Before Scath could answer, the door in question sprang open and Jackal stumbled out. Talia clung to him like creeping ivy, her arms and legs anchored around him to keep their lower bodies in firm, constant contact. Jackal’s eyes fluttered closed as she fixed her mouth on his neck, and he stumbled until his back hit the wall. His hands—completely superfluous to keeping Talia in place—flexed in midair, as if he didn’t know what to do with them.

  “Should we help him?” Peasblossom asked doubtfully.

  Talia snarled at us over his shoulder. “Mind your own business.”

  Jackal blinked the hazy look out of his eyes, then settled his hands on Talia’s hips. The sleeveless black shirt he was wearing gave me a good look at the way his muscles flexed under his skin, betraying the effort it took to push the female werewolf off of him before lowering her to the floor. Talia scowled, the look she shot our way just shy of murderous. The large man rolled his shoulders and tugged on the hem of his shirt, studiously avoiding looking at anyone but Talia. He dragged one hand across his mouth and shot a leering look Talia’s way, but the expression lacked any true lasciviousness. Scath watched with unabashed interest as he seemed to gather his nerve, shooting me a half-hearted wink, then walking away without a word.

  I tilted my head as I watched him walk away. Jackal had clearly chosen to hide his true personality behind a mask I was fairly certain he meant to be roguish. But he didn’t have the attitude to pull it off. He was in pain. And anyone looking could see it.

  “Gave up on Cormac, then?” Scath asked.

  Talia snorted, shooting Jackal one last disgusted look before turning to face our group. “Hardly. But he’s still stubbornly clinging to that wet blanket, Magda, and a girl has needs.”

  Something of my thoughts must have shown on my face, because she crossed her arms and sneered at me. “What? Does the prudish witch have something to say?”

  “Just wondering what it will do to your chances of getting Cormac into bed when he smells Jackal all over you,” I said, opting for honesty since in this case it was just as insulting as anything I could come up with.

  Talia rolled her eyes. “Cormac doesn’t care who sleeps with who. I could be with the whole pack, and it wouldn’t make a difference.”

  “I suppose it’s true that your chances of getting into Cormac’s bed are completely unaffected by anything you do with Jackal,” Scath said sweetly.

  I arched an eyebrow. Scath was being catty. There was a joke there somewhere.

  Talia took a step toward Scath. The feline sidhe kept her body loose as she settled her weight evenly on both feet, ready to leap.

  I frowned. We didn’t have time for this.

  I called my magic. Most of the time, my magic stayed inside me, controlled and contained, waiting to be focused into whatever spell I needed. But it was also possible for me to let it seep out, let it breathe around me like a shifter’s aura, a field of energy that those sensitive to such things could feel. I drew in a deep slow breath, letting my power expand, pushing it outward.

  Both women froze, and I could practically see their fur rising to stand on end. I stared Talia down, fixing a witchy look on my face, letting her see how little I thought of her attitude. And her insults.

  “We’re busy, Talia,” I said, letting my power echo in my voice. “We don’t have time to play. So if you’ll excuse us…”

  I took a step forward, dragging all the energy I’d raised with me like my own personal storm. Talia took a step back without meaning to, her eyes narrowing as soon as she realized she’d done it. I watched the conflict play out over her face, the determination not to back down warring with the instinct screaming at her that poking a witch with her magic up and ready was not how strong young shifters lived to be strong old shifters.

  “I’m bored,” she said, managing to keep her voice even. “Go ahead and scamper away to find some clue that will save your little wolf. I’ll be here when you fail.” She turned her back on me, the move a deliberate risk. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and when Cormac takes over New Moon, he’ll let me punish Emma myself.”

  I pushed more magic into the cloud around me. Just a little.

  Just enough to give her a small static-like shock to her backside.

  Talia jumped, muscles tensing, ready to spin around. But she steeled herself, kept walking.

  Not so out of control after all.

  “I enjoyed that,” Scath said, sounding pleased.

  “So did I,” I admitted. “I hate bullies.”

  “One shudders to imagine her as queen,” Peasblossom said.

