Dan left the house before I woke. I operated my forensic accounting practice from late afternoon to midnight to cater to my vampire clientele. Dan technically worked similar hours, but the FBI definition of office hours tended to be kind of bendy.
Right now it was bendy and stretched. Dan was working days and nights. I was working on the case and trying to keep my business running, so my hours had expanded, too. But clearly he'd thought I still needed to rest. I'd recovered from being shot while escaping Smith, but physical wounds were the least of my problems.
The emotional roller coaster of grief and anger and frustration was exhausting. I was actually looking forward to the full moon later in the month, because with the moon came an energy boost I desperately needed.
I was pouring myself a second cup of coffee and wondering whether my desire for steak for breakfast was due to me being extra tired or just being a werewolf when the doorbell rang.
Ratty sweats were not my favorite things to be wearing when unexpected visitors arrive, but there was nothing to be done about that. I checked the security screen by the door and was startled to see my aunt standing on the doorstep, a small wheeled suitcase by her feet.
I fumbled with the lock, opening the door as fast as I could. "Aunt Bug? What are you doing here?"
"Did you really think I wouldn't be coming to see you after you were in the hospital again?" She cocked her head, smiling. The expression was a little too wide. Too stretched. Her gray hair was back in its usual neat bun, and her outfit was far more pulled together, but something felt…off.
Dan had told her she didn't need to come when I was in the hospital after the doctors had said I'd only be in overnight, and I'd spoken to her on the phone most days since I'd been released, but the last week or so had been hectic. Maybe she'd been hinting she wanted to come see me and I'd missed it?
Guilt twinged. "I'm really fine," I said, stepping back to let her in.
"Well, if that's true, then I'm worried about you," she said with another odd smile that tugged at my instincts. She moved at her usual brisk pace, wheeling her bag into the house, and I followed, trying to work out what about her had me so worried.
Maybe I was just overreacting.
Bug was always the one who coped. The one who'd picked me up when my world had shattered. Who'd helped me build a foundation again after my parents died and then did it again when I'd become a werewolf. I wasn't sure what to do with a world where she wasn't standing firm and certain to anchor us all.
But I couldn't let her see that. If something was bothering her, I needed to be there for her like she always was for me.
Bug paused when she reached the kitchen, her eyes scanning the room. No doubt noting the plate and silverware I'd pulled out, intending to make myself breakfast, still lying unused on the counter.
"Have you had breakfast?" I asked as she lowered herself into one of the chairs at the kitchen table.
"Hours ago," Aunt Bug replied. "Have you?"
"I've had coffee. I just woke up. My hours are weirder than usual at the moment."
Bug put her bags down and walked across to the fridge. "I'll make you something."
"You're the guest," I protested.
"You got shot," she said pointedly. "Let me fuss a little." She studied the contents of the fridge. "Bacon and an omelet?"
I knew better than to argue with Bug in mother hen mode. And when it came to her cooking for me, I didn't want to. "That sounds perfect."
I poured myself more coffee, refilled the French press to make a fresh batch, and found some cookies. Even if she'd had breakfast, she might be hungry, too. Bug worked her magic with my frying pan, and before I knew it, we were sitting at the table. I tried not to eat too fast, starving now that food was actually in front of me. Bug poured sugar and cream into her coffee and stirred it slowly, gazing out the windows into my backyard.
My instincts prickled harder, accompanied by a growing knot in my stomach. "You should have let me know you were coming. I would have cleared my calendar."
Her eyes met mine and then moved away again. Bug wasn't the prevaricating kind. She was a firm believer in the "rip the Band-Aid off fast" school of dealing with trouble. "I know you're still busy, but I wanted to make sure you're taking care of yourself."
I took her hand. "I'm never too busy for you. And I'd have told you if I wasn't okay." That was something of a lie. I wasn't telling anybody about what happened with Rhianna, and Bug didn't know about the plague vamps. She, like everyone in Caldwell, had been told that Rhianna died of her injuries following a vampire attack. "So why don't you tell me what's going on?"
She sighed, the clink of the teaspoon in the coffee mug getting louder as she stirred harder. "I wasn't going to tell you straight away. But Ani said she thought you might need some company, and I'm not going to lie to you."
Crap. My instincts were right. Something was wrong.
And wait, what? Aunt Bug was talking to Ani? Ani and Sam were the Alphas of the Seattle pack. Aunt Bug had met Ani at the hospital after Dan bit me and turned me into a werewolf, but I wasn't aware that they'd stayed in touch.
But I'd deal with that part after I found out what Bug was hiding from me.
I made myself smile, trying for reassuring. If she needed me to be fine so she could be not-fine, I would be. "Tell me what you need to tell me."
Her mouth flattened. "Rhianna's funeral was yesterday."
