Breaking from Cameron’s embrace, Laina rushed toward the scream, cursing her stilettos as she shuffled to a stop at the ring of pack members assembling inside the ballroom. Once she’d excuse-me’d through the crowd, she stopped short, hand over her mouth. The dance floor where she’d performed with Cameron only moments before had become the stage for a bloody murder. A white wolf lay butchered, the white-on-white décor now marred with grisly streaks of crimson.
A grunt of disgust came from Laina’s throat. Her stomach turned. Strong hands gripped her shoulders from behind. Silas. “Don’t get any closer. There’s nothing you can do and you could contaminate the scene.” He edged past her, shouting instructions to the others to stand back.
He’d call for help. The supernatural department of the Carlton City PD would be on this in a heartbeat. But she couldn’t look away. Within the circle of horrified faces, the white wolf was positioned on its back, limbs stretched unnaturally as if drawn by invisible cords. The bones and muscles were locked in a painfully strained position. Rigor mortis. She quickly determined the victim was an animal, not a shifted werewolf, by the number of bones forming the pelvis. Still, whoever did this meant it as a personal threat. Wolves were family.
The snowy fur of the abdomen had been split open. Dissected, Laina thought, wiping away a tear. Whatever atrocity was inflicted on the poor creature, the murder must have occurred before transporting her here, enough time for rigor mortis to set in. Nothing secured the limbs now, but they were frozen in the horrid position, a morbid memento of the torture she’d endured. Still, the abdomen appeared soft, and there was only the smell of blood, not decay. She’d seen joints stiffen within ten minutes of death in certain animals, although one to three hours was more common. The color of the blood suggested a recent death. She’d have to tell Silas she estimated the murder anywhere between an hour to two hours ago.
Laina pressed her knuckles to her lips, her chest aching for the ill-fated wolf.
“What does that say?” Cameron asked from behind her as if he were using her body as a shield against the horror. He was squinting at the smudges of blood on the floor.
“I can’t make it out from this angle,” Laina said.
“Maybe we should go to my room and sit down. Let Silas do his job. It might not be safe here.” He tugged her elbow.
She squeezed his forearm. “If you think I’m running and hiding, you don’t know me.”
“And if you think I can stand to look at this a moment longer, you don’t know me,” Cameron said. “Fuck, I need a drink.”
“Go,” she whispered. “There’s nothing you can do here.”
He did as she suggested.
She rounded the scene and stood at the tail end of the tortured animal. “By blood, we rightfully ascend,” she read aloud.
“Looks like someone isn’t happy about Alex’s death,” Silas said. He’d arrived beside her, snapping pictures with his phone.
“You think a remnant of Bloodright pack is out for revenge? I thought they all submitted to you as their new alpha?”
“Me too. Except we never found Alex’s Zafka, Jonah. He’s missing. I assumed he had gone into hiding. Looks like he chose another path.”
Normally, when one alpha killed another, the dominated pack would metaphysically be bound to the victor. Submission was almost inevitable. Almost. It was possible under the right circumstances—extreme emotional stress or suppressed alpha tendencies—for a wolf to go rogue, break off and form its own pack. Any Zafka eventually took on characteristics of the wolf they protected. Clearly, Jonah didn’t just serve as Alex’s doppelgänger; he was cut from the same power-hungry cloth.
“The heart is missing,” Laina said.
“How can you tell?”
“The way the corpse is mutilated makes it difficult, but what you are seeing behind the rib cage is actually the liver. It looks like they took all the organs out and shoved them back in wherever they would fit. It doesn’t make any sense.”
Silas growled. “I don’t like this, Laina. Something like this appears in a crowded room and no one saw a thing? Whoever did this has friends in the magical community.”
“You think a witch is helping Jonah?”
“Or a fairy. Go home and lock your doors.”