  I resumed the trek toward Brenna’s office, shaking my head. “Liam says it will never happen.”

  “Maybe not with Cormac,” Scath mused. “But Talia’s desire to be queen seems to stand alone from who is king.”

  Peasblossom flopped down on my shoulder, still holding the lock of my hair. “You think she’s trying to talk Jackal into taking on Cormac?”

  “Jackal could take him. He should take him.”

  I shook my head. If Talia wanted to play kingmaker, then let her. Goddess only knew Jackal had my blessing, if it came to a coup.

  Brenna’s office was empty, so I took a seat on the couch that sat against the far wall. Scath looked around the office, assessing the possibilities, and then crossed the room to sprawl out on the chaise closer to the desk. Almost as soon as she’d laid down, she tensed, tilting her head toward the door.

  “They’re here,” she said softly.

  A few seconds later, Magda appeared in the doorway. Her brows furrowed when she saw Scath, her nostrils flaring. Her eyes widened a little as she realized the human woman before her was the large black feline she’d seen before. Then her gaze traveled to the other side of the room. Tension seized her body when she saw me, and she took a step back, bumping into Brenna who was right behind her.

  “It’s okay,” Brenna said gently. “She just wants to talk to you.”

  I patted the couch beside me. “You’re not in trouble. Brenna’s right, I just want to talk. You might be able to help me.”

  Magda looked uncertain, but she allowed Brenna to guide her to the couch. Brenna gave her an encouraging smile, and then went to the cabinet beside the desk. I did my best to look non-threatening as Brenna made tea and brought it to the table.

  Magda’s eyes still showed too much white, and her hands trembled as she held her cup of tea, resulting in a steady background of rattling ceramic that only served to underline the tension in the room. Brenna sat in the chair beside the couch, offering Magda a reassuring smile as she brushed a lock of her brown hair behind her ear.

  “You’re not in trouble, Magda.” She smoothed her hands over the notebook in her lap, one hand toying with the pen still tucked in the spiral. “We just want to ask you some questions.”

  “Cormac won’t like it.” Magda stared down at her teacup and lifted it a little higher to keep it from vibrating against the saucer. “He won’t like that I left the room.”

  I tamped down a sudden surge in temper. So help me, Goddess, I was going to have a word with that man before he left. There had to be some politically delicate way for me to tell him what happened to bad men who abused their wives.

  “Cormac is speaking with Liam right now.” I lifted my own cup of tea, breathing in the relaxing citrus fragrance of Earl Grey. “There’s no reason he needs to know we had this little chat.”

  “He’ll know.” Magda took a quick sip of her tea, then lowered the cup to the saucer too fast, clinking the china together in a sharp crack. “He always knows.”

  “Then Liam will make it clear that you didn’t have a choice,” Brenna said firmly.

  The corner of Magda’s mouth twitched, a hint of a smile. “Liam. He’s such a good boy. He tries so hard. Yes, all right. I suppose if anyone can…temper your father it’s Liam.”

  I took out my phone and showed Magda a picture of Nate that Liam had gotten from the DMV database. Or rather, a picture of Daryl Cartwright. “Do you recognize this man?”

  Magda raised her teacup so quickly she nearly spilled it before she got it to her lips. She took a long sip, her eyes looking into her tea with unnecessary concentration. When she lowered the cup, her hands were no longer shaking and she attempted what I guessed she hoped was a casual smile.

  “I do. His name is Daryl. He was a member of our pack until…until he was killed in a hunting accident.” She took another sip of tea. “They’re more common around where we live. Hunting accidents, I mean. Lots of woods there, and it’s easy to feel like there’s no one else in the world. Like you’re alone and you can get away with anything. Lots of guns too. It’s a safety measure, mostly, but—”

  “Magda.” Brenna set her cup of tea on the table between her chair and the couch. “You’re not in trouble. Take a deep breath. What can you tell us about Daryl?”

  Magda put her teacup on its saucer, then picked it up again and took another sip. She opened her mouth, then shut it. Another sip. Another loud clink of her cup against the saucer. More sips.

