A couple hours later, Ani led Dan and me back to her study. Sam and Bug were, as I'd predicted, cleaning up after the last few stragglers had left. Bug just smiled and waved us off when I explained that Ani wanted to discuss some pack business for a few minutes.
Dan and I settled onto the sofa, and Ani swung her desk chair around to face us, sipping the mug of green tea she'd carried with her.
"So, is there anything you can do?" I asked. Might as well get the conversation started.
"Can I find what's hidden in your head? At best, that's a maybe," Ani replied, and my heart sank. She had seemed like the perfect option. If she could make me remember, then no need to let anyone into my head, and no need for my secrets to come out.
"Why only 'maybe'?" I asked.
She shrugged, swinging one of her feet back forth. "Alpha powers don't work the same way as a thrall. I can give you a command that you'll be hard-pressed to disobey, but I can't take over your mind the way a vampire can."
"Doesn't that mean you could order me to remember?"
She put her mug on the desk. "I can try, but I suspect that, in your case, it's unlikely to work."
"Why not?"
"You have no memory of your dad doing this to you, do you?"
I shook my head. If Rhianna hadn't told me she thought my dad had put something in my memories, I wouldn't have believed it. I still wasn't entirely sure I did. She'd been half crazed from being turned and desperate for a way out. Cilla and Smith were convinced my dad had been working on something that could help them, but that didn't mean he'd buried clues in my brain. Why would he? He hadn't expected to die.
"So," Ani said. "Your dad buried—or had someone bury—something deep in your subconscious, so deeply you don't have any memory of it being done. I can tell you to remember what you were wearing last Wednesday for lunch, but without something to link the information you're trying to find to, your mind has nothing to zero in on. You don't know when or where this happened. I can't say 'Ashley, remember what your dad left for you on your fourteenth birthday' or whenever it was, so you have nothing to search for. "
That was true. The best we could narrow it down to, if it had happened at all, was somewhere in the couple of years before he died, when my dad worked for Synotech. He must have crossed paths with Smith back then. Smith knew him, but we hadn't figured out how. "Can't you try anyway?"
"I can try. But don't get your hopes up. Unless there's more detail you can give me to work with?" She looked across at Dan, who shook his head
"Do it," I said, tucking my legs up under me.
"Would it really be so bad to let another vampire try?" Ani asked. "It might be easier for them. Minds are strange, and vampires are the experts at this kind of thing."
"I tried with Sylvia. I couldn't stop my shields going up. It wasn't fun." My hands flexed, remembering the panic that had flooded me.
Ani nodded. "It's understandable though, given what you've been through. Most people in your position would avoid vampires altogether." She was a web designer by trade, but she was great at counseling people, too. Alphas needed to be.
I blew out a breath. "I can be around them. It's just the thought of letting one of them rummage through my head that freaks me out."
"Who was the last vamp to thrall you?"
I looked down. The answer to that was Rhianna. But if I confessed that, I'd have to explain the rest. I wasn't ready.
“Cilla," I lied. "At the Retreat that night." When I'd first met the crazy bitch and she'd managed to partially control me. Not a full thrall, but she'd still had power over me. It was after that I'd gotten Ani to teach me to shield. A lesson I'd learned a little too well, it seemed.
"Anyone before that who wasn't a psycho? Someone you trusted?"
The sofa creaked as Dan shifted besides me. Ani looked from me to him, then back to me. There was no hiding the tension between us from our Alpha. But she stuck to the subject at hand.
"Marco," I said quietly. "I was able to let him in after…after Tate." I bit my lip as I heard the rumble in Dan's throat.
"Is Marco an option now?" Ani asked.
"No," Dan said bluntly before I could answer.
Ani cocked her head. "Why not? Besides the fact that you seem to be jealous of him?"
My mouth dropped open. Guess Ani wasn't avoiding the subject of Dan and me after all.
"Because I'd rather not have any more of us in his debt," Dan said.
"Wouldn't he do it if the Taskforce requested?"
"Lord Marco rarely does anything out of the goodness of his heart." The words nearly snapped out. "We'd probably have to get a court order. And I'd prefer not to stir things up between the Old Ones and the bureau right now."
