Deceived By the Others - By Jess Haines Page 0,56

from the biohazardous mold farm accruing on the upside-down pizza slice on the table, the place was empty of occupants.

“Christ, what died in there?” someone behind me complained.

Disgust plain, Chaz poked at some of the clothes until he found a shirt that wasn’t too offensively dirty, picking it up gingerly between two fingers. He took it outside to get a whiff without the god-awful stench of the rest of the room interfering. I didn’t follow. Instead, I glanced around the place for any clues.

This was clearly a hangout for some nerds who were far less tidy than Arnold, the only geek I knew. The place was too lived in to be a temporary vacation spot. The addition of the TV and gaming equipment, as well as the state of the place, meant that whoever Howard Thomas was, he and his friends spent a lot of time here.

All the dresser drawers were open. There was no clothing left inside, so they must have known we were coming and left in a hurry. With all the other stuff here, no doubt they were planning to come back.

While scanning the wreckage, my eyes lit upon something that made me shout a curse. Chaz, along with a couple other Weres, rushed back inside, tense and ready to face any threat.

“Damn it!” I stalked over to the tall dresser. I hadn’t noticed at first with all the other stuff on top of it, but the missing battery to Arnold’s laptop was sitting in a puddle of spilled soda. A few drops got on my shirt when I picked it up and shook it off. Resignedly, I wiped the rest of it off on the shirt, praying that it wasn’t damaged. Arnold would kill me if it was. Or make me pay for a new one, at any rate.

Chaz shook his head and relaxed, giving me a faux-angry look for scaring him. I was too pissed to muster up more than a weak, sheepish grin. Some of the other Weres eased up from their battle-ready stances, fists unclenching and luminescence dying out of their eyes.

After a few more moments taken to skim the contents of the room, finding nothing, we hustled outside—only to be faced by an angry Mr. Cassidy shouldering his way through the crowd. George wasn’t far behind, hefting a heavy wrench to his shoulder as he followed Mr. Cassidy. They halted a few feet away from us, the old man’s leathery skin reddening under his tan.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded. “You’ll pay for that damage, sonny, or I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Explain to the cops how you’re involved in an attempted murder plot?” Chaz snarled, stalking forward. George’s eyes widened, but Mr. Cassidy didn’t bat a lash, holding his ground as Chaz advanced. “We know you have something to do with what’s been happening around here.”

“Even if I did, there isn’t a cop within a hundred miles who would care about it. You’re in my town, boy, and you play by my rules while you’re here.”

Chaz flexed his fingers. I was alarmed to notice they were now tipped with claws; I’d never seen him do a partial shift like that before. It was usually all or nothing.

His voice rumbled deep in his chest, but he turned away from the old man, pulling me close as he stalked off back in the direction of our cabin. The other Sunstrikers followed, leaving plenty of room between themselves and the two men. “If I find any proof you’re hiding whoever shot that arrow, the Sunstrikers will raze this place to the ground.”

“I haven’t broken the laws of homestead, boy, and you’d best remember that. You make the first move, you’ll be hard hunted by more than my clan.”

Chaz didn’t bother to reply, instead leaning in to brush his cheek against my own, whispering a few quiet words. “He’s going to try something. I need to find these people before sundown. Stay with Dillon and Nick; they’ll protect you.”

“What about you? What law was he talking about?” I whispered back, both furious and relieved that he would leave me out of this hunt.

“Don’t worry. I’ll have the rest of the pack to back me up. Simon isn’t my enforcer for nothing.”

“And the law,” I persisted, too agitated to let it go. “What about that?”

“It’s nothing. The laws of homestead are something the Others in New York and a few other states stick to so we can avoid any big confrontations that might draw human attention. We

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