Chapter 55-1
Troy
The moment Kiana joined me, I could smell Morven on her. My nostrils flared, and I snarled, but
she shook her head. “I’m fine. What is going on? Who’s dead?”
“I don’t care if you’re fine. I want to know why the fuck you smell like a man who shouldn’t have
been able to get within twenty feet of you.”
“I let him.”
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“You…” Horrified, I stared at her. “Tell me I did not hear you correctly. You let him? Are you out of your fucking mind?”
Narrowing her eyes, she planted her hands on her hips. “No, I’m not. I thought maybe if I wanted to know what he had planned, I could just ask him. And later, I will tell you what he said, just not fucking right now. Who is dead?”
If she thought this conversation was over, she was dead wrong, but this really was not the time to continue the discussion. Willa’s cry had alerted everyone, and they were all coming here.
“I’m not sure. No shifter. She’s female and human. Saul is on his way, but I’m waiting for the other alphas to arrive before I move her. I want to make sure she’s not attached to their entourage.”
“Can I see her?”
I didn’t want her anywhere near the dead body, and I had no reason to suspect that Kiana would recognize a witch or a human that I didn’t, but I nodded. I already had a perimeter set around the body so none of the hunting wolves would trample over her again.
“Willa found her. She’s pretty shaken up,” I said as I walked Kiana toward the clearing.
Kiana’s head snapped up. “Oh, I just bet she’s torn up.”
“Kiana…”
“She would be first in line to hand me over to Morven. Are you certain this isn’t a trap?”
“I’m certain of nothing yet. You don’t think I haven’t thought of that?” I was harsher than I intended, but I still couldn’t figure out how the hell she smelled like Morven. No one had reported an incident
to me. “Do you think I haven’t thought of that? I can’t accuse her just because she doesn’t like you.
If I did that, I’d have to accuse most of my pack.”
Cheeks flushing, she stared down at the body. “I don’t recognize her, but I also can’t smell her.” Head swiveling, she glanced around and frowned.
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“You can’t pick up a trail, can you? Neither could Willa. It’s as if she was dropped from the sky,” I said darkly and pulled her away from the body. Nothing about this crime scene made sense. The only thing I could say definitively was that she was dead.
And chances were good that she was killed by a wolf.
Deep gouges scored her chest, shredding the black tank-top she’d been wearing. Below her waist, she wore a pair of cotton black pants with witch icons printed on them. Broomsticks, a witch’s hat,
a black cat, and a cauldron. They looked like pajamas.
Blood splattered her bare arms and her face, but that was it. There were no bruises or cuts.
Her face was bare. Not a speck of make-up on her, and her blonde hair had been piled up in some kind of bun on the top of her head. Her feet were bare, but there were no cuts on them or leaves
sticking to them.
It looked as if she’d just gotten up from bed, was slashed with wolf claws, and teleported here to
die.
The death was recent. She was still warm, and Willa, in all her babbling, swore up and down that the woman was still breathing and moaned.
“Were her shoes removed?” Kiana asked quietly, as if she could hear my thoughts. “We’d smell a trail then. Maybe she was drugged, placed here, and then killed.”
“Can you see a spell on her?”
“No, but I can only see active magic. If the spell’s worn off, I wouldn’t be able to see it.
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