.
“Don’t tell anyone about this,” I said, rejoining Sambah. “We could get in a lot of trouble.”
“I will say a prayer for Blue, regardless if she is in this world or the next. Thank you for the gift.”
“I don’t think he sees himself as a gift.”
Sambah tilted his head. “I meant the gift of knowledge. King was stolen before his time, but at least now I know how. Soon I will find out why. Sometimes that’s all a parent wants, even if it never lessens the pain.”
“I have to go.” When I reached the truck, I opened the door and called out, “Sambah?”
“Yes?”
“Just promise me you won’t eat him.”
All I heard was laughter as he went inside the mansion.
On my drive home, I wondered if Sambah would execute Graham right away. Would he torture him? Or maybe he was the type of man who would offer Graham a last meal and give him a comfy bed to sleep in, drawing out the suspense. Graham might get one last night to think about the innocent lives he impacted with his ruthless behavior. Something told me that despite everything, he would never truly have empathy for the victims. Usually in the end, criminals only regretted what had led to their capture.
It was late, I was tired, and as I reached the mansion, a thin fog hovered over the ground like a soft blanket. The truck rolled alongside the stone walls that bordered our property until I reached the black iron gate. The Roman soldier on the arched keystone gave me a stern look as he always did. I swiped my card, entered the property, and drove to the underground garage. The glossy white floors lit up when the automatic lights came on. There was parking to the left and right with a workbench straight ahead. I did a slow turn to the right and then turned right again to park facing the wall.
Christian was standing in my usual spot, hands in his pockets, one foot propped against the wall behind him.
I got out. “What are you doing in here?”
“I had to escape the wee ones.”
“Aren’t they asleep?”
He branched away from the wall and then kissed my forehead. “They’re giggling, and it echoes in the lower level.”
“So go to your room.”
He raised his brows lazily and looked more exhausted than usual. “Wyatt’s having a private party for one in his bedroom with the pitiful music playing. Unless his ghost friend is keeping him company, but I haven’t heard him bickering.”
“Ah.” Wyatt playing sad music wasn’t a good sign. I walked to the back of the truck, tossed my green jacket over the edge, and let down the tailgate. “So… what happened?”
“Not much. We just had a few drinks.”
“No, I mean about Blue.” I sat on the tailgate, remembering how I left her on the sidewalk without a proper goodbye. “I guess I’m too late. I wanted to tell her about Graham—that I caught him.”