“It seems we have a rather significant problem,” Cash said when we reached the group. His arms were crossed, stance wide. And he stood just slightly in front of the others, as if the elders had again ceded control to him.
“The clan members who attacked the Stone farm last night? Yes, I’d consider that a problem.” Connor’s voice was hard as granite, but smooth as glass. The sounds the gathered shifters made were much more primal, much angrier. Outrage given voice at the possibility the injuries had been inflicted by their own members.
“We have no information the animals—whatever they were—were clan,” Cash said. “None have been positively identified.”
“As you’ve been advised, the attacks on Beth, Loren, the Stone farm smelled like clan.”
“So you think, what, shifters learned to shift into something else? Into something new?”
“I think they’re using magic—and badly—to change themselves into the creatures we saw last night. They were undeniably clan.”
“If they’re proven to be clan, they’ll be dealt with.”
“Does that include the perpetrators of the newest attack? The one that occurred a few short hours ago?”
Connor’s tone was casual, and he watched Cash carefully. But if Cash knew about the shutters, he didn’t show it.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about the creature—or the half-shifted creature—who tried to pry the shutters off our cabin and expose Elisa to the sun.”
Cash’s brow furrowed. “That didn’t happen.”
“Shutters are still there, damaged though they are. You can inspect them yourself.” Connor took a step forward. “If you have any control over the creatures, I’d strongly suggest you . . . dissuade them . . . from attacking the daughter of one of the most powerful Master vampires on the continent.” He lifted a shoulder. “But that’s just my suggestion.”
It was a good strategy—taking the offensive and starting with a recitation of the clan’s crimes. We’d see how well it worked when Cash shifted us back to the inevitable topic.
“If anyone in the clan is involved,” Cash said again through gritted teeth, “they’ll be dealt with.” For the first time, he shifted his gaze to me. “Our focus right now is on other crimes, including the near death of a human. Georgia,” he said, and she stepped forward.
She looked at Connor with apology in her eyes. But she wasn’t feeling it enough, I thought with some anger, that she’d refuse to stand with Cash and Everett.
“Sheriff Paulson came around during the day,” she said. “He knew about the attack at the bonfire. Some of the other humans had called him, described an animal attack. He thought it sounded like the attack on Loren. Wanted to know our progress on that investigation, if we’d found the culprit.”
“So he acted like law enforcement,” Connor said flatly. “What did you tell him?”
“That Loren was killed by an animal,” Cash said, pulling our attention back to him. “Which is the truth.”
“It’s the least important part of the truth,” Connor said.
This time, Cash was the one who shrugged carelessly.
“You’re surprisingly lackadaisical about the fact that one of your elders has been murdered, and several of your clan members have been attacked. Makes me wonder if you’re involved.”
Cash’s gaze was cold and hard, his only movement the tapping of fingers against his biceps.
“And let’s correct the record,” Connor continued. “It was your clan who nearly killed Carlie. Elisa saved her, sparing you some very penetrating questions from the authorities.”
Cash’s gaze didn’t waver. “Carlie was bitten and changed without her consent.”
I looked at Ronan, found his expression blank, his gaze cool. I guessed he still agreed with Cash’s assessment, and hadn’t become magnanimous overnight.
“To save her life,” Connor repeated. “Because she was attacked and left for dead by one of the clan members under the influence of some very nasty magic.”
“Evidence?” Cash asked.
Connor cocked his head. “Are you telling me you can’t detect the scent of bad magic, Cash? That’s an important skill for a clan leader.”
Cash unfolded his arms, and although he didn’t step forward, the move seemed hostile. “You just have answers for everything, don’t you? But your attitude, shitty as it is, doesn’t change the basic facts—your little girlfriend made a vampire within our territory without our consent, and in Ronan’s territory without Ronan’s consent.”
I bristled at “little girlfriend,” especially since Connor and I had barely talked since the fight. I felt the monster’s agreement. It was no mere companion, and it wasn’t little.
That we agreed was an odd sensation. But not entirely bad.
“If Carlie dies,” Cash continues, “or if she survives and regrets what happened to her, that will have disastrous consequences for the clan and the Pack.”
“Less disastrous consequences than her dying in the woods because of your people?”
“All sorts of strange things happen in the woods,” Cash said. His attitude—his carelessness toward human life—echoed Ronan’s.
“You’re so afraid you’d let a human die rather than save her life and face the consequences?” Connor’s tone was matter-of-fact and carried a shadow of censure.
“Fuck you,” Cash said. “I don’t care who you are. You don’t walk into the clan and call us cowards.”
“I didn’t call you cowards,” Connor said. “I said you’re afraid, and you are. I don’t know what you’re afraid of, Cash. Humans. Change. Pick one.”
“Fuck you,” Everett said.
Connor’s smile was feral. “I’ll offer again—you want to try me on, Everett? I’d be happy to oblige.”
The crowd began to move, to shift, to talk, anticipating a fight, willing one to happen.
“Let’s go,” Connor said. “Me and you, right here. We don’t even have to tell my father. It can be our little secret.”
He pulled off his jacket, let it drop to the floor. He’d worn a tank beneath, the fabric baring slick and strong muscle, and I heard more than a few sounds of throaty appreciation in the crowd.
“Come on,” Connor said, voice low and threatening, the room silent to catch every word.