“Silas—”
“That’s an order.” He took her hands in his large, rough ones. “I’m sorry to pull alpha on you again, but if Jonah did this, he isn’t going to stop at terrorizing us. I’m responsible for Alex’s death, and like it or not, we are royalty. He’ll want to hurt me. He’ll want me dead. He’ll come for you or Jason to get to me. Or he’ll come for me and you’ll end up getting hurt.”
“I could help you. The state of the body suggests the death occurred around an hour or more ago. If I could do a necropsy, I might find more clues.”
“No, Laina. It’s too dangerous. Home. Locked door. Go.”
It was an alpha command. She tried to stand her ground, eye to eye with her brother. “Silas…” She grabbed his wrists and and held on, determined not to obey. Every moment she fought it grew more uncomfortable. Her head buzzed and the inside of her skin prickled as if her veins were filled with acid. The muscles in her legs began to tremble.
“Don’t fight it, Laina. You’ll be sore tomorrow.”
In a huff, she gave in and yanked her sweating hands from his wrists, striding toward the exit.
Her Zafka met her on the veranda. Stephanie wasn’t her exact twin but she was close enough to be her stunt double. Close enough that someone who didn’t know her intimately would easily be convinced she was Laina. Most importantly, she was deadly, trained in mixed martial arts and never without the gun she kept holstered to her thigh.
“Please take the back roads, Princess. I’ll take the highway,” Stephanie said, bowing at the waist. “That will give me time to sweep your apartment before you get there.”
With a deep breath, Laina nodded reluctantly. “You don’t need to bow. And please be careful. I’ll see you at home.”
Stephanie bowed again, ignoring Laina’s request, and jogged toward her car. Laina tried to take a shortcut across the lawn to the place her car was parked, only to have her heels sink through the grass and into the mud. She kicked them off and continued barefoot to her silver Audi R8, tossing her muddy shoes and purse onto the floor of the passenger’s side. She slid behind the wheel and fired up the engine.
“Fucking Silas.” If she didn’t feel like an egg being hard-boiled every time she disobeyed an alpha command, she’d enjoy kicking his ass.
Halfway home, she paused at a stop sign. No one behind her. Nothing but road ahead. If she turned right, she’d be on course for her condo. Left was Four Paws Animal Hospital. Silas said to go home. He never said to go straight home. With a smug grin, she sped in the direction of her veterinary hospital. She’d check on Milo before heading home, maybe call and give Kyle an update and an apology.
As she pulled into her usual parking space, she noticed the light above the front door was still lit. Her assistant should have gone home hours ago, although it wasn’t completely unheard of for Becca to forget to turn the light off. Still, given the night’s events, Laina glanced over her shoulder as she slid her key into the lock. She was defiant but not stupid. If any of the Bloodright supporters wanted to challenge her, she’d be ready.
The scent of blood filled her nostrils as she slipped inside, and a chorus of barking came from the kennels. What the fuck? All the file cabinets behind the front desk were hanging open. Papers littered the floor around the toppled chair. Quickly, she rounded the desk and grabbed a pair of scissors from the drawer.
The tile floor felt cold under her bare feet as she hiked up her dress and crept deeper into the room, scissors squeezed in her fist and poised to strike over her right shoulder. She swung open the door to the kennels.
She’d designed the room to be accessible from both the front office and the surgical suite, each dog with its own climate-controlled den connected to an accessible, private outdoor run. Reinforced glass doors and mounted cameras allowed her and her staff to easily monitor patients indoors or out. The setup was ideal and unique to her practice.
But as she passed through the door, the hair on the back of her neck stood at attention. The monitors mounted behind the workstation were turned off and a cursory inspection found the server was unplugged. She plugged it back in, continuing around the corner to the kennels while the system came online. Milo was fine, as was the spaniel she’d operated on that morning. But what she found in the third kennel made her drop the scissors and race to its locked gate.