"You could still ask," Ani said. "Maybe he'd take the debt from you if you're concerned about Ashley."
Dan stared at her, his silver eyes darkening. "Having a senior FBI agent in the debt of an Old One of the city isn't a good idea."
"Usually I'd agree with you." Ani looked at him sternly. "But whatever this information is, you seem to need it pretty badly."
"Not that badly," Dan said, jaw setting in a stubborn line.
"Yes we do," I said. "But I agree, Marco isn't the best option. Not if we can find another way."
He looked at me, expression softening before he nodded and turned back to his Alpha. "If this doesn't work, can you teach her to relax her shields? Make it easier on her?"
"That might take more than an Alpha suggestion, too," Ani said. "Ashley's been through a lot, Dan. If her shields are going up unconsciously, she might need therapy for this to work."
I sighed. "That doesn't sound like a quick fix." And we didn't have months to waste. Smith had vanished temporarily, but I doubted he would let things stand as they were. He'd be back. "Ani, let's try this. It's worth a shot."
Ani rose. For a moment, she considered me with a half frown, and then something in her stance changed. She was short and slender, and her red hair was escaping its messy bun, but there was no mistaking who had the most power in the room when she used her Alpha abilities.
"Ashley Keenan," she said in a tone that no one in the pack could have ignored. "I want you to remember what is hidden. I want you to remember the thing you have forgotten, remember the information you need." Her eyes blazed a moment, the green wild and powerful.
The urge to obey was overwhelming. I braced myself against the cushions, half expecting a flood of memories to burst into my head and sweep me away. But none came.
The silence lingered, stretched, and then the atmosphere eased back to normal as Ani blew out a breath.
"Anything?" she asked.
I shook my head. "Not yet." Which meant it wasn't going to work. When an Alpha gave a werewolf an order, the werewolf obeyed. As soon as humanly, or maybe wolfishly, possible. If nothing had risen from the depths of my subconscious in response to Ani's command, then it was unlikely anything was going to.
"What if Sam tried?" Dan asked.
Ani tilted her chin up, green eyes fierce. "Are you suggesting Sam has stronger Alpha mojo than me?"
The look of consternation on Dan's face would have been funny in any other situation. "No, ma'am," he said meekly. "I am not."
"Good." Then she laughed. "You should see the look on your face."
I bit my lip, trying not to laugh, too. I didn't think Dan was in the mood to share the joke.
"But to answer your question," Ani continued, "if it hasn't worked with one Alpha, it's not going to work with two."
I reached out and touched Dan's arm. "We'll think of something else."
"Like what?" he asked. "You want Jase to try?"
"Jason?" Ani sounded startled. "Is he strong enough to do that?"
"Marco says he's strong. He's been teaching Jase for a while now," Dan said, looking at me rather than Ani.
I didn't reply, just as startled as Ani. I hadn't thought about Jase as an option. He was my friend, but I had to admit that his blossoming psychic abilities made me nervous. Most vamps took longer to start to develop significant powers. Jase was apparently an early bloomer. Hence Ani's surprise.
The fact that Jase had drawn Marco's attention was an indication of his potential. He could end up very powerful indeed.
The sort of powerful that meant, if he decided to play vamp political games—and survived them—that maybe one day he could end up an Old One himself.
A fact I had been trying to ignore. Vampires had taken a lot from me. Jase was the first one I'd ever let close. We'd been friends before he turned, and I hadn't wanted to lose him when he'd made his choice based on a terminal diagnosis. I still didn't want to lose him.
I wouldn't allow it. My issues with his powers were just that. My issues. I had to deal. Accept that vamp powers were part of the package, and that most vamps—including Jase—weren't going to abuse them. Just as most werewolves didn't go around biting people willy-nilly to infect them intentionally. And by the time Jase reached Old One status, I might be dead anyway. Marco was at least four hundred years old. Werewolves lived to something more like one fifty. Jase's eventual vampire status was likely not my problem. I just had to accept him for who he was now.
Which might mean I had to do some apologizing if I wanted him to try this.
They say revenge is a dish best served cold. In the case of Smith, it was starting to feel like it was going to be frozen solid.
Bug stayed another day after the cookout at Ani's, but then she headed home, insisting she didn't want to be underfoot.
