Lunacy (Blood Trails Book 13), page 13
I didn’t take my eyes off Cormac. “Once again, Peasblossom… He can hear you. Shifters can always hear you.”
Peasblossom sniffed. “Good.”
Magda took her seat beside Cormac on his right, tensing as she passed Talia. The younger female immediately took a seat on Cormac’s other side. Jackal sat next to Talia, half-throwing his large frame into the seat in a way that made me think there was a reason the furniture at New Moon tended to be hardier than most. To my surprise, Danielle had entered the room with them, and now she took a seat next to Magda. I would have thought a recent admit to New Moon would spend time with the other clients, or in her room. If she was here for addiction, at the very least, she shouldn’t be around her family. One of the first steps in addiction recovery was to remove the individual from their home life to allow them to identify any negative behavior patterns.
Codependency was a big concern.
Ruth entered the room then too, still wearing the same long skirt and over-sized sweater combination from before. If the look she gave her newest client was any indication, she wasn’t happy about Danielle’s participation in the family meal either. I wondered if she’d made her presence a requirement to allow it. I half expected her to give me a dirty look, her usual disapproval fueled by the fact I was sitting down at a family meal dinner—at Liam’s right hand. But apparently maintaining a united front was more important, and the redhead merely nodded at us both. It made me respect her a little more.
Danielle put her hand over Magda’s, and Cormac’s wife relaxed, if only slightly. She gave Danielle a weak smile and squeezed her hand.
The doors opened again and Brenna and St. John appeared pushing two carts loaded down with eggs, hash browns, pitchers of juice—and enough bacon and sausage to feed me for a year. The couple made a cute match, both of them with short blond hair, both of them hovering around five foot six. Only their eyes were starkly different. Brenna’s were a deep blue like her brother.
And St. John’s were red.
The blood-like effect on his irises stemmed from his fox form. St. John hadn’t been born a shifter, he’d been cursed by a witch. A lover he hadn’t treated as well as he ought. I didn’t condone using magic to punish bad boyfriends, but for what it was worth karma had balanced things out. If St. John hadn’t been cursed with a fox form, he’d never have met and fell in love with Brenna.
Brenna smiled brightly at everyone as she and St. John set up a cart on either end of the table.
“Help yourselves,” she said, her voice taking on the higher pitch of someone trying very hard to relieve the tension in the room.
She led the way, taking a plate from the table on the other side of Liam and then loading it down with eggs, hash browns, and sausage. St. John took the plate from the position next to hers and got his own food—though I noticed he went to the cart farthest from Cormac to get his breakfast. The rest of us followed suit, and I couldn’t help but notice that Cormac’s pack all waited for their alpha to get his food and sit down, with Magda going next, and then the rest of the pack, while Liam waited for his pack to get their food first before rising to fill his own plate.
The contrast between the two alphas continued to grow.
“Eat while it’s hot,” Brenna chirped in an overly perky tone. She grabbed her fork and stabbed a sausage link as she looked back and forth from her brother to her father. “It’s been a long time since we had breakfast together. This is nice.”
“Will Emma and Stephen not be joining us?” Cormac grabbed several slices of bacon at once and bit off a large bite. “It was my understanding that despite the serious charges against her, she was under no restrictions at all?”
Brenna’s smile wilted at the corners. “Dad, let’s have a nice meal. Please.”
“I understand why Emma isn’t here,” Talia spoke up, mirroring Cormac’s actions with her own bacon. She shoved the better part of six pieces into her mouth, chewing viciously as she fixed her stare on me. “She’s probably too worried to eat anything right now. What with the pending murder charge.” She paused, furrowing her brow in exaggerated confusion. “That is assuming you plan to charge her? What with all the evidence pointing directly to her, and her history of similar behavior?”
“I don’t think my son is ready to charge her,” Cormac spoke around his bacon. “He’s still hoping Ms. Renard will be able to offer up some poor scapegoat in her place.”