It took a moment to sink in. Then it hit me like a baseball bat to the stomach. They'd buried Rhianna, and no one had told me. No one had invited me. To go to the funeral of my de facto little sister.
Tears stung my eyes, and I fought them back. I wasn't going to lose it in front of Bug. "They didn't want me there." My voice cracked despite my efforts to not react.
Bug's face twisted. "No. I'm sorry. The mood in Caldwell is…difficult right now. What happened at the memorial service, well, the attack has brought back a lot of old hurt. They asked me not to tell you or Dan. I don't agree with it, but they're grieving parents, and I wasn't going to argue with them."
I hadn't thought about checking the papers or social media for funeral notices. I'd assumed Bug would let me know. The Taskforce might have been monitoring things to make sure the story of how Rhi died stuck to the lie they planted, but apparently if they'd seen anything about the funeral, it hadn't occurred to anyone to tell me. Or maybe I'd been one of the things they'd been trying to control, too. After all, I was one of the few people who would have known the coffin was empty. Rhianna had burned to ash, so there wasn't a body. Hell. How had they managed the funeral? Clearly it had seemed normal to Bug, or she'd be asking me questions.
"Define difficult," I said. If there was trouble brewing in Caldwell, I needed to know. And focusing on that let me push away the harder task of dealing with the fact that the people I'd once considered a second set of parents hadn't wanted me at their daughter's funeral. Didn't want me in their town, it sounded like.
Caldwell, where all the trouble in my life had started just over thirteen years ago when a vampire killed my family and nearly twenty other people in the town. Where only a few weeks ago, the memorial of that event had been ambushed by more vampires. Plague vamps. Leading to Rhianna's death.
People are meant to feel nostalgic about the places where they grow up, but if it wasn't for the facts that Aunt Bug still lived there and my family was buried in the cemetery, I could have lived happily without going back to Caldwell for the rest of my life.
Sounded like the feeling was mutual now.
Aunt Bug sipped coffee. Took a cookie but then just put it down on her plate untouched. "There's been some talk. Rumors and gossip." Her brows drew down.
"Talk about what?"
"About why the vampires came at the memorial. And what happened to Rhianna afterward."
"Rhianna was too badly hurt. She died," I said automatically. And just as automatically shoved away the flare of grief and guilt. I didn't like lying to Bug, but she was in no way cleared to know the real story. Rhianna was dead, and that was all that mattered. Bug knew we were hunting for the people responsible. Knew the people responsible were connected to Tate, but that was all the detail she had.
"I know that," Aunt Bug said, and I had to school my face not to react. Not to wince from the pinch of guilt that she had such faith in me. Or that maybe she knew I was lying to her and didn't want me to know she knew and was pretending to believe me to keep me happy.
Either way, her blue eyes were serious. "But some people in town want to believe otherwise. Those who like to stir up trouble. Talking nonsense."
Was that a faint hitch in her voice? One I might have missed without wolf hearing? Not much unnerved my aunt, but something was bothering her. "Aunt B, has someone threatened you?"
She humphed. "Not threatened. But there were some boys speaking rubbish about werewolves the other day at the grocery store—"
"About me, you mean?"
Her answering nod was reluctant. "I gave them a piece of my mind, told them exactly what you'd done for Caldwell. Reminded them you saved people that night at the memorial. That you were the one who dealt with Tate in the end. They slunk out of there. But there were others who paid attention. And then not wanting you at the funeral. I hope it's just grief, but…."
"You can stay here with me," I said. Screw Caldwell. Bug could live with me as long as she wanted if she didn't want to deal with their bullshit.
She sipped coffee. "I'd like that. For a few days. Just to make sure you're okay. But then I need to go home. They need to hear some common sense to counter whatever nonsense is being bandied about."
"I don't want anything to happen to you."
She shook her head. "I'll be fine. No one in Caldwell is going to bother me. And I think that sentence is backward. You're the one who keeps getting herself into trouble."
"Believe me, I don't want to. But this case isn't closed yet."
She sighed. "Are you getting anywhere?"
"Slowly. The Taskforce is throwing a lot of resources at the problem. We'll catch him, don't worry."
Much like what had happened to Rhianna, Aunt B only knew the basics about what had happened to me. She knew Smith had worked with Tate and that he was behind the vamp attack at the memorial. I was sure she'd filled in a few more pieces for herself—she was smart enough to read between the lines, and obviously she'd been talking to Ani—but she hadn't ever pressed me for more information.
Aunt Bug frowned, and I noticed the shadows beneath her eyes. She wore makeup but not enough to hide the fact that she looked tired. And older than the last time I'd seen her. I squeezed her hand. "We'll get him. I promise."
She nodded and squeezed back. Then sat back, straightening her shoulders. She tilted her head. "While I'm here, I'd like to meet some more of your pack."
I blinked. That was a definite change of subject. And not one I'd expected. "You would?"