It had been almost a week since she left. Dan and I had slipped back into working too hard on the case, though we were trying to spend some of our virtually nonexistent free time together. Between Smith, Dan's other cases, my clients, and my continued work trying to figure out where Smith had been siphoning money from Lord Esteban's accounts to, the days and nights blurred together.
And even with werewolf energy, we were both running close to empty.
I hadn't even found time yet to raise the subject of trying to find what was in my head with Jase. Dan had asked me to wait a few more days, insisting—like Ani—that I needed to give myself a break from the stress of trying to overcome my instinct to resist.
To be honest, I hadn't fought him. I knew I had to ask, knew sooner was better than later, but the thought still scared me. Losing myself in work seemed easier, and I hadn't even been in the same room as Jase yet. I'd been working from home or the Taskforce, and he'd been holding down the fort at my office. It wasn't a conversation I wanted to have on the phone. But despite how hard we were working, the week brought no new breakthroughs on the Smith front.
I was running out of time. But being exhausted when I tried again hardly seemed likely to help me control my fear.
Tonight—well, it was early morning, really—I wanted sleep.
I barely summoned the will to scarf down the last of Bug's freezer lasagna that she'd left us. Revenge would have to wait a bit longer. Right now, I longed for soft cotton sheets and the familiar scents of our bed and more than five hours of sleep.
Dan ate as silently and steadily as me. He looked up as he swallowed his last bite. "Wanna watch some TV?"
Thank God for streaming services that made the life of those with weird working schedules easier. But I needed sleep more than a fix of the latest small-town comedy we'd been bingeing.
"I'm wrecked. Can we—"
I broke off as my cell phone shrilled to life. Please, God, let it not be Jase with some work emergency. I rose to grab it off the counter, hitting the Answer button just before my voice mail kicked in.
"Ashley Keenan," I said, trying to sound professional just in case it was a client.
"Ashley, it's Sheriff Thompson," a gravelly voice said in my ear.
The edges of the phone dug into my fingers as they clenched, fear sliding down my spine. "Kenny? Is something wrong with Bug?" My voice sounded too high.
"She's okay, but you need to come home," he said, his usual professionally calm voice edged with something that sounded like fury.
I resisted the urge to clutch the phone even tighter. I'd killed a couple of phones in my first few weeks of werewolf life. It was an expensive mistake. "What's happened?" My mouth was dry.
"Her house is on fire."
"I'll be there as soon as I can."
Dan broke just about every speed limit on the way to Caldwell, but the drive still felt endless. I tried to call Bug every five minutes as we sped through the night, but her phone kept going to voice mail. She was all right, I told myself over and over. Kenny had said she was all right. Maybe the fire had fried her phone. Or maybe it was switched off because she was dealing with the fact that her freaking house was burning down.
In between trying to dial Bug, we got hold of Esme and asked her to find out more about what had happened. She couldn't tell me much more than Kenny had. Police, paramedics, and the fire department had been called to a fire at Bug's address. It was too early for a damage report.
I wound down the window as we reached the outskirts of Caldwell. The stink of smoke was faint at first, growing stronger as we neared Bug's house. A parked patrol car blocked the end of her street. I left Dan to deal with the deputy, clambered out of the car, and hit the ground running, heading for Bug's house. Even in human form, I moved fast. But it still felt like slow motion as I searched the small crowd of people gathered in the street, looking for Bug.
Smoke hung in the air, stinging my eyes and nose. The firemen were still hosing down the house, and the noise from the pump and the water seemed horribly loud.
Where the hell was Bug? I pushed through the neighbors standing around, struggling not to shove them with werewolf force. The smoke blotted out any trace of her scent.
Sheriff Kenny found me first. His hand on my shoulder made me jump and whirl.
"Where is she?" I demanded when I recovered enough to realize who he was. "Where's Bug?"
"She's okay," Kenny said. He jerked his chin toward the far end of the street. The fire trucks blocked the view. "The paramedics are monitoring her. So far she's resisted going to the hospital."
"If she's all right, why does she need to be monitored?" I started walking in the direction he'd indicated. Fast.
