“If she is unable to pay the tithe at the end of six months, her bond will be made available for purchase.”
“She will remain a detainee of the Society until her debts are absolved.”
Then, out of the darkness, walked…salvation.
“There’s no hope of her paying the tithe. Let’s not pretend otherwise.” Linus folded his hands behind his back. “She has no priors, her record is spotless, and she has pursued an education tailored to providing valuable services to our community. All things considered, I propose a lucrative compromise that will please us all.”
He hadn’t done it for me, not back then. Thinking who had inspired him to stand against his mother made me heartsick for a friend, a life, that was best forgotten, and I promised myself once he moved to Savannah full-time it would be.
“No,” I said hoarsely. “I haven’t had the pleasure.”
“Probably for the best,” she decided. “You don’t want to end up on her bad side, or his for that matter.”
Salvation is a rope you use to climb out of despair. Darkness presses in on all sides, leaves your arms shaking and your chest heaving. Every inch you gain is a battle won, but still, below you yawns the void. Every inch gained can also be lost. Your arms can shake until they falter, and your chest can heave until it quits. Salvation doesn’t walk, it pokes and prods and demands you put in the work.
Cast in that light, the POA hadn’t saved me so much as he had given me the tools to save myself.
“The truth is,” Ayla started, “we’re missing three pack members. All disappeared over the last week. All female. A chef, a realtor, and an artist. All were last seen in the company of a man.” She angled her head toward me. “We knew you visited Mendelsohn because we have friends there who mentioned your visit.”
More like spies, paid to keep tabs on the pack and report interesting tidbits to Ayla.
Prepared to be impressed if she said yes, I asked, “You infiltrated the Loups too?”
“Infiltration wasn’t required.” Her smile turned coy. “I pay a flat rate for information pertinent to me.”
Yet another reason why I doubted Garou or his Loups were involved. He received money to perform heinous acts, but he would sell out the previous buyer if a new one with deeper pockets came along. He was a businessman, and he would always take the better deal, loyalties be damned.
“We crosschecked the dates our missing persons were reported against Mendelsohn’s schedule. They’re a match. They coincide with visits he made to the city.”
Aware she was dragging it out, turning it into a power play, I asked, “What was he doing in the city?”
“Parties.” Her lips pursed. “He disappeared for hours at a time at each.”
That jibed with Mendelsohn asking me if he met Shonda at a party, not that I wanted to give him even that much credit. He was the alpha, born and raised in that pack, and couldn’t tell one woman from another, let alone put a name to a face.
“Let me guess.” I saw where this was going. “He vanished into a back room with his harem?”
“His harem wasn’t in attendance, but yes. He took several non-warg women into a back room.”
The man’s sex drive was not normal, but that wasn’t a crime. He could be on pills, charms, or any number of things to keep him hard as the rocks tumbling around in his head.
“Does your friend have names? Can we track the women down, question them?”
“She wasn’t invited. She got this secondhand from partygoers as they left.”
Hearsay wasn’t good enough. I had a second source, the kid, Jessica, but all she could vouch for was the fact Mendelsohn partied in the city often. That wasn’t a crime, as long as he put on pants first.
Mind racing over the possibilities, I regretted not coming here first. “I wish you had reached out to me.”
“Do you really care?” She studied me. “You’ve been here barely a year, and gossip abounds about you and that shadow of yours.”
Ford tensed on my periphery, not much, but enough. She had been fishing, and she caught his reaction too.
“I’m here.” I leaned forward, ignoring Ambrose’s sudden interest in the alpha, who had mentioned his favorite topic, himself, and mirrored her posture. “What does that tell you?”
“Many things,” she murmured. “Have a care that those with fewer resources than I have at my disposal don’t start to imply your man here is simply the hand up a puppet’s back.”
Gritting my teeth, I kept my tone polite. “No man currently has his hand up my back or elsewhere.”
“You’re bold.” An appreciative glimmer brightened her eyes. “I like it.”
“No woman currently has her hand up my back or elsewhere either.”
She bit her lush bottom lip to hold in her grin. “You’re using your own hand these days?”
A flush attempted to climb into my cheeks, but I crushed it. “Let’s say I’m self-sufficient.”
To cover glancing away first, I faked checking on Bonnie. I didn’t spot her right off, so she must have extended her patrol to the hall in front of Ayla’s office.
Chuckling under her breath, she pulled herself together. “Will you keep me informed of your progress?”
“I’ll do that if you do the same.” I mulled over the consequences but then decided involving Ayla directly might save us time. “Reach out to the cleaners. Eight bodies were found in Perkerson Park this morning. The preliminary reports aren’t available yet, but they should be within the next twenty-four hours. Some might belong to your people.”
The humor fled her expression, and grief tightened the skin around her eyes. “We haven’t been contacted…”
“The condition of the bodies means it might take a while for the cleaners to match all the pieces. They’ll be running DNA to determine species and identities, but the process would go faster and smoother with your help.”
“Of course.” She closed her eyes. “I’ll make the arrangements.”
“Our killer is a warg, according to saliva samples found in the wounds. Once we have names to go with the other victims, I’ll need to be in contact with their families. Or, if you feel that’s too invasive, I would appreciate updates from you.”
“Grief is a private thing. I can keep you informed, but I must request you not approach my people. If you uncover any evidence that leads you to believe a member of my pack is involved in these murders, bring them to me. I will exact my own justice.”
Given that was the typical party line with supernaturals, I didn’t have a leg to stand on. “All right.”
“I would like to be alone now,” she said, lowering her head. “You can see yourselves out.”
The familiar refrain of I’m sorry for your loss almost tripped over my tongue, but it felt premature.
Hope was a fragile thing, and one wrong word from me would shatter it for her forever.
Ford and I left, Bonnie on our heels, and we didn’t speak again until we were all situated in his truck.
“You didn’t tell me Ayla has a crush on you.”
“Really?” I twisted toward Ford. “That was your takeaway?”