Page 50 of Pack Kasen: Part 1

“They know more about the feral than I do. And I need to know more about her.”

“It or her?” he asks, his expression blank.

I stare at him until he gets the message. Finan isn’t stupid, so it doesn’t take him long.

He opens the door and walks out.

Two minutes later, Wes and Cruz file in to stand in front of my desk. Finan returns to his usual spot when I conduct my meetings, closing the door before he stands beside it.

He tells me he does it in case I need him to get something. I’m convinced it’s to trip me up or block the doorway to stop me from running when I’m sick of my meeting.

I point at the thin black file on my desk I’ve read from cover to cover. “You wrote everything that happened on campus here. I need more.”

“What do you need?” Cruz asks.

“Your perception of her. You saw her going about her business, acting the student.”

They both stare at me like they don’t recognize me.

Because this is new.

I don’t ask for anyone's opinions and thoughts about a feral. I know everything I need to know about them. So, if there’s any mystery, I solve it, then I kill it.

Game over.

Then I move to the next feral.

“None of you are talking,” I say, sitting back in my seat.

“Well…” Wes’s expression is thoughtful as he folds his arms back and rocks a little on his heels. “She seemed normal. Smelled like a shifter, but she seemed like just a normal student. You know?”

I focus on Cruz.

“She studied a lot,” he says. “She didn’t hang around much with other people. I saw her speak with a girl after one of her classes for a couple of minutes. Didn’t seem to have any close friends.”

They’d reported in after checking into a motel as close as they could find to Gregson College, then they spent all the rest of their time on campus, trailing the feral.

Unfortunately, they arrived the same morning cops found another body. I ordered a new satellite for the internet straight away. Finan and Silas installed it, and everything is looking good so far.

Someone died because we were too slow to deal with the feral. I refuse to let it happen again.

Most of the information they’d discovered had been through observation from afar, so she wouldn’t smell them. Other things they’d garnered from hanging around near her dorm room and eavesdropping on conversations from those who also lived in the building.

“What was your impression of her?” I ask Cruz.

He shrugs. “Just seemed like a typical student.”

“Your impression of her as a feral,” I emphasize.

Both stare at me like I’ve lost my mind. I’m starting to wonder if maybe I have.

“Did she give you any reason to think she was not a feral?” I clarify.

What the fuck am I even asking?

The woman in my cage is a feral.

No pack. No history of ever having a pack. Animal-like murders around her.

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