Kenny kept pace with me. "She's almost seventy, and she just escaped from a house fire. It's a precaution." He was using one of those deliberately calm tones I'd learned law enforcement people use when they're dealing with people who they think are being too emotional. Well, screw him. I had a right to be emotional. Like he said, Bug had just escaped from a fire. And “precaution” was a weasel word I didn't trust.
I sped up. As we passed the house, the choking ash scent was almost overwhelming. After one quick glance, I didn't want to look any closer. Bug first; then I'd worry about the house. Houses could be rebuilt. People couldn’t.
I ducked between the trucks, Kenny's presence smoothing my way when a female firefighter stepped into my path asking who I was. I ignored her and kept walking. Two ambulances were parked at the end of the street.
Two?
"Was someone else hurt?" I asked.
Kenny shook his head. "Not so far. But both units were free, so they both came down to help out. They'll take care of the firefighters if they get any minor injuries."
"How did it start?" Bug was always careful. She wasn't the kind to leave a stove unattended or a candle burning.
"We don't know yet," Kenny said. His voice was grim. Never the most effusive man in town, the degree of serious in his smoke-roughened rasp was high, even for him.
I stopped, staring at him. "Do you think this was arson?" Blood rushed in my ears. Had someone just tried to kill Bug? Or, at best, scare her out of Caldwell?
He shook his head. "It's too early to tell."
"Tell what?" Dan appeared through the smoke haze, coming to stand with me.
"Whether the fire was set deliberately," I said, voice going way too high. Who would do that to Bug? She was popular in town. She'd lived here all her life. Hell, she'd taught half the current adult population.
Dan's gaze snapped to Kenny. "Is that likely?"
"The house is old, but Bug had it rewired just a year ago. She's careful." Kenny didn't look happy.
I tasted bile and swallowed hard against the nausea. Kenny was trying to sound professional, but I could hear the worry in his voice. No way he thought this was an accident.
I turned to Dan. "We're taking Bug back to Seattle with us. I want her somewhere safe."
He nodded, still frowning. "Fine with me. The question is whether she'll agree to that."
"I'll convince her. I'm not going through this again." The fact that someone might be trying to scare Bug or chase her out of town made me sick, but that might not be the only danger. Smith and his various vampire conspirators liked leverage. They'd used Bug and Dan to force confrontations with me before now.
Not this time. This time no one would be left vulnerable. Or taken from me.
I scowled, then focused on Kenny. "You need to figure out who did this. If it was someone from the town, then that's your issue. If it wasn't, then there might be a bigger problem."
His expression turned grim. "A problem like what happened at the memorial service?"
I didn't deny it. Kenny wasn't in the need-to-know group when it came to what had really happened to Rhianna, but he wasn't a stupid small-town cop. He knew there was something bigger going on. In the last few months, I'd become a werewolf, I'd killed Tate, and then there'd been another vampire attack here. These days, vampires usually played by the rules. Even in the cities, random attacks by individual vamps were rare, and when they happened, it was usually a young vamp out of control. I couldn't remember the last time there'd been a group attack like the one at the memorial service.
It was plain that things weren't exactly situation normal.
Maybe the fire was simply the result of the attack stirring up old wounds and anti-supernatural sentiment in Caldwell. Or maybe not. "I don't know. But I'll take Bug home with me. If this is related to me, then hopefully nothing else will happen here."
If it hadn't already. My chats with Bug over the last week had been brief, both of us trying to be lighthearted. She hadn't mentioned any other incidents, but maybe she hadn't told me everything.
"Has anything else happened? Bug mentioned some problems. Is she the only one who’s been targeted?" I asked. Dan had spoken to Kenny when Bug visited us, but Kenny said nothing had been reported to him. But that was a week ago. Things might have shifted with Bug returning, or it might be that it wasn't only me the town had a problem with. Bigger cracks could be forming between those who wanted nothing more to do with supernaturals and those who were reasonable.
My hands clenched. Perhaps Caldwell wasn't a perfect reflection of how humans would react if they found out about a vampire plague. The town's history with Tate meant the residents were predisposed to be suspicious toward vamps and shifters. But the town leaders had worked hard not to let that hatred blossom into ugliness over the years. To try to make sure Caldwell was a modern town and didn't cut itself off from the supernatural world.
