Hunting Ground

“Brought sustenance. Take one,” Angus said. He had a cup holder with four steaming cups: two cocoas, two coffees.

Charles took a cocoa and A

“Need to wake up,” she told him, so he must have looked surprised.

Angus set the holder on the table and took a seat, the other coffee in hand. “Chastel’s dead,” he said flatly.

“I thought his wounds weren’t enough to kill him.” Charles actually couldn’t remember how much damage he’d done.

“Not from the fight.” Angus took a swig of coffee. “Someone shot him with silver buckshot and then… It looks like they filleted him. Beat the hell out of Michel, poor bugger. Do you know him? Fractured skull, broken jaw, broken ribs, and other trauma. It’ll be a while before he’s in any shape to tell anyone anything.”

“Who killed him?”

“That’s the problem; your scent is the only one present besides Chastel’s and Michel’s.”

“He was with me all night,” A

Charles gave her a pleased smile. “I didn’t kill him, nor had I hand in it.”

Angus nodded glumly. “Figured so. But needed you to tell me.”

“Filleting a person takes time.” Charles supposed that was something he shouldn’t admit to knowing. “How professional was the job?”

“I couldn’t have butchered a hog as well,” Angus said. “And I worked as a butcher for twenty years.” He hesitated, then sat on the chair. “Look, I know it wasn’t you. This is… not your style of kill. Whoever did this was frick ing crazy. You’d have just ripped him to pieces and been done with it. But that fae… she can’t recognize the truth when she hears it. Not like we can-the fae don’t accept our word as good enough.” He sounded a little bitter.

“As soon as Dana gets news, she’s going to be after you-who escaped her clutches before.” He gave a little nod to A

He took a strong swallow of his coffee. “Her word. And she’s a Gray Lord. She’ll have every fae in the States on your tail. If you resist, if your father resists-and you know he will-it would be war.”

“Would she do that?” A

“Yes,” Angus bit out without hesitation.

“We have to find out who killed him before she hears Chastel is dead, then.” Charles said it as if it was no big deal.

“Right.”

“Call your minions and have them cancel the dog and pony show for today,” said Charles. “Arthur’s mate’s death is a good enough excuse for now. We need to check out Chastel’s death scene, then I’ll talk to Michel.”

ANGUS was a good guide, stopping at yellow lights so A

He’d told them that the French wolves had stayed in a private residence, rented in the Queen A

She saw the house before Angus turned on his signal. It was thoroughly modern, standing out from its more traditional neighbors like a sore thumb. And the reason she knew it was the right house was because of the werewolf drinking beer on the front porch.

Ian, their greeter from the airstrip, sat on a metal rocking chair with a can in his hand. The beer was camouflage, she thought. It was cold enough out that a man sitting on his porch at two thirty in the morning for hours was odd-and the beer can made it a little less… remarkable. Like he’d been kicked out and was waiting to be let in.

A

A

At the top of the stairs, Ian held the front door open-while he stood a little to the side, protecting himself as much as possible from the smell of murder. He kept his attention firmly on his Alpha.

“Sir,” he said. “No one in since you left. We’ve guards front and back as you requested. The other Frenchmen are settled in at the hotel as you requested.”

“Good.”

“Yes, sir.” Ian appeared a little stressed. Impulsively, A

He took a couple of deep breaths and stared at her.

Angus tapped him on the cheek affectionately. “Omega wolf, my boy. Spreading peace and happiness, it’s what they do.”

He gestured, and A

“If Dana set this up, she’ll know already,” said A

“Yes,” Charles said. “Still, no sense advertising it if she doesn’t.” He paused in the hallway and looked at her. “You understand people better than I do. Do you think Dana would hire vampires? Do you think the vampires could be operating on their own?”

He underestimated himself, she thought, but put her instincts to work anyway.

“She’s a Gray Lord. She enjoys playing games-she… takes pleasure in making herself look… unattractive. Which probably means she’s either horribly ugly or stu

“Agreed,” said Charles.

“As far as the vampires are concerned… When they came after us, there was no emotion, no personal involvement in it. Just doing a job. But then we killed a couple of them, and that made it personal, right? So when they killed Su

“Angus?” Charles asked. “Dana lives here. You’ll know her better than we do.”

“I don’t understand women at all,” disavowed Angus. “Add fae to that, and you can count me out.” There was a little pause. “But I think Rabbit’s got her nailed. Sounds right about the vampires, too.”

“A

Angus tilted his head. “Term of respect,” he told A

“If you please.” Charles didn’t dwell on it, he just went on to the next thing. “The vampires have some way of masking their scent from us. Keeps us out of their daytime sleeping places.”

Angus froze. “You think this is a vampire kill? Four vampires against Chastel and Michel?”

“The Beast was hurt.” Charles avoided saying the names of the dead, usually. Referring to them by a nickname was apparently okay. “Michel… is much less dominant than your Tom. His heart is in the right place, but he is no warrior. Otherwise, the Beast would have killed him long since. Where were the rest of the French wolves?”

“At an all-night LAN party.”

“A LAN party?” A

Angus nodded. “Alan thought it might be interesting-let them get their aggression out without actually killing anyone.” He paused. “And no one actually did-not there, anyway. Anyway, he and a few members of his family, several of my pack, and… I think one of the Spaniards took it upon themselves to arrange a LAN party with some first-person shooter game.”