Brows drawing together, Caleb looked around…and tensed.
Scars like white tattoos running up his forearms, Thorson stood on Caleb’s other side. The old werecat had a deadly look in his eyes.
Alec took the stool next to Gretchen. Owen, his fellow cahir, stood beside him.
“Caleb? I’d like an answer, please.” Donal kept his tone polite, his claws sheathed. Mustn’t kill the prey too quickly. “Where were you injured?”
“My arm. A cat clawed my arm.”
“Ah. Show me where. Exactly.”
Scowling, Caleb curved his fingers and motioned down the outside of his left arm.
“There are no arteries there.” Donal put a snap in his voice. “Were you really in danger of bleeding to death?”
A long growl preceded the answer. “No.”
“So, Gretchen lied to me, and you backed up her lie.”
Another growl, that of a trapped dog. “Aye.”
When Tynan growled back, Donal shot his brother a shut-it glare, before turning his attention to Gretchen. “You told me the banfasa was terrible at her job. Is that a lie, too?”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t—” Gretchen faltered when Donal and the others lifted their noses and sniffed. The air held the foul stench of a lie. “Fine, yes, I, maybe, stretched the truth a little bit.”
“You lied,” Donal said flatly. “Aside from her move to Cold Creek, was there any time someone needed the banfasa where she wasn’t available?”
“I have no idea. I don’t keep track of her movements.”
“That you know of—was there any time?”
“No,” Gretchen muttered.
“Why did they lie about our banfasa?” Alec’s soft voice was louder than normal.
Clever Alec. It would be good to let people know how Rainier Territory tried to manipulate the people in Cold Creek. “You tried to destroy her reputation as a banfasa with us—so she wouldn’t be able to work here. Is that right?”
Gasps sounded around the room.
Neither Gretchen nor Caleb spoke.
Their fucking lies could have destroyed Margery. The anger grew inside him until he was ready to shift and start ripping guts out. He hissed a warning.
Caleb flinched back, then gave a jerky nod.
“You wanted to make sure she’d have no choice except to return to Ailill Ridge and be your banfasa there?” Donal looked at Gretchen.
The silence lengthened.
“Answer me.”
“Yes, okay. Yes.” Gretchen scowled at him. “That was why.”
A lust-filled howl sounded from near the door. The moon was rising.
“You fecking, lying weasels.” Tynan’s voice went guttural with his rage, and his hands were in fists. He took a step forward.
Donal did, too. “Let’s rip them to pieces.”
“Sorry, lads.” Alec gripped Donal’s arm, then Tynan’s. “You two would destroy them—and the Cosantir gets irritated about blood on his pretty hardwood floors.”
Tynan’s response was a threatening growl.
“Now, Deputy.” Alec half-smiled. “Don’t do this, because…I’ll help. And if I jump in, Calum will lecture me…again…on decorum and other annoying subjects.”
Tynan’s hands slowly unfisted. “Fecking liars.”
“Dammit, Alec,” Donal muttered, exchanging a frustrated glance with Tynan.
“Yeah, I’m sorry.” Alec rested his hand on his weapons belt. “However, I daresay Calum will express his displeasure.”
As if to confirm his littermate’s opinion, Calum leaned on the bar. “Gretchen. Caleb. If I could have your attention, please.”
The two stiffened and turned slowly.
They should be worried. The Cosantir’s expression was colder than the glacier on Mt. Baker. “Dishonesty is repugnant, in and of itself. But your lie wasn’t to escape trouble. You deliberately lied about another Daonain to force her to do what you wanted. To destroy her life if she didn’t.”
Both shifters stared at the Cosantir, too terrified to even move.
“You aren’t in my clan and not mine to punish, but I can and will keep you out of my territory. In the morning, leave—and do not return.”
Donal heard Gretchen heave a relieved breath…until Calum looked over her head at Alec. “Sheriff, I have no interest in monitoring these two during a Gathering. Remove them to your station and lock them in separate cells until moonset.”
The sheriff covered his mouth, trying to smother a laugh.
And Donal had to do the same. Talk about torture… When the moon rose, Gretchen would grow desperate for males and matings. Being penned up in a cell would be acutely painful.
Jailed next to her, every breath bringing him the scent of a female in heat, Caleb wouldn’t be much better off.
Tynan grinned as Alec snagged the two and escorted them out of the Wild Hunt. “Good punishment, but how’d Calum know?”
Donal bumped his shoulder against his littermate’s. “The Cosantir has exceptional hearing. It’s why I ambushed them at the bar.”
“You’re a credit to your feline genes.” Tynan narrowed his eyes. “Their lies… That’s why you were so rude to Meggie? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Since she said—at first—she didn’t want to be a banfasa, her incompetence wasn’t important.” Donal shook his head. “Only she’s not incompetent. Quite the reverse.”
“Couldn’t you tell she was extremely skilled from seeing her with our wounded in Seattle?”
“In Seattle? You mean at the compound?” Donal frowned, trying to remember through the fog of that night. “Was she…? Of course, she must have been there.”
“Oh, gnome-nuts,” Tynan said. “You don’t remember, do you?”
“I vaguely recall removing the females’ trackers…I think.”
Tynan snorted. “You took the trackers out while Meggie dressed the incisions. Then you dropped like a rock, and even though all the other females left, she insisted on staying behind to care for the injured.”
A captive in the middle of a battle. She must have been terrified. Yes, she stayed. Because it was who she was. Yes, she belonged here in the North Cascades Territory where they would treat her right. “I know the truth now. Even better, she forgave me for being a boggart-brain.”
Tynan barked a laugh. “You’re lucky she’s not a werecat, or you’d have lost some blood.”
“Ah, but she’s a wolf. A sweet little wolf…who likes us both.” As Donal felt the slow rise of desire in his blood, he smiled at his littermate. “It’s Gathering night.”
A corner of Tynan’s mouth tilted upward. “Shall we see if she’s interested in two unworthy males this night?”
It had been too long since he’d shared a female with his brother. “Aye, we—”
“Healer!” Rebecca hurried up to him. “Three yowling idiots were showing off for a female and jumped off their balcony at the B&B. Can you come?”
Cat-scat. With a resigned sigh, Donal asked, “How bad is it?” Would he need additional power?
“One broke his ankle. Couple sprains. I think the third dislocated his shoulder.”