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Chapter 24

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Human feet couldn’t make the journey up the stairs as quickly as wolf feet had fled down them. So I caught dribs and drabs of shouted conversation as I ran.

“Get your hands off her!” That was Slim, broadcasting his voice so loudly he was likely to wake the neighbors.

Mr. Smythewhite’s answer was quieter and imbued with amusement. “Now, see here. Your daughter’s an adult and can make her own decisions....”

“That’s not my father!” The terror in the young woman’s voice had been replaced by exasperation. “Do I look like I share even one chromosome with this vagrant?”

Okay. So nobody was dying. This was a farce, not a murder. Slim would likely extricate himself soon.

I slowed from a sprint to a jog, pausing when my foot hit something hard in the middle of the floor. The palm-sized rectangle skittered sideways while buzzing with the same alert I’d been hearing all evening.

Slim’s phone. Had it fallen out of his pocket while he stalked what he thought was a murderer? Did its reason for being on the ground even matter?

I reached down to pick it up.

“You’re sure he’s not hurting you?” Slim, bless his heart, was chivalrous even in the face of what I suspected was two unclothed and very unhappy strangers.

The woman’s bare feet hit the floor with a smack of frustration. “I’m calling the police.”

“You can’t,” Mr. Smythewhite growled, his feet thumping down ten times louder. “My wife...”

“You’re married?” The female voice rose an entire octave, and now Slim finally made his retreat.

In the hallway, our eyes met for one split second. His brows drew together as he caught sight of the phone in my hand.

He patted his pocket. Took a single step toward me. I could almost see what little trust I’d gained by being Bastion’s partner burning off like fog at dawn.

But his distrust was secondary to the image I’d found waiting on the screen for him. The followup to the earlier amber alert.

A girl had died only an hour ago. She’d been strangled in the forest beneath a cliff the locals called Lover’s Leap.

She was surrounded by dolls and plastic animals. And around her mottled throat hung a very familiar golden chain.

***

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THE TIMELINE MADE NO sense. Well, it made no sense if Mr. Smythewhite was indeed the murderer.

Because, one hour ago, he’d been in his office. We were sure of that. Grace had gotten through to him on his landline then Slim and I had watched the door until he emerged

Meanwhile, the stealer of Bastion’s pelt had been busy making another kill. The girl from the forest. The dancer with dolls. The sweetness I’d chosen not to intrude upon.

The child hadn’t touched me, but she had worn my necklace. Apparently that was enough contact to draw the killer in.

I took a step toward Slim, grabbing his sleeve to get his feet moving. “We have to go. Now.

His jaw clenched, but he obeyed me. We were halfway to the stairs when I glanced back.

A red-haired harridan flew out of her room with her phone raised like a weapon. The moment our eyes met, the device in her hand clicked.

She’d taken my picture. That wasn’t good.

But the overhead lights weren’t on in the hallway. Cell-phone photos were so-so in dim spaces. Chances were good she hadn’t gotten anything recognizable....

Then the young woman faltered. “Your eyes....”

I hadn’t bothered to bring along a pair of Grace’s contact lenses. Which meant my irises would glow faintly yellow in the low light streaming out of her bedroom. Their amber color was never more evident than in the half dark.

The redhead’s phone clicked again. Slim was wisely facing in the opposite direction. But each photo of my face meant I was less likely to keep sliding under the radar.

In the distance, a siren moaned.

Now Slim was the one to drag me forward. His hand grabbed my wrist, skin touching skin. “Honor, get moving.”

I closed the eyes that had betrayed me. Winced at the reveal of my first name. How much more would we tell this angry woman? That I was a woelfin? Perhaps we should shout out Luke’s address while we were on a revelatory roll?

Then we were running. Slim first with me tumbling along after him. I almost pushed him down the stairs, actually, when my speed exceeded his own.

Instead, I grabbed his arm and pulled him erect again. I shouldn’t touch him. But we’d already made that mistake earlier.

And Slim’s safety paled in the face of knowledge that the stealer of Bastion’s pelt had struck a mere hour ago. If we worked fast, we might manage to catch the murderer before he struck again.