Page 22 of Grumpy Special Ops Bear: Ep. 1
“Not yet, sir, but we currently have eyes on him and his wolves.”
“Why haven’t you moved in yet? It’s been over a week since I sent you out there.”
I chewed my cheek for a second. I had to be careful how I played this. Not that I didn’t trust General Taggert. I just didn’t want to give away too much information about my kind and how we worked outside the laws of the formal government.
“We’ve run into a bit of a problem. I’m figuring out how best to deal with it.”
For a long minute, there was quiet before General Taggert’s rough voice came back along the communication channel. “Fine, deal with it however you have to, but I want this wrapped up sooner rather than later. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So if you don’t have Price in custody, why did you call?”
“Do you have any new information on Price? Maybe something that would explain a few more things about him?”
“Hmm, let me check,” General Taggert mumbled. I heard some papers being shuffled in the background, and he cleared his throat. “Actually, we do. We finally got permission to search his land in Nebraska, and… Well, let’s just say we found more than we’d bargained for.”
I felt a tightness in my chest. “Meaning what, sir?”
“We dug up a damn graveyard, that’s what. Bodies everywhere, lots of them. There’s no record of a cemetery ever being there and no sign of tombstones. They’re still searching to see how many bodies there actually are. But,” he added, “we heard something interesting from our pathology experts.”
I really hated when he did this—dragged out our conversations instead of just giving me what I needed. It was one of the general’s tactics to get me to let something slip. I always had to be on guard when I talked to the damn man.
“And what’s that?” I asked.
“Using forensic entomology—”
I cut him off. “What is forensic entomology?”
“It’s a new field in the study of forensics that helps examiners determine the time of death by looking at insect activity on a body. Different types and stages of bugs found on or inside a body can help narrow down the time of death.”
“Okay, got it. Continue,” I encouraged him.
“Using forensic entomology—insect activity—my experts determined the kills were a year apart from each other, at least the ones they’ve been able to check out so far. Strange, don’t you think?”
More than just a question was in his tone, but I ignored it. My mind was too busy racing with the realization that this woman was in far more trouble than I’d originally thought. Killing her was one thing, but if the people were killed about one year apart…
Oh fuck no.Is that what Price is doing all the way up here?
“The Hunt,” I hissed aloud.
Centuries ago, the Shifter Council had outlawed the Hunt. They punished any shifter caught taking part in such a barbaric act with death.
According to shifter elders, the Hunt started eons ago as a pack ritual for the right of becoming the second—the alpha was the first—strongest hunter-warrior in the pack. First, the alpha chose a human as prey for the Hunt. Second, the alpha presented the human prey to the pack. Third, the alpha released the human on the night of the full moon and ordered the pack to give chase—the Hunt. The alpha ran down the prey with his pack but gave the honor of killing the human to the pack. The member who killed the human got the privilege of eating their heart under the full moon. They recognized that shifter as the second-strongest hunter-warrior of the pack until the next Hunt.
“What was that?” Taggert asked.
“Nothing, sir. Must have been static. If that’s all, then I’ll be signing off. I need to check with my men.”
I waited for General Taggert to either argue with me or let it go, and thankfully, he was too tired to care or assumed I would fill him in later.
“Fine. But I want a full report when we detain Price.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied. Then I ended the call before the general could ask anything else.
Pacing back and forth, I watched distant clouds roll in over the treetops. It was getting colder. The National Weather Service called for the temperature to drop and maybe even a bit of snow. It wasn’t uncommon this time of year.
The bear in me growled in pleasure at the thought of snowflakes hitting my face, and then he immediately snarled when I recalled my conversation with General Taggert.
