“You think the Beast is a shifter?” Alexei asked.
“Of course,” Loren asked. “Humans don’t know that we live here, so when they see a shifter in wolf form—larger than the average wolf—they draw their own conclusions. It’s the nature of humans to exaggerate.”
Loren struck me as the type happy to exaggerate if it enhanced his own position.
“There are, of course, always believers, regardless of the silliness of the idea. You must be tired,” Loren said. “I’ll handle this, let you get some rest.”
“Appreciate it,” Connor said, but his smile wasn’t reflected in his gaze, which kept its suspicious edge.
“A tidy dismissal,” I whispered when Loren walked over to the girls and we turned back toward the cabin. “Did we find the monster Marian mentioned?”
“We found something,” Connor said. “But I don’t smell anything other than Pack, and apparently neither did they. They also didn’t detect any unusual magic, and Beth’s injuries are consistent with a wolf attack.”
“From a shifter,” Alexei said, “but not one they recognized?”
“That’s an issue,” Connor admitted. “We don’t know Beth, don’t know how skilled she is in fighting. Maybe someone just got the best of her, was too fast for her to make a positive ID. Maybe someone didn’t like Beth, saw their opportunity.”
“And ran off without doing her much harm?” I wondered. “Or telling her how she’d pissed them off?”
“Also good questions,” Connor said. “She didn’t go to this woodpile regularly, so the attack couldn’t have been planned to match her schedule. And, again, they ran off when they were confronted. That’s not very dedicated if they were trying to make a hit.”
“Put like that,” Alexei said, “it seems random.”
“We could look around,” I said. “There could be fur, footprints. Maybe even a trace of magic or scent in case there was something they missed.”
Connor smiled. “You just earned your room and board.”
“I haven’t had any room or board,” I pointed out. “But I’m glad to hear they’re on the agenda.”
“I’ll take a look,” Alexei said.
“I’d appreciate it,” Connor said.
“Did you see Beth and Jae didn’t seem thrilled to see Loren?”
“I did,” Alexei said. “They looked wary. Suspicious.” His gaze fell onto a pile of lumber and debris that might once have been a cabin. “I think there’s some rot in the resort.”
“Yeah,” Connor said. “I think you’re right.”
“Are the black armbands because they’re mourning Paisley?” I asked.
“That would be my guess,” he said.
“Armbands?” Alexei asked, frowning back toward the woodpile. “I didn’t catch that.”
“Only the young ones wore them.” Connor sighed. “We’ll have to dig into this more, but tomorrow, since the sun will be rising soon.” He looked at me. “How long do we have?”
I looked toward the eastern horizon. Dawn was creeping closer, her rosy fingers grasping at the edges of the horizon. “About thirty minutes,” I said.
“Do you feel it in your bones?” Alexei asked.
I looked back at him, smiled. “No, but I can see it with my eyeballs.”
“Hilarious.” He looked at least faintly amused.
“Let us know what you find,” Connor told Alexei. “And be careful.”
“Always,” Alexei said, then pulled a peppermint from his pocket, unwrapped it, popped it into his mouth. And disappeared into the woods.
* * *
* * *
Back at the cabin, I organized my gear in the bedroom. When I came back into the living room, I found Connor had arranged a blanket and pillow on the couch, but I was alone in the cabin. He came in through the front door a moment later.
“I was just closing the shutters,” he said, and locked the door behind him.
“You sure you’ll be okay on the couch?”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve also slept in a tent in the mountains. Rockies, not Pyrenees, but I imagine sleeping on rock in a freezing wind is pretty much the same all over the world.”
“Our tragedies bring us together,” I said.
He snorted, took off his watch, placed it on the kitchen counter, along with the contents of his pockets, then toed off his boots.
“You were good with Beth.”
He looked up, brows lifted.
“You handled her well, I mean. You were thoughtful and polite, and you worked to put her at ease. But you did it with authority.”
“Not bad for a former punk.”
I bit back a smile. “You still have some punk in you.”
“Will I get in trouble if I call you a brat again?”
“Yes. There were two of them—the things that attacked her. She didn’t realize it, but there would’ve had to be at least two. One to hit her, one still moving. Because the one that hit her was behind her.”
“That’s my thinking, yeah.”
Silence fell.
“Does it bother you?” I asked, breaking it.
“Does what bother me?”
“The fact that conversation stops when shifters see you.”
He went still, watched me for a quiet moment. “Yes. It’s part of who I am. Part of who I want to be. But it makes me . . .”
“Separate,” I said, and he nodded.
“I think we’ve switched positions,” I said. “You’ve always been the prince, but when you were a kid, it didn’t really matter. Gabriel was in control, and that was that. But you’re older now. You’ve, I guess, come into your power. People are curious about you. Maybe wary of you. And wondering if you’re the next Apex. The next leader of the Pack.”
“Yeah,” he said. “They see me for what I might be. Some for who I actually am—they’re the good ones. But most for what I might be able to do in the future. The possibility I can make things better or worse for them.”
I nodded, shifted my gaze to the window and the dark trees outlined beyond it. “For me, it’s the opposite. When I was a kid, I was a novelty. The new thing. The first thing. There was a little of that when I came back from Paris, but now the novelty’s somewhat worn off because I’m a vampire with a real job. That’s not nearly as interesting, at least for humans. But I’m still . . . separate. I know how that feels.”