“Becca!” Her assistant was sprawled face down, blood staining her light brown curls and smudged across the back of her lab coat. The barking grew louder. Laina woofed in response, the deepest part of her inner wolf coming to the surface. All the dogs, including Milo, froze, eerily silent and intently waiting for her next command.
Unlocking the door, she rushed to Becca’s side and placed two fingers against her assistant’s neck. A strong pulse thumped against her touch. “Thank the goddess.” She rolled her human friend onto her back and assessed her further. “Becca? Becca?”
Her assistant roused, pressing a hand to the back of her head. “Laina?”
“I’m here. What happened?”
Her eyes widened. “A man asked for you. When I said you were gone for the day, he wanted your address. I wouldn’t give it to him. He got angry.” Her eyes darted wildly and she struggled to get to her feet. “How long have I been out?”
Laina stood. “What did the man look like?” She helped her friend out of the kennel and settled her into the chair near the workstation.
“Tall but skinny. Wavy dark blond hair. Rough around the edges, you know? I thought he was looking for the soup kitchen up the street when he first walked in.”
Could be Jonah, Laina thought.
Becca raised a shaking hand and pointed over her shoulder toward the observation window to the surgical suite. Laina’s gaze followed. The over-table surgical light was on. “Still here,” Becca murmured, eyes widening.
Placing a finger over her lips, Laina retrieved the scissors she’d dropped and tiptoed to the stainless steel door that led to her operating room. The surgical light only illuminated the table, leaving the corners of the room dark enough to hide an assailant. There was something on the operating table, a box of some sort, but she couldn’t make out any details.
She slipped inside the door and fumbled for the light switch, scissors raised and back pressed against the wall. The floor was sticky under her bare feet, and the stench she’d smelled from the office was overbearing now, a mixture of blood and antiseptic. Her fingertips caught on the plastic nub. When the lights clicked on, she gasped into the back of her hand.
There was no one inside, but she’d found where the white wolf had been murdered. Her operating room was coated in blood. The floor, the walls, the bindings used to torture the creature still secured to the operating table. But her eyes had not deceived her. At the center of all that blood was a box, a wrapped gift.
She approached the table, shaking. The box was covered in a page of newspaper with the headline Random Act of Terror Kills Four. It was the report of the murder that killed her parents, as well as Cameron’s. She tore it off the box, eyes burning with unshed tears, but it was useless to resist weeping when she opened the box. Inside, the white wolf’s heart lay in a pool of congealed blood. A gift card rested on top —You’re next.
The scissors cut into Laina’s palm as she tightened her grip, backing from the room. Becca’s ghostly-pale face gawked at the horror beyond the observation window, and Laina had to lift her by the shoulders to steer her toward the door.
“We have to call the police,” Becca mumbled as if her voice wasn’t working properly. The words were a muffled buzz in Laina’s head. The horror of what she’d seen echoed in her mind. Why? Why here? Why now?
“There’s a phone in my car. We’ll call on the way to the hospital.” Laina’s limbs moved robotically. Out the door. To the car. Lower Becca into the passengers’ seat. Laina had just slid behind the steering wheel when Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off” blared from the purse she’d left next to her shoes on the passenger’s side floor.
“Excuse me,” she said to Becca as she snaked her hand inside her bag and lifted her phone to her ear.
“Where the hell are you?” Silas growled.
“Silas…There’s been… something awful has happened. I’m at Four Paws.”
“Are you okay?” Silas’s voice instantly softened, becoming all concern with none of the former admonishment.
“Yes, but Becca’s hurt. I have to take her to the hospital. Can you meet me there?”
“I’m already here.”
“What? Why?”
“Stephanie was attacked at your condo. She’s alive, but barely. Do not go home. You are in great danger.”
She inhaled sharply. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“I thought you said you were at Four Paws? You’re at least ten minutes from Saint John’s.”
Before Silas could say another word, Laina hung up and inserted her keys into the ignition. She arrived at the hospital in seven minutes flat.