Jane thought, Why aren’t there any people? Last time I was here, I must have seen ten people in the garden and barn. At least the sheriff’s deputy is here.
The deputy was standing on front porch, stick in hand, staring through open door. After long moment, he turned, went back to his car. Made punching motion and put cell phone to his ear. “Roul. Yeah. I see. You think you got her subdued? Can you keep her that way? Shit man, we weren’t supposed to act until moonrise. Sun screws up the stasis spell. If this gets out before dark, when we can get back in—Yeah. Right. Okay.” Deputy punched button on phone and got in car. Started engine, low growl like cat, and drove slowly away, tires rolling over small rocks and shells. As car drew even, smelled werewolf stink.
Deputy was werewolf.
Yeah, Jane thought, surprised. I recognize him from the biker’s bar. And smart me, I told Sloan to send a deputy to Leo’s. If the wolves got one of their own in as a cop, then they’ve been planning this return to Leo’s territory for a long time, maybe just waiting for the opportunity. She went silent inside of head. Worried.
I huffed and lay chin on paws, peering through tall grass. Smelled blood on air, strange blood. Like blood dropped on hot stone, vampire blood and pack blood, mixed. Scorched and burnt. And smell of magic. All coming through open front door.
I hunched shoulders and shuffled paws forward, through grass. Raised belly off ground and crouched toward house, through flowers, over shredded bark, moving slowly, like stalking, but no prey to pounce on. Moving toward Leo house and blood smell.
At bottom of front steps, smell of magic and blood grew stronger, smells flowing on air from open door of Leo house. Big-cats do not hunt for prey in daylight. Dusk hunter. Night hunter. Dawn hunter. Best under pregnant moon, full and bright on ground. Not day hunter, to creep up man steps to man house to see inside. But lifted paw and set it on bottom step. Pawpawpaw up steps fast, sheriff-deputy-wolf-smell beneath paws. Ready to leap from steps into bushes. But no need. No people moved. House was silent. Smell of blood and magic growing stronger.
Witch magic, Jane thought. Which makes no freaking sense. Witches and vamps don’t work together unless the negotiations are a lot further along than I thought. But then, nothing about vamps makes a lot of sense. Let me see inside.
I padded to front door. Looked inside. White marble floor was splattered in blood. A young female lay on stone, eyes wide, one hand lifted up. Blood looked fresh, wet and new. Much blood. Female did not breathe. Heart did not beat. But she did not look dead and blue.
Not yet, Jane thought. Nettie. She served me breakfast once. She helped me with the search of Tyler’s room. She can’t be twenty-five.
Careful to avoid blood, I padded with hunter’s crouch into house, stubby tip of tail jerking with Jane’s worry. With fear of being in man house in Beast form. Walked across bird of prey in stone. Leo’s heraldic device, Jane thought, studying bird. Whether that thing is an Anzu or not, I don’t know. But it isn’t a phoenix. How could I have missed that?
Inside foyer, in living room, found more bodies, looking dead, no breath. Many bleeding from bite marks. Not alive. But not dead. Afraid. Standing or sitting in small groups, looking at nothing, as if they had been herded into room like sheep.
Maids, enforcers, gardeners, grooms, the butler, and chef, Jane thought. Stasis spells everywhere. The werewolves attacked, bit a bunch of them, and put stasis spells over it all. Spells they bought from a witch. But the deputy said the spell went wrong in the daylight. But . . . What do they want?
To take over as alpha of city, I thought. Working with Leo’s enemies.
Yeah. Okay. Power play. I get why they bit Leo’s blood-servants. Turn them and take away his support system. But why kill Nettie?
Girl ran? Predators would chase; instinct for chasing. Girl fought? Predators would subdue. Kill may be accident. Or wolf-bitch, jealous. Like Jane with Ricky Bo. Heard sly tone in voice, hacked with laughter.
I’m not jealous.
I blew through nose and padded across room, around stasis spell, careful to avoid blood droplets. Into a corner where something gleamed. Metal. Silvery. Jane’s chain-mail throat collar. It was mangled, torn by predator’s killing teeth.
Jane stared, thinking. They wanted someone to think I was part of all this.
Pack hunters planned to make Leo think you are enemy. Make Leo think you turn against him. Jane was surprised. I snorted again. Sometimes Jane stupid.
Take it. And let’s get out of here.
I lifted necklace in mouth and turned, tail swinging. Started from room. Heard click. Froze, dropped belly to ground. Useless move. No tall grass to hide behind. Belly-crawled to sound, to doors, like closet doors in Jane’s house-den. Door was cracked open. Click inside.
Maybe more chickens. Maybe rabbits! Clicking inside. Unsheathed claws on right paw and caught door, silver collar dangling from jaw. Pushed it open with soft squeak of metal.
Sweet! Jane thought, pushing into front of brain, taking over as alpha. Leo’s security system.
I stood on back legs and put front paws on desk. Lights blinked. Light box with picture showed Leo, his image fuzzy and reddish, like blood flowing in stream. He was awake and sitting on a bed, holding his arm close to his body. Blood was drying on his clothes, much, life-stealing blood. Spell over Leo’s bed was red. A witch spell like one from Jane’s Molly. Hedge of thorns.