Brenna frowned, and Cormac looked at her, his face softening. “Which of course I understand. Punishing someone we care about isn’t easy, even if they deserve it. I don’t blame Liam for exhausting every possibility, no matter how remote. If that’s what it takes for him to feel comfortable enough to do what needs to be done, then so be it.”
“It’s Mother Renard, actually, not Ms. And is it so unusual for an alpha to want proof before he condemns someone?” I asked, scooping up a bite of scrambled eggs.
“What more proof do you need, Mother Renard?” Cormac asked, his voice pushed higher with false curiosity. “She was at the scene. She admitted she was there specifically to meet the victim. She broke the rules to meet him in private.” He looked at Liam. “Something else she is yet to be punished for.”
“Circumstantial.” I reached for my glass of juice. “And when I see an abundance of circumstantial evidence without any physical evidence to back it up, I have to consider all possibilities.”
“So you support my son’s reticence?” Cormac asked. “My understanding is that there very well might have been physical evidence, but Emma washed it away. Was she not found immediately after the murder, freshly showered with the clothes she’d been wearing already in the wash?”
“You’re suggesting she should have remained in urine-soaked clothes?” I asked.
Cormac ignored me this time, turning his heavy stare to his son. “Jackal was an MP. He’s been helping out, asking around.”
“You were in the military police, Jackal?” Brenna asked, sounding almost desperate to change the subject.
“He was,” Cormac answered before Jackal could speak. “In the army, before he was turned.”
Jackal didn’t look up from his breakfast, but there was no mistaking the tension that slithered up his back to seize his shoulders. I wasn’t sure if the tension resulted from the mention of his past in the military, or if it was Cormac’s use of it.
Cormac continued. “You know, the truth is, I can almost respect Emma for defending her territory. If this lone wolf, Dustin, has been pissing all over New Moon property, then he should have been dealt with—severely.”
He didn’t come right out and say Liam wasn’t defending his land, but it was there in his tone.
“The forest isn’t New Moon property,” Liam said, his voice tight. “It’s public land.”
“To humans.” Cormac said mildly. “To us, that’s pack territory, and you’re not defending it. You’re putting yourself and everyone in your care at risk.” He looked up at Liam, and the first hint of anger warmed his eyes. “For pity’s sake, Liam, you’re a cop. Is there no part of you, beast or man, that wants to see that woman punished for killing someone?”
Brenna looked like she was ready to physically put herself between the two men, but St. John took her hand and squeezed it, shooting her a warning look.
“Don’t worry, Bren,” Danielle said, giving Cormac a brittle smile. “The old man here isn’t above letting a criminal into his pack. He’s got no room to throw stones.”
Cormac fixed her with a look that would have made me think twice about moving, but Danielle met his eyes with a steely glare of her own.
“You were punished for your crimes,” Cormac said evenly. “You served your time, according to the law.”
Danielle leaned back in her chair and smirked. “Not for all of them. You think I jumped straight to armed robbery? You know how many wallets I lifted—”
Magda put a hand on her arm, and immediately Danielle’s expression changed and she sat up straight. I wouldn’t have said she looked apologetic, but it was close.
Cormac’s blue eyes darkened to the shade of a storm-tossed sea, and I could almost see lightning strikes dancing in his pupils. His eyes didn’t turn the color of his beast’s, so he was still in control, but his temper suddenly filled the air with a thick electrical charge that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I couldn’t feel Cormac’s aura like I could Liam’s, but emotion was its own magic. It didn’t take a witch to feel this tension. This…fury.
“How are you feeling, Danielle?” Ruth spoke up, breaking the silence before Cormac could. “Are you settling in all right?”
“I feel fine for an addict who’s been forced into rehab.” Danielle picked up a sausage link in one hand and shoved the whole thing into her mouth. “But you probably mean ‘emotionally.’ And in that sense, I’d wager I feel better than most of the people at this table. Eh, Liam?”
I turned to Liam and blinked in surprise when I saw he’d cleaned his plate already. The water pitcher closest to him was empty too.
I wasn’t sure if I should take it as a good sign that he clearly had a full belly, or a bad sign that he was just as clearly using food to keep from letting loose whatever was on his mind.