"Of course. These people are part of your life now. I'd like to get to know them. Talking on the phone with Ani isn't the same thing as spending time with her."
"I'll see what we can arrange." I wondered if this was Bug's way of reinforcing the idea that she was taking my side. Socializing with werewolves carried some risk for a human. Lycanthropy was more infectious than the Stoker Variation, and even with vaccination, accidental transmission could happen. But maybe Bug had decided she was okay with that risk when she'd stuck by me after I'd become a wolf. And if she was willing to take the risk, I couldn't argue with her. After all, surrounding Bug with werewolves would ensure her safety from Smith and anyone else who might try anything. It might not improve her popularity in Caldwell—I was smart enough to read between the lines, too, and there was definitely more going on in Caldwell than she was letting on—but that was her choice to make. I would have to put some feelers out and see how bad the mood in the town was.
Aunt Bug sipped her coffee, looked thoughtful. "All right, then, I'll stay. But only for a day or two. Like I said, I'm not letting them chase me away. I have things to do back home."
I picked up my cup again, sipped to hide the anger making me want to grind my teeth. This was Smith's fault. It was one thing to disrupt my life and come after me, but it was another thing entirely to stir up the wounds of my hometown and drive my aunt from the place she'd lived her entire life. Not to mention turn Rhianna's family against me.
If we didn't stop Smith, we might not be the only ones to suffer. Caldwell wasn't the most supernatural-friendly town in Washington, and I couldn't blame them for that after what Tate had done, but even places that were more inclusive might find their tolerance stretched if they learned about plague vampires. It wouldn't take long for anti-vampire sentiment to stretch to all other supernaturals as well.
And I was one of them now.
War between the races would be bloody, and I suspected the humans' weight of numbers would lead them to a victory. And what exactly would such a victory mean? Vamps and shifters interned? Confined to reservations? Or simply wiped from the face of the earth?
I couldn't let that happen.
I wouldn't let that happen.
We'd been following the money trail for weeks now, and the Taskforce had been over the building where Cilla and Smith had held Rhianna and me with a fine-tooth comb more than once and we'd come up blank. The leads that had come from the estate of the vampire who'd sired Tate had dried up, too. Tate had spent her money, and the properties she'd left behind provided no more clues as to where Smith might be now.
There was one other way to go. Circle back to the beginning.
To my father. And whatever the hell it was he had hidden in my head.
"We need a Plan B." I hip-bumped Dan's office door shut behind me with a decisive click, pleased that I had managed not to spill the drinks I carried. The coffee machine in the Taskforce's kitchen was temperamental and it had filled the take-out cups near to the brim. But it was after 9:00 p.m., and I figured Dan could use a caffeine fix if he was feeling like me. I'd spent the day with Bug, had an early dinner with her; then she'd insisted I go to work, claiming she was perfectly happy to watch a movie and have an early night.
Dan looked up, but he didn't put down the tablet he was holding. "For what?"
I put one cup in front of him. The quality of the coffee the machine produced was as random as the foam level. But Dan's years as a cop had killed any hint of coffee snob, and now he mostly cared about hot and sweet when it came to caffeine. And, after a restless night and what was going to be a very long day before I got to bed tonight, I'd take my chances as well. "For me trying to let someone find whatever it is Smith thinks is in my head. If Marco isn't an option, I need someone else."
He dropped the tablet, narrowly avoiding the takeout cup. "You think you're ready to try?"
"I have no idea, but I need to." My stomach twisted at the thought. My experiences with letting vampires into my head wasn't good. First Tate had thralled me multiple times, then Marco to make sure Tate hadn't planted anything that would let him back in. I learned to shield—a werewolf form of a psychic barrier—after that. A little too well. When I hadn't been able to let Cilla, the next crazy vamp who came my way, thrall me thanks to my instinctive shielding, she'd forced Rhianna to do it. I'd trusted Rhi enough to let her in, but it had given her the chance she needed to order me to open a blind and kill both her and Cilla with sunlight.
"Didn't everyone say you needed to give yourself some time?"
If by everyone he meant him, the doctors at the hospital, Ani, and the counselor the hospital had referred me to, then yes.
I waggled my coffee at him, trying to act nonchalant. The heat of the liquid was starting to make my hands uncomfortably warm. A contrast to the cold gnarl of fear in my gut. "I know, but we don't have time to wait, do we?"
"It could make things worse," Dan said. He was watching me, concern clear in his eyes. "Your counselor said—"
"I know what she said, but I want to try again." My counselor, Ella, wanted me to take things slowly in dealing with everything I'd been through. I didn't disagree with the principle, but we were still in the middle of a major investigation and risking a plague of vampires. I couldn't afford to coddle myself.
"Why the rush?"
"I want this case to be over."
"You've wanted that all along. Did Bug say something to you?" He moved the tablet a safe distance back from the coffee, then picked up the cup, swigged, grimaced, and swigged again.
