Page 25 of Touch of Evil

“Yup,” I agree. “Whatever killed Ted crushed multiple parts of him, almost evenly and at the same time.”

“What the hell kind of thing can do that?” someone asks.

“And then rip him apart into such small pieces so quickly?” a female adds. She glances around the room. “We were right on top of that thing. It didn’t have time to work Ted up like you say it did. It must have been magic, a curse or something else.”

“No, you would have smelled—.” I stop mid-sentence when I catch the scent of something I shouldn’t catch. I sniff again, just to make sure.

“What is it, alpha?” the cougar asks.

“Do me a favor,” I say to him. “Pour me a glass of water.”

He does and passes me the glass. I take whiff. All the funk from Ted’s place interferes with the aroma of the water. I have to practically shove my nose into the glass to catch a better trace.

Thewereslean in, waiting for me to break down the complexities of my theory in the most eloquent way I can. And I do. “This shit’s fucked up.”

I place the glass down and roll the decapitated knee in my hand, specifically where the bruising is most pronounced. Emme tilts forward, whispering low. “Can you elaborate, please?”

“This is tap water,” I say, motioning to the glass.

Theweresexchange glances. I’m starting to think they’re doubting my brilliance. “We know that, boss,” the weasel says slowly.

Great. Now I’m the one looking like a moron. “If Ted bathed…” I take another gander at the room. “And that’s a mighty big ‘if,’ he would have used tap water.”

“That’s right,” the cougar says.

“And had he gone swimming in the lake or had that creature dragged Ted into the lake, he would smell like freshwater.”

“He wasn’t wet,” the female in the front says. “Only moist from sweat and body fluid.”

“What do you smell, Bren?” Emme asks. She clutches her small purse against her, as if it can somehow protect her from the gore. “Is itwater?”

“Yeah, it is,” I say. “Saltwater.”

The weasel cocks an eyebrow. “We’re a pretty long ways off from any ocean, boss.”

“I know. But it’s what I smell.” I toss him the knee.

He takes it and takes a sniff, then another one, and another one after that. There’s a reason I’m known for my nose. I pick up on more than the averagewere. “He’s right,” the weasel says. “Dang. I wouldn’t have caught it if he hadn’t pointed it out.”

Thewerespass the body part around, all taking their time with it, their gazes lighting up when they catch traces of the ocean.

Emme slips off the stool. “Does this help you identify what it might be?”

“No,” I admit. “It just makes this thing that much messier.”

“How so?” she asks.

“Whatever is out there is a carnivore,” I reply. “All those pieces weren’t just a show of strength. It broke up Ted to eat him.”

“To…eat…him?” Emme asks.

Theweresnod, they get it. Hey, and look at Emme go. She doesn’t puke, no matter how much she looks like she wants to. I pat her back, that’s my girl.

“Y’all. Something’s out there,” I say to the group. “Those with families, stay here and watch your own. Everyone else, split up into groups and start patrolling. Whatever is out there won’t stop with Ted. It’s hungry and still needs to eat.”

Chapter Eight

Bren

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