“Let’s not talk about work,” Brenna said, her voice a little too loud.
“What do you want to talk about?” Cormac asked, pinning Brenna with a dark look. “The fact that your brother is dating a witch?” He gestured to me without looking at me. “After what happened with Kristine, he’s dating a broom-rider. How do you think that’s going over with the pack? With the clients who come here to feel safe. Seeing him date one of the spell-slingers that enslaved Fenrir-knows how many of his people. There’s no accountability, people are dying, and your brother sits there like a stone without giving any indication that he realizes what a—”
“Oh!” Magda dropped a hand to her stomach and swayed in her seat. “Oh, Cormac, I don’t feel well.”
Cormac whirled to face his wife, looking like he might backhand her right there at the table for interrupting him. His gaze flicked from her face to her half-empty plate. A growl crawled out of his throat as he snatched it away from her and put it on the other side of his own plate. “You ate too fast. You’re done.”
Magda looked at her plate, a pained expression on her face as she eyed her unfinished meal, but at Cormac’s look she immediately dropped her gaze to her lap. I tightened my grip on my silverware, trying to smother the feeling of my magic crackling against my palms. When I was younger—before I’d been trained as a witch—my family had nearly starved to death after pirates destroyed my father’s business. I knew what it was like to go hungry, and the experience had left me with a particular sympathy for anyone denied food. I didn’t like Cormac taking Magda’s plate. Not when it seemed obvious to me that she was fine, and had only feigned feeling unwell to stop Cormac’s tirade.
I looked at Liam, but he was staring at Brenna. Probably wondering how their father had known so much about what went on here. And if the flush crawling up Brenna’s face was any indication, I think I knew who the leak was.
“Cormac is right,” Talia chimed in. “It’s so awful when an alpha chooses an inferior mate. Bad for the entire pack.” On the last sentence she gave Magda a slow, deliberate look. Then she looked over at Ruth and winked. “Don’t worry, Ruth. The thing about inferior mates is that there’s always a good chance they won’t survive very long. And then the alpha can get himself a proper woman.”
Liam straightened, and a fresh surge of heat rolled off him. Before he could speak, his phone chimed. He took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. Tension seized his shoulders, and without a word, he tilted his phone toward me, showing me the screen.
It was the results of a fingerprint analysis. Blake had matched the prints on the pieces of notebook paper we’d found in Tom’s apartment and on Nate. The ones with the phone number on it.
The prints were Emma’s.
Chapter 12
“What is it?” Cormac straightened in his seat as if he could read the text from across the table if he raised his head high enough.
“Police business.” Liam pushed his chair back and dropped his napkin on the table. “You’ll have to excuse me.”
I grabbed a couple sausages and put them on a napkin as I stood too. My stomach was too tight for food to sound at all appetizing, but I knew better than to assume I’d have time to eat later. And something told me I’d need my strength.
Cormac shoved his plate away and rose from his seat. “If something’s happening, I have a right to know. I have people here—”
“This doesn’t concern you,” Liam interrupted, pausing in front of his father while he waited for me to catch up. “I said this is police business. The only business you have here is your pack and your family. I’m busy, and your pack and the rest of your family are right here.” Liam leaned closer. “So it seems to me, there’s no reason you’d have to leave this room until everyone’s finished their breakfast.”
Something shifted in the air. Something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, made Scath’s eyes glitter with that shine that had nothing to do with the overhead lights. I realized I was holding my breath, watching the two alphas.
“Dad,” Brenna said quietly. “Stay here with me. Please? You said you came here to visit. Let’s visit.”
Cormac didn’t move. Didn’t react. The pulse in his neck beat hard enough I could see it just beneath his skin. Finally, he turned his head, the movement so stiff it looked painful. His eyes met Brenna’s and he wrenched his mouth into what I could only assume he meant to be a smile.
“Of course, pup. I had no intention of going anywhere. How often do I get a chance to have breakfast with my little girl?” His voice chilled. “I simply thought your brother might want to keep me abreast of any threats.”
