Page 44 of Werewolves Don't Howl
“Interesting. Let’s go out for dinner. How does sushi sound?”
I winced. “Expensive. Also, I’m not sure if I can keep anything down. Also, it will make me smell like a werewolf.”
“Perfect. I know just the place.”
The drive to the restaurant was quiet, which was good, because I was trying to organize the facts in my head, but they kept unwinding into an image of Loren’s face in that body bag. Was it a warning? A threat? Or was someone just really looking forward to seeing me have hysterics?
“You’re thinking too much,” he said, taking my hand and squeezing it.
I stared at his large hand, beautiful elegant fingers tapering perfectly, curled around mine. He was getting better at holding hands. “What do you suggest that I do instead?”
For a moment I stared at him, and he studied me, the evil elf that I’d snuggled of my own free will only a few minutes before. What would it be like to kiss him? I’d forget about everything. I’d drown in him and never recover. If he offered, I might take him up on it.
He released me, grabbed a box on the floor, and handed it over.
Oh. Right. Kissing him was completely off the table. What was wrong with me? I hated him, didn’t I? Yes. But I also liked hiding in his arms. He was right. I needed hugs. Maybe I should find a nice werewolf to mate with so I could snuggle all the time.
I unfastened the ribbon and lifted the lid to find a pretty pale purple yarn and a pair of knitting needles. “It’s your eyes.”
“You were going to exploit me, yes? What better way than in a fluffy sweater? It’s cashmere,” he added, like I wouldn’t know.
I knew. It seemed like the only thing I knew, but cashmere and I went way back. I pulled out the needles tucked underneath the yarn and started with a slipknot. After a few rows, my mind settled, and I was able to breathe normally for the first time since I’d seen Loren.
He pulled out his phone and started taking notes, sending messages to people, and in general, not focusing on me like I was a bomb he needed to detonate. Of course, he could detonate bombs and people. He was the head of the House of Mercy. He could do anything.
“Do you understand why this is happening?” I finally asked, still focused on my knitting. As the head of the secret assassin’s guild, he should understand something. I’d take any crumbs of sanity he could give me.
“I have guesses.”
“Well? Why would someone put Loren’s glamour on a missing girl’s body? Is it a clue from a psycho killer, like she’s next and I have to find her before he kills her? Why would someone target me? Or are you the target and I’m just a lucky bystander? Cross, please tell me something before I go insane!”
He cleared his throat. “I have been hunting this monster for many years. I actually thought that you might be the beast, but it was only the first time, wasn’t it?”
I looked up from my pretty purple cashmere. “First time?”
He gave me a slight smile. “The rabid wolf who was collecting females to turn, to mate to his pack, and expand his empire. That was you, yes? You did it very well, picking off one member at a time until you ended him and saved all the women he’d collected. And then you disappeared. It was only a few months later that I heard whispers of another beast, a true monster who hunted wicked wolves. I thought it was you as well.”
I shivered. “You know about my experiment with vengeance?”
“Vengeance? You were saving helpless women. Although after that it was debatable whether the beast destroyed more than it saved. There was a lot of blood in those earlier cases, sometimes innocent blood getting mixed up in the slaughter.”
I winced at the idea of carelessly spilling innocent blood. I still felt sick enough about killing the monsters who wanted to enslave females to build a werewolf army. “That wasn’t me.”
“I know. Your claws aren’t large enough. I wasn’t sure until that night when I measured them. I didn’t think it was you, but I couldn’t be sure. Pity I didn’t think to measure your claws when I had you in my cage.”
I snorted a laugh. “Yes, pity. Perhaps you had other things on your mind. Wait, all this time, for fifteen years, you thought I was out there killing people? But you’re an assassin who kills monsters. That’s your house specialty, right?”
He smiled slightly. “You are very well-informed. Yes, but I made an exception for you.”
I frowned, because that sounded personal, like he cared. I wasn’t going to entertain such a nonsensical notion for a second. “When did the beast start working with Lynx? What’s the tie? Who is the beast?”
He cleared his throat. “Lynx first came up on my radar when it was linked to a series of terminally ill patients who disappeared. It was suggested that they may have used those patients for experiments. What else would a science guild do with people who were going to die, anyway? It’s almost ethical to give them experimental treatment that no one who wasn’t at risk would take. Other than that one whisper of suspicion, I’ve heard nothing of Lynx.”
“You think that maybe Lynx had something to do with the beast? Maybe it’s one of those terminally ill patients?”
He smiled and leaned back, visibly relaxing. “I like the way your mind compiles data. The beast is larger than a war-beast such as the Alta. You’re terrifyingly huge, but you’re still petite compared to the beast. I had the fortune of getting up close and personal with the beast the night you stumbled in on me in my kitchen, and there wasn’t anything natural about it.”
“And a secret science guild may have something to do with its unnatural size? You think they did experiments on the beast?”
