Lion's Share

Kaci growled and clutched her keys, then slammed the office door and stomped out of the house. Marc chuckled when the car started, then tore out of the driveway as if the gravel were on fire.

Faythe gave me a sympathetic look. “Don’t take it personally. It was hard for her to lose both you and Ethan so close together.”

Lose me? Kaci hadn’t….

But hadn’t she? It had been three years since I’d visited. That was an eternity in teen-time, and her crush on me hadn’t exactly been a secret. She’d probably felt abandoned—an innocent casualty of my avoidance of Faythe and Marc.

I was almost relieved when Rick Wade cleared his throat, calling the meeting to attention. “Now that we’re all—”

Light footsteps clacked from the hallway, then the door opened and Karen Sanders backed into the room, carrying a silver tray loaded with full mugs and a pot of coffee. A chin-length strand of gray hair fell across her face, and when she tried to blow it out of the way, Marc rose to take the tray from her.

“You don’t have to do that, Mom,” Faythe chided. “We can all get our own coffee.”

“I’ve never had to do it,” Karen—Rick’s sister and Abby’s aunt—said. “And I really don’t mind.” She distributed mugs and poured coffee but gave a Faythe a paper cup instead, with a glance at her daughter’s pregnant belly. “But you only get hot chocolate.”

“Because baby Ethan already has a sweet tooth?” I mock-whispered to Abby, who sat next to me on the leather couch.

She rolled her eyes and leaned closer. “Caffeine isn’t good for a developing fetus.”

“You know there’s caffeine in chocolate, right?” I said as her father stood to address the room. Abby stuck her tongue out at me.

“Okay.” Rick Wade cradled his full mug in both hands. “We’ve come together to discuss the recent rash of human murders in the Appalachian Territory, and with six council members present, we have the quorum required to put a plan into action.” He turned to me. “How many murders have there been so far?”

“Three.” I was acutely aware of each gaze trained on me. I’d arrived at the meeting with one strike already against me in the minds of my fellow council members. Even those who’d supported my takeover of the Appalachian Pride. After all, how good can an Alpha possibly be if he doesn’t realize there’s a serial killer loose in his territory until the bastard’s already slaughtered three humans?

“And we’re sure the killer is a stray?” Marc asked.

“Actually, we’re not sure, because we haven’t been able to inspect any of the crime scenes yet.” I set my mug on the end table to my left, then leaned forward with my elbows resting on my knees. “The first two victims were killed last month, but the first didn’t get much press until the second established a pattern. Until then, the first victim was assumed to have been mauled by one of his own dogs.”

“How can we be sure that’s not what happened?” Ed Taylor asked.

“The claw marks on first and second victims match, which means they were inflicted by the same animal. The state medical examiner ran some tests and realized the wounds are from feline claws, not canine.” I shrugged. “We all know cougars won’t settle into any region inhabited by shifters, and jaguars don’t live as far north as Kentucky.”

Abby’s eyes narrowed as she thought aloud. “So, we know for sure that the killer is one of ours, but not whether he’s stray or Pride?”

I nodded, and her father frowned. For a second, I thought he’d ask her to leave the room because she was neither an Alpha nor an official advisor to the council, like Karen. But before he could make up his mind, Faythe leaned forward, one hand resting on her stomach. “I assume the plan is to ID the killer and take him out?”

“ASAP. Assuming the vote tonight supports execution,” I added. “The third murder took place three days ago, and that scene’s the only one still fresh enough to be of much use. Now that the cops are done with it, I’ll be checking it out personally as soon as I get home.”

“In Manchester?” Abby sounded like something was stuck in her throat, and though she was staring at the rug, her eyes were unfocused.

Burt Di Carlo frowned. “What?”

“Manchester is where the third murder took place.” I turned back to Abby. “How did you know that?”

“Um…TV.” She met my gaze but seemed to struggle to pull my face into focus. “It must have been on the news. You’re going there, what? Tomorrow?”

“That’s the plan.”

Rick took a sip from his mug, his focus still trained on me. “Just tell us what you need.”

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