again and able to concentrate on the larger problem.
Her forest had been desecrated.
“Do you think this is the same man?” she asked. “The one who followed me and killed your maid?”
“Who else could it be?” Slowly turning, Ruben glared out into the shadowy woods as though by doing so he could will the offender to step forward and confess.
“We’ll find him,” she said, turning away lest her churning stomach heave. “We have to.” She tried to sound certain.
At her words, his frown deepened. “I confess, I was doubtful. But someone who feels the need to kill for the act of taking a life, will feel this compulsion again. We just need to be near when he does. I would recognize him, I think.”
He would kill again. Somehow, such a rational thought hadn’t occurred to her. “Are my people in danger?” she asked, worried.
“They could be.” His mouth tightened. “Now that he’s killed a human, I don’t think butchering animals will satisfy him any longer.”
She’d wanted to leave the palace before. Venture out in a search for the villain. Now, she wasn’t so sure. “If he’s nearby, then we have no reason to travel to seek him out.”
“Unless he leaves.”
They exchanged glances, the unhappiness in his expression undoubtedly mirrored in hers.
“How will we know?” she asked finally. “I’m sure he won’t be kind enough to give us notice.”
“No.” Grim-faced, he once again surveyed the damage. “The best way to track him is to follow the kills.”
“And hope no other people get hurt,” she said.
As she walked with Ruben back toward the castle, she covertly studied him. She’d always considered herself a good judge of character, able to read most people’s inner psyche with one quick glance. Of course, she acknowledged with a rueful smile, most of the people she met were Brights and pretty darn transparent.
But Ruben was...different.
When she looked at him, his aura seemed cloudy, as though enveloped in a cloak of fog. Sometimes she saw his wolf more sharply than he, though the wolf hadn’t yet manifested in corporeal form.
She put this down to the fact that he was a Shape-shifter. The only one she knew.
“What is it?” Ruben asked, startling her. Apparently, lost in thought, she’d been staring for far too long.
Deciding to be honest, she told him what she’d seen. The notion that his inner wolf had manifested in his aura clearly stunned him.
“You mentioned that before and I’m still trying to process that. Can everyone here see it?” he demanded. “Or is that one of your special skills?”
She didn’t want to remind him again that she had no special skills. “I’m not sure. I’m thinking it might be due to my peculiar affinity with animals.”
The tension in the set of his jaw relaxed somewhat. “Good. I’d rather not field a bunch of pointless questions.”
That she could understand. “I think we need to come up with a way to make the killer reveal himself.”
“But how? We know nothing about him other than his physical appearance. All we have is the fact that I’ve seen his face.”
Which meant they had to hope Ruben saw his face again. Otherwise, they could prove nothing.
* * *
Sickened and disgusted by the wasteful carnage he’d witnessed, Ruben needed to change the subject. Something else, anything else, to distract him from thoughts of the horrible scene.
He grabbed her hand. “Tell me about your land,” he asked Willow. “You mentioned SouthWard, which is here, and EastWard. What about the other directions, North and West?”
“We, those of us who are SouthWard and EastWard, are the Brights. Your human legend calls us the Seelies. We are supposedly all good and wonderful and shoot rainbows out our—” She stopped, apparently horrified at what she’d