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The wolf’s head jerked back in surprise. Weight lifted off my chest. His paw lengthened into padded fingers. Fur and blood fell around us in a dark snowstorm, until I couldn't see, but felt the way his hand flexed and twisted as bones shifted into human proportion.
When it was over, I propped myself onto one elbow, gasping and brushing sticky fur from my face. Expressionless, Caelan cracked his neck and looked down. I followed his gaze onto the bloody palm preventing me from sitting up fully.
“Good thing I don't have an overbearing father figure at home,” I coughed, wiping my lips.
He pulled his red hand away and got to his feet.
I dusted off and retrieved the gun, hoping he didn't notice how my hand shook slipping it into the holster.
He surveyed the blood spatter. Strips of white fur glistened in the carmine spray. “Why'd you stop me, Marcy?”
Cars honked and people talked and for a moment our brick and mortar horror stood outside time. It was hard to believe this could happen today. How could no one notice? The answer, at least, part of it, turned and repeated his question.
“Why'd you stop me?”
“It was her, Caelan. It was Rhetta.” Blood speckled my open-shoulder top, where my skin went unprotected against the pavement, but it was nothing worse than a scrape. I rolled it backward with wince. “Those were Talon’s pack members. The white wolf was Mina. I'm guessing the one who hauled Zakar off was Jaz, her husband, or mate, or whatever you call it.”
“Either is appropriate. Wolves don't have a word. Humans applied it to our species; werewolves adopted the term.” He surveyed the distant tree line. “How confident are you?”
“That it’s Rhetta? Gramps had hands. Mina has hands. Gramps tore a chunk out of her calf. Mina’s missing a chunk. I’m not too sure about the eyes and hair. Rhetta had brown hair and brown eyes, same as mine. Does being a werewolf change them?”
“No.”
“Might not be her,” I conceded. “But Mina is definitely pregnant, and that werewolf was carrying. She’s due soon.”
“So this third-trimester werewolf was what, tailing you on Cal’s behalf?”
“What were you planning to do with Zakar tonight?”
“He agreed to discuss Bayberry General.”
“That’s your second foiled interview. Is it possible someone thought you were going to reap Zakar this evening?”
“Wouldn’t need much reason to,” he muttered. “Why?”
“Here’s the thing, when I met Mina—God, it’s been so long, could I really have forgotten her face?—Cal mentioned how much she and Jaz had gone through to bring this baby into the world. Zakar is listed, among his other titles, as a fertility doctor. What if he helped them get pregnant? What if he’s necessary for the baby’s safe delivery? If word reached Mina and Jaz you were visiting tonight, they may have hustled over to stop you from killing him.”
The sheriff laid a hand on his bare hip and raised his eyebrows. “Plausible, but you’ve never seen Mina shift, have you?”
“I know her eyes,” I insisted. “Speaking of eyes, it's kind of hard to stay focused on yours strolling around as you are.”
Taking care to give me a wide berth, he walked the length of the puddled blood. “An injury like that should have killed a slight little thing like her. In fact, I’m almost certain I snapped her neck on the takedown. When you factor in where my teeth went, she shouldn’t have moved two feet, let alone up and fled. Thought she might’ve been undead, but she doesn’t have the stink about her.”
“She's living for two. You ever seen what a pregnant human can do? As a werewolf, I bet she'd be able to lift a bus.” Adrenaline, fear and a few other concerns had me running my mouth into chatty echoes as we reentered the back hall. “You think she’s okay? Is she going to lose the baby?”
“Zakar wasn't killed,” Caelan drawled, trying to steer me back on track or hoping he could. “Whether or not Mrs. Finn is involved, Mina will likely return home. If Zakar is working with Ingram, even if he ain’t, as a host to that thing, he might could bring her house down.”
The beginnings of achy hoarseness formed in my throat. As the sheriff searched out a light switch, I rubbed my neck, thinking about the damage he'd done to the white she-wolf. “How long will it take her injury to heal?”
“Few hours. Maybe less, considering her ability to survive damage she’s sustained so far. There’s something wrong there.”
“Ronan had indicated Ingram was offering a fortune for her; maybe survivability was part of the reason.” The light flipped on. I squinted at the illuminated hall until my eyes had adjusted. Bloody scraps of human smeared the floor and walls in spots. “How do babies survive a mother’s shift?”
His disinterest in answering a barrage of questions was made clear with a stern frown. “They don't, not usually. If a woman is planning on motherhood, she chooses a skin, these days almost always human. The lack of shifting we refer to as mandatory den rest. The baby can shift limbs inside the womb; it’s unpleasant, but survivable on the mother’s side.”
He pulled back the hidden door and bowed me through. The sheriff's clothing lay torn on the floor near the upturned table and a disgusting pile of skin, further evidence the wolf could explode through if he wanted.
I wrinkled my nose. “Every time I start feeling attracted to you, we take another trip to gore city.”