Liam didn’t respond. As soon as I reached his side, he pivoted toward the door, and Scath and I followed immediately in his wake. I made a mental note to thank Brenna for intervening. Beloved daughter or not, I imagined it took some guts to get between her father and her brother.
Blake met us by the elevator. The jeans he wore showed off just how long his legs were, and the thick flannel he wore made him look even bulkier than he was. I couldn’t help but notice Sonar wasn’t with him. Then I remembered the police dog turned bounty hunter was probably working the trail outside Howard’s.
“When did Vincent say he’d have his report ready?” I asked.
“He didn’t.” Liam stepped into the elevator as soon as the doors opened. “But he’s been working all night, so it shouldn’t be long.”
“Fire destroys everything,” Peasblossom reminded him from her perch on top of my head. “There might not be anything to find.”
“If there is, Vincent will find it.” Liam jabbed the button that would take us to Emma’s floor, the motion somewhat more violent than necessary.
Blake stood behind Liam, his spine so stiff it made me stand straighter just looking at him. It didn’t take a witch to sense Liam was on edge, and Blake seemed determined to be the very spirit of cooperation. Silent cooperation.
“I hope Emma’s had breakfast,” Peasblossom whispered. “You know how cranky werewolves get when they’re hungry.”
Blake glanced at Peasblossom. I felt her shift on top of my head, looking back at Blake.
“You look like you could use a sausage, Blake” Peasblossom said thoughtfully. “I’m sure Shade will share.”
The elevator door pinged and opened, and Liam surged into the hallway, with a perturbed Blake following on his heels, despite a lingering glance at Peasblossom.
“Don’t offer Emma a sausage,” I told her, following after them.
“Why not? She’s going to be cranky, she always is. A sausage might be just the ticket.” She paused. “It’s not like you to be so greedy. You should have eaten more. Or brought more sausages.”
I ignored her as Liam reached Emma’s door and knocked. The door swung open a few seconds later, and Stephen filled the doorway.
“I need to speak with Emma,” Liam said calmly.
Stephen nodded and stepped back, gesturing for us to come in. Emma sat on the couch, a bowl of cinnamon-sweetened oatmeal in her lap. She paused with the spoon halfway to her mouth, then dropped it into the bowl. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes never left Liam’s.
“Emma.” Liam sat down on the couch on the other side of her, his body angled toward hers. “Dustin and another loner from The Rusty Cuffs both had a sheet of paper with a phone number on it. We tested them for prints.”
Emma’s face didn’t change. She stared at Liam as if she were studying a painting on the wall behind him. As if he weren’t even there.
“They were your prints, Emma,” Liam said quietly. “Would I be correct in assuming that phone number belongs to a burner phone? Maybe the phone that Dustin texted you on? Maybe that’s why you couldn’t show us the text messages?”
“I’m not sure how my social life outside New Moon is any of your business.” Emma’s voice was cold, and she still wasn’t meeting Liam’s eyes.
Liam rubbed one hand over his face. “Emma, do you know how dangerous that was? Do you have any idea what some lone wolves would do to you?”
Emma slid off the couch, putting her bowl on the coffee table with a loud thud before getting to her feet. As if she needed to get more height so she could stare Liam down properly. “You can’t control every single detail of my life. I never signed up for that.”
“Emma, I need that phone. Where is it?”
Emma stared at him. Bit by bit, all the emotion drained from her face, leaving her features a blank mask. It was unnerving watching her do it. Watching all that anger just…disappear.
Liam looked at her for a long minute. Finally, he sighed. “Blake, take her to a holding cell.”
Emma didn’t move at first when Blake touched her arm. Didn’t jerk away, but didn’t show any indication she intended to cooperate either. But she only kept that rigidness for a moment, just long enough to make a point. Then she turned her back to Liam, stood there for another long moment. When she finally allowed Blake to lead her from the room, I caught a glimpse of Stephen waiting beside the door. He opened his mouth when Emma passed him, but she jerked her head to the side, refusing to look at him.