If what happened at the memorial service was undoing all of that, inflaming the fear to the point where it would win and raise the level of hostility against all supernaturals, then that was scary. Exactly the sort of thing we'd feared might happen if people learned about the plague vamps.
This was why we needed to catch Smith. To stop the world going to hell.
"There have been a few things," Kenny said. "A bit more vandalism than usual. People complaining about prank calls. Nothing I would have called serious until now. But I'll have a word with the mayor. People can be angry about what happened, yes, but I'm not having this sort of shit tear up my town. We're better than that."
I hoped he was right. But until I had more reason to believe he was, I was taking Bug out of there.
I nodded at Kenny, then pointed at Dan. "Tell him all the details. The FBI is still investigating what happened at the memorial. There might be a link they can find that you can't. I'm going to go find Bug."
I didn't wait for Dan to protest about me offering the Taskforce's services. I was right. They needed to look into this. Bug was too close to me not to be a target for Smith. Again.
The thought quickened my pace.
I made my way past another small group of neighbors, braced for any signs of resentment, but I saw only concern on the faces that turned toward me as I headed for the nearest ambulance.
Bug sat on the edge of the truck, an oxygen mask over her face. A female paramedic who looked familiar stood next to her, typing something into a tablet. I took that to be a good sign that Bug was doing okay.
"Aunt B," I said, leaning in to give her a careful hug. She smelled like smoke, the harshness of it almost hiding her normal lavender and soap scent. My eyes prickled. I wanted to grab her tight and spirit her away someplace safe. "Are you okay?"
She rolled her eyes and tugged down the mask. "I'm fine. Aisha here is being overly cautious."
"I'm just doing my job," Aisha said, rolling dark eyes at me. "Smoke inhalation is no joke." She stowed the tablet in a rack in the back of the ambulance. "Ashley, it's nice to see you. Your aunt is doing well. She got out fast. No burns. It would be good if she stuck to the oxygen a little longer." She reached out and gently put Bug's mask back in place. "Then she should come to hospital and let the doctors confirm all of that."
"Thank you, Aisha. Is there any reason why I couldn't take her back to Seattle and get her checked out there?" I asked.
Bug yanked her mask down again. Her eyes were reddened from the smoke but fierce. "I'm not going anywhere."
I held up my hands, palms out. "Don't shoot the messenger, but you need to stay somewhere. They're not going to let you back in the house for a few days, I'd say." That was probably optimistic. The fire was still burning. I couldn't even begin to work out how much damage the water and smoke and flames might have done. "And I want you to come back with me."
"I just got home," Bug said, expression mulish. "I have things to do."
She always did. Bug had always been big on volunteering and diving into all the little community rituals that made up life in a small town. Since she'd retired, she'd only increased her involvement. Sometimes I wondered why she hadn't just kept working if she was going to spend so many hours a day on all her various projects and causes.
Not that I'd say that to her. That would only earn me a lecture about responsible citizenship and civilized communities. I'd heard it before. Even before Dan came back into my life, the weird hours I worked to service my supernatural clients ruled out many opportunities to give back the way Bug did. Now the pack and the case took up any fraction of spare time I had. I wrote nice big checks to charities, including some Caldwell organizations, and left it at that.
"I'm sure Caldwell can continue to function for a few more days without you. If they can't, you're not training them right." I smiled, giving her my best version of puppy-dog eyes, trying not to let her see how much I wanted to get her the hell out of there. "Come back with me. I'll take you shopping." It was our usual way to hang out when she came to town. I'd take some time out, and we'd wander through our favorite shops and finish the day with martinis at one of our favorite swanky downtown hotels. We hadn't been able to do it when she'd been in Seattle last week. She'd been too tired for a late night and I'd been too busy.
This time she really would need to go shopping. The thought made my stomach turn again, and I fought to keep the smile on my face. Who knew what state her clothes might be in after a fire? Bug had lived in her house a long time. All those memories. All her things. How much had she just lost?
Because of me. Because I was a werewolf now, and I had brought the worst of the supernatural world back to town.
I glanced back toward the house, but the firetrucks blocked my view. How much damage had I done?
As though she knew what I was thinking, Bug reached for my hand, squeezing it. "Stop fretting," she said. "I'll come with you."