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He hung up.
Covering Mila’s ears, I swore.
“A word, Marcy?” Rubbing his shoulder where Caelan had freshly removed the silver, he reclined beside Mila and me. “I’m very sorry about tonight. You’ve gotta understand, I didn’t know she was gonna do that. I didn’t know she was capable of just…” he trailed off.
“Why?” I asked, looking at him.
The white wolf, blue eyes somber, sat on her haunches just behind her mate, hanging her head on his shoulder. He reached back to scratch her squared chin.
“He said he was taking the baby,” Jaz said. “He’s never, in the entire time we’ve known him, said or done anything remotely nasty. Always been kind to us, as he should be, for the money we paid.”
“I know his shop was in Nokhurst Crossing, but did he ever mention any other locations, maybe in upstate New York?”
“No,” Jaz said. Mina nudged his arm. He turned to regard her. “Mina says yes,” he said, shrugging. “Take her word, not mine. She was the one going for shots. Zakar would inject her every three weeks to ‘bring her dead womb to life.’”
“Why isn’t she human?” I asked.
“Baby’s turning,” Jaz said. “She needs to let him calm. Change is risky; regular weremoms don’t even attempt it. I hate when she does it, ‘specially now.”
Mina huffed.
“Got a paper and pen?” her husband asked. “She can write. Not well, but better than me with these hands.”
“Caelan does.” I said, standing. “I’ll find him.”
Rhetta’s lip curled.
“I’ll steal the grocery list,” Jaz said. “You girls stay here.”
Watching a werewolf write was amazing; that it was my sister, whatever she thought of me, was even more so. In shaky handwriting, she’d scrawled ‘Ozryn Zoo’ and something Jaz claimed read, ‘St. Lawrence.’
While the others sorted out Zakar's body, I slipped over to my house to change into fresh clothes, snuggle Samson and Igor, and research.
???
An hour after I got back, Stephen's widow, Evita, lay curled in a tight ball on the plastic-covered couch, his pelt draped over her slight frame. Pack members I didn't know mopped the floors and vacuumed the fur off the furniture. A couple of Caelan's crew were helping the situation in the dining room and hall. They'd already gotten Zakar's body photographed and removed.
I observed the process from a barstool pushed against the kitchen island—the most cleanish place downstairs—with a bottle of bourbon and an empty shot glass I’d brought from home.
Under fear of another Avon disaster, Calico had cleared all but the essential pack members from the residence. Somewhere upstairs, Mila argued with Aiden over who had to take a bath first, while Cal’s strained voice tried in vain to convince them big wolves showered off their shifts.
As the scene calmed, Caelan slid into the barstool beside mine. “You trust Ronan or Rhetta’s information?” he asked after I'd filled him in on my conversation with Ronan.
“Ozryn Zoo and Wildlife Reserve was a real place. Closed in 2005 and never reopened. Far as I can tell, there's a camp site and the usual spread of cozy Adirondack inns. Nothing magical, but—” I pressed my phone's screen to show him my discoveries. “There are articles about hikers encountering wolves and big cats nearby. Rumors of escaped zoo beasts and whatnot.”
“Sounds reasonable for Otherworld activity. I’ll see if it lines up with Tolbert’s logs and the current sheriff’s.” He filled my glass. “You prepared to waltz into an undead empire?”
“I'm being played with and I'm not sure how or why, but I need answers. I can’t live like this for long.” I downed the shot and poured one for the sheriff. When he reached for it, I put my hand on his. “I’m sorry about Stephen.”
“This pack and you are echoes of him. I couldn’t help him; I’m worried I won’t be able to help you.”
My knees bumped against Caelan's as I turned into him and propped my elbow on the counter. “How'd you walk out of bloodlust and brainwashing to be what you are?”
“He’s as reckless with lives as the rest, sugar.” Calico whisked into the kitchen in a damp silk bathrobe. She made her way to a cabinet for a wine glass. “How are you doing right by the man you got killed? By shooting his sister? Putting his packmates in danger? You’ve led us to the slaughter.”
“I'm not going to fight you, Ms. Finn,” Caelan said. “Your son is too young to lead in these trying times.”
The woman's lips drew thin. She reached across the granite to touch my arm. “He doesn’t care about any of us. He’ll put you in danger and get you injured or killed and it’s not going to matter because at the end of the day, he’s only ever cared about taking down his prey with whatever means necessary.”