I'd messaged him to say Bug had arrived, and I'd be late into the Taskforce. I hadn't yet told him anything she'd said. But now it was confession time. I sighed as I perched on the edge of his desk. I sipped coffee again, trying to gather control. I didn't want him to see how upset I was. Didn't want to upset him more.
"Rhianna's funeral was yesterday. We weren't invited." My voice cracked again.
Dan flowed out of his seat and had his arms around me in an instant. "Oh, Ash. I'm sorry."
I tried not to give in to the urge to just cry. That would hardly convince him that I was ready to let a vampire read my mind. "They didn't want me there," I said, leaning into him. "They hate me."
"They don't hate you. They're grieving parents. Not thinking straight."
I knew that feeling. I wasn't sure I was thinking straight now. But I knew I had to do something. Had to act. To try to catch Smith. "I know, but…."
"It sucks," he said. "I'm sorry, love. But you still don't have to do this if you're not ready."
I flinched.
He sighed, pressed a kiss into my hair. "There's something else, isn't there?"
"Bug said there's been a lot of talk. About Rhianna and the vamps who attacked. The kind of talk that isn't good for supernaturals."
"That's somewhat understandable in a place like Caldwell."
Dan had visited Caldwell with me. He'd been popular because people knew he'd been involved in the situation that led to me killing Tate. But that was before the latest vampire attack, and no one had known he was a werewolf. I doubted he'd get such a warm welcome now.
"The powers that be in Caldwell have done a lot of work to help people heal," I said. "This sort of stuff isn't normal for them."
"Is it anything more than talk yet? I can talk to Sheriff Thompson, find out what he's hearing."
Kenny Thompson was a small-town sheriff, and he'd grown up in Caldwell like me. He was a decent guy who believed in doing the right thing and the rule of law. He wouldn't be happy about this kind of thing happening on his watch.
"If it's moved beyond just talk, we need to know," Dan said. "A minor act of aggression like that can be a slippery slope, Ashley. Something that seems small can start a nasty snowball into something a lot worse. Let me talk to the sheriff."
"Okay. But don't mention it to Bug unless there's something you think she needs to know about."
"Maybe she should stay with us for a while," Dan said. He eased back on his embrace, stepping back so he could see my face.
I smiled at him, my heart lightening for the first time all day. This was why I loved him, even when we butted heads. Because I knew he would do anything for me and mine. If Bug wanted a break from Caldwell, he wouldn't blink at her staying with us or doing whatever was necessary to make her comfortable and make sure she was okay.
"Well, she said she's here for a few days. She said she'd come to check on me, but I'm not sure it's only that."
"That's a start. Gives me time to feel things out with Kenny."
"She said she wants to meet some more of the pack. Is that something we can arrange?"
I didn't know what the protocol was for human relatives of pack members hanging out. The pack guarded its privacy carefully. Supernaturals were accepted for the most part in Seattle, but, like Caldwell, everywhere had humans who'd be happier if the only people who were around were the ones who were just like them.
Dan shrugged, not fazed by the request. "I'll call Sam, see what we can set up."
"Is that normal?"
"We get new wolves with human families from time to time. Most people don't want to give their families up."
He hadn't. I hadn't. But I was still new to werewolf life, and I hadn't been to any pack gatherings where humans—other than kids not yet old enough to turn—were present yet. "I guess I hadn't thought about it."
"Well, we haven't had any mixers lately." He smiled at me. "But don't worry, we know what we're doing. We'll take things slow. Ani and Sam can set something up for Bug. Probably at their place. We keep things away from the Retreat as much as possible. Some humans get to come there eventually—not at full moon, of course—but usually we stick to the city. Ani has met Bug already, so I can't see that it would be a problem."
"She said she's been talking to Ani on the phone."
Dan grinned. "That sounds like Ani. And your aunt. Don't worry, it won't be a problem."
He leaned across the desk, drained his coffee, crushed the cup, and tossed it to the recycle bin. "So, Bug is why you want to try this so soon? The vampire thing?" The smile faded from his face.
I nodded. "Bug is all I have left, apart from you and Jase. I want her to be able to live her life. I want her to be happy. Safe. Which she'll never be if any more of those plague vamps get loose. We need to stop Smith. Now. Whatever it is he thinks I know is part of that."
Silver eyes were steady as they searched my face. "You're sure?"
"Yes. Ella said she had a colleague, a vampire who helps clients with vampire-related…issues." Trauma was the word she'd used. But I wanted to keep that term out of my head and out of Dan's. And a vampire counselor would have to respect my privacy. If they got a sneak peek of anything in my other memories, then they wouldn't be able to tell Dan.
"That sounds like a good idea," Dan said carefully. "Are you going to give her a call?"
"Yes." Before I lost my nerve again. "I want to try."