  I was developing a twitch in my eye before she finally drained the cup and put it beside Brenna’s on the table. Peasblossom’s wings buzzed as her patience began to fray too, and she’d just taken a breath to speak when Magda finally let out a bone-deep sigh.

  “He was seeing Danielle. They were dating.” She smoothed her hand down her skirt, toying with the green linen as if she couldn’t get it to lay right. “Cormac didn’t approve.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  Magda looked down at her cup and Brenna reached for the teapot to pour her some more, sending a steady stream of hot water over one of Ruth’s specially crafted tea bags. Magda’s shoulders slumped briefly in gratitude, then she reached for the sugar cubes. “Danielle was already…challenging. She talked back to Cormac all the time. And then there was the drug use…” She paused to drop four sugar cubes into her tea. “She was in no place to form a healthy relationship. And Daryl…”

  She put the sugar tongs down and turned to look at me. “If you want the truth, I think Cormac was afraid Danielle would be a bad influence on Daryl. Cormac could be like that, you know. If someone was…prone to misbehavior, he’d control who they interacted with. He liked to stop the spread, so to speak. It was one thing for Danielle—a drug addict—to talk back to him. Bad enough. But he didn’t want her ‘insolence’ to give Daryl ideas.”

  “Or encourage him to get ideas above his station,” Peasblossom guessed.

  Magda winced, but didn’t answer.

  I put my teacup on the table next to Magda’s. “I’m guessing Danielle didn’t take his suggestion to stay away from Daryl to heart?”

  “She did not.” Magda added milk to her tea and stirred it, frowning down at the pale brown liquid. “If you want the truth, I think it made her more determined to have a relationship with him. What might have been a passing infatuation became a ferocious obsession. And Daryl was no better. He fell for Danielle, and he fell hard. It…didn’t go well for him.”

  Brenna leaned back in her chair, tension pulling the skin tight around her eyes. “What happened?” The tone in her voice made the words sound more like “What did my father do?”

  “He beat Daryl,” Magda whispered. “Badly. Told him if he caught him with Danielle again, he’d kill him.”

  Now Magda couldn’t sit still. She took sips of her tea, so frequently and so fast that in seconds it was empty again.

  “Magda,” I said, using the witchy voice I used for children whose attention had strayed from the task at hand. “Daryl obviously didn’t die in that hunting accident. I know you’re the one who identified the body.”

  Magda dropped her teacup, the empty cup and saucer bouncing off the carpet at her feet, somehow miraculously avoiding a collision with one another. “I didn’t want to. I told them it was a terrible idea. If Cormac finds out—” Her eyes flew open and she seized my hands in hers, her grip so tight I winced. “Please. Please, he can’t find out. He can’t know Daryl is alive.”

  “Tell me what happened,” I said calmly.

  Magda tightened her grip on my hands, reminding me that despite her submissiveness, she was still a shifter. “Cormac left for a conference, and Danielle and Daryl came to me. They wanted to run away together. Cormac would have hunted them down—he takes desertion very personally. So they planned to fake Daryl’s death. And then a few months later, Danielle would fake a suicide, ostensibly in grief over Daryl’s death. I told them no, I said I wouldn’t help. Cormac would have found out, I know he would have. But even after I told them no, they went ahead with it anyway.”

  She took a deep breath. “Cormac is listed as next of kin for every member in the pack. I’m the secondary. Since Cormac was out of town, they called me to identify the body. When I got there, I could tell it wasn’t Daryl. But Danielle was there, she’d already said it was him. I couldn’t tell them she was lying. I had no idea who it was, but I said it was Daryl. By the time Cormac came home, the body was cremated and the ashes scattered in the forest.”

  “Whose body was it?” I asked.

  “A hunter,” Magda mumbled. “He’d taken a few shots at our pack before. I hadn’t thought he knew what we were, but there was silver shot in his gun, so he must have.”

  I suspected Danielle and Daryl might have had more to do with the silver shot than the dead hunter, but there was no point in going over that now. That would be a second murder investigation to look into after this one.

  “And Dad couldn’t tell you were lying?” Brenna asked.

