AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Gross.”
“Shifters rely on scent the same other species rely on sight or sound. If I could just place the memory.” Turning his glass in a slow circle, he stares at the beads of water along the side as if the answer might be there. “I wonder when she might’ve been at marshal headquarters.”
“Uh, never. Huntresses think shifters rank as pets at best.”
“Still, I know that scent.”
I don’t have time for him to sift through his memories of whatever women he has met, dated, banged, whatever. “What makes you think the shifter murders are related to my family—”
He interrupts again, staring at me. “Your wings—they look like your family’s grimoire.”
“You only know that since you stole it.” Rage crawls through my veins, inciting the familiar wish for revenge. “Why do you think my murder’s connected to a serial killer?”
“What happened to your wings?”
“What happened to you answering my question?” I try for bitterness in my tone but fail. What else did Tisia put in my drink?
Nolan keeps that calm cop face.
I want to provoke a response, maybe more of the heat and hunger I saw in his gaze earlier. Instead of indulging in that insanity, I glance around the other tables, taking in the clink of glasses and thudding of weapons hitting their targets in the Hack Alley. “When I want my wings, they’re there. When I don’t, they’re gone.”
“No, I’m talking about the symbols that flicker across them. They look…wrong somehow.”
Tisia sets another two ales in front of us and clears our empty glasses. When the hell did I finish mine? I don’t even remember.
I keep my gaze on her, the table, the bar, anywhere but him. “A Fury’s wings tell part of how her first life ended. Like I said, the magic in Syn City sometimes warps things from what you’d expect.” I don’t mention the messed-up sigils are proof of how I failed my family. “Anything else you need to know before we discuss the reason you’re here?”
When I look his way, he’s staring at me. His focus is intense and unnerving. I struggle to keep my mouth shut and my thoughts on the conversation.
“Whoever is committing the shifter murders—and I haven’t ruled out the possibility of multiple killers—they target victims who matter to their community.”
I hold up a finger. “Everyone matters.”
“Agreed, but the loss of some victims have a greater impact than others. Kill an outcast or a criminal? Shifters protest less. Murder the child of an alpha or brutally attack any kid, and the pack’s dealt a crippling blow.”
“You’re talking about the teenaged girl from the bear shifters and Lowell from your family’s pack.” I need to make sure I’m following his logic and not assuming anything.
“Yes. Them and every other victim. Each was a targeted strike at the shifter communities around them.”
“Okay, but how is that relevant to my family’s murder?”
“Your sister was Lowell’s mate; therefore, her home was under the pack’s protection. Your father was on the city’s human board of supervisors—the only practicing spell-worker. Your mother was a pivotal member of the interspecies council.”
“So my baby sister and I were what? Collateral damage?”
He hesitates. “Witnesses who couldn’t be left alive. Do you remember anything about your killer that would help the investigation?”
“I had my back to the front door, running upstairs for the grimoire to find a protection spell. I never saw whoever killed me. I only heard my family screaming. I thought I could save them.”
“You tried.”
“I failed,” I whisper, almost forgetting that even in a deafening bar, his shifter senses would let him hear me.
“Not your fault.”
“Maybe I’ll believe that someday.” But not today.
He goes silent for a long moment, not filling the space with unwanted reassurances. “Can you talk me through the alliances here, the staff, any locals you know from the communities around Syn City? Who might have a reason to hate shifters?”