  Magda shrugged. “He says I always smell like fear. I guess he can’t tell the difference between general fear of him and fear that he’ll know I’m lying.”

  “Daryl’s fake death was two years ago,” I pointed out. “Obviously Danielle didn’t go ahead with her planned fake suicide. What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” Magda said. “She must have changed her mind.”

  “Maybe,” I said, half to myself. I stood and turned to the door. “We’ll have to ask her.”

  “Please let me go back to my room,” Magda begged. “Cormac could be finished with Liam any second.”

  Suddenly the door to the office flew open, slamming against the wall with enough force to rattle the thick wood. Cormac appeared in the doorway, his dark blue eyes clouded with fury, his jaw so tight I was surprised his teeth didn’t crack. “You,” he growled, taking a step toward Magda. “You lied to me.”

  Chapter 19

  Magda’s legs gave out from under her. Brenna caught her before she hit the floor, holding the trembling woman in her arms and fixing her father with a warning look.

  “Dad, calm down.”

  “Don’t you dare give me orders.” Cormac flexed his hands, his fingertips darkening as the claws of his wolf form threatened to tear free. “She is my wife, and she will answer to me for this betrayal.” His gaze landed on the photograph in my hand, and his eyes brightened to gold. “Where is he?”

  Instinct screamed at me to get out of the way as he surged forward with clear intent to snatch the photograph out of my hand. But a stronger part of me wanted an excuse to magically slap him, to give him a little taste of the pain he was so ready to inflict on others. So I called my magic, held it ready as I waited for him to do something, anything, to justify letting it go. Something flashy and painful, I thought idly.

  Cormac wasn’t as dense as he looked. He read my body language clearly enough that he stopped a few inches short of invading my personal space, his hands flexing at his sides, his eyes fixed so solidly on mine that if he’d had an ounce of magical aptitude he’d have set me on fire.

  “I’m afraid this matter doesn’t concern you,” I said calmly. “If it did, you’d have been included in this meeting.”

  A quick flick of his eyes to his daughter confirmed Cormac wasn’t a fool. He wasn’t going to do anything extreme, wasn’t going to hurt me with his daughter standing right there. Not when he was trying so hard to thread the needle between berating his son’s performance as alpha while still holding onto Brenna’s goodwill. He was stuck. And like most abusers, his immediate response was to turn to someone weaker. Someone he could punish for his humiliation until he felt in control again.

  Magda.

  Cormac’s jaw tightened and he turned to Magda. “Get back to our room. Now.”

  Magda tried to get her legs under her, but she was shaking too badly to stand. Tears streamed down her face, and Brenna held her closer. “She’s in no condition to go anywhere.”

  “She’s fine.” Cormac took a step toward Magda. “And she’s coming with me. Now.”

  I didn’t even think about it first. My magic was already so close to the surface, already prepped to attack in case Cormac tried something. It took just a flex of my will to change the spell, a thought to make it what I needed. As soon as Cormac’s hand closed around Magda’s wrist, I let the spell loose, concentrating on one word without speaking it.

  Infirmum.

  Purple energy spiraled outward, striking Magda, hard. Her eyes flew open wide along with her mouth as she vomited onto the floor, barely missing Cormac’s feet. The alpha jerked back, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

  I had no idea if Brenna knew I was responsible for Magda’s sudden nausea, but she knew an opportunity when she saw it. “Let’s get you to the infirmary, Magda, and have them take a look at you” she said briskly, pulling her away from Cormac.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Magda moaned, putting a hand over her stomach. “I felt fine just a second ago.”

  “She doesn’t need to go to the infirmary,” Cormac snarled. “Take her to our room.”

  “No,” Brenna said not bothering to look at her father. “She’s clearly sick. And we need to consider our other patients too. She’ll be quarantined in the infirmary until we figure out what made her sick.” She pulled out her cell phone with her free hand.

  “What are you doing?” Cormac demanded.

  “Texting Liam. I’m sure he’ll want to know Magda isn’t feeling well. And he is the head of the center, so if I quarantine her, I need to let him know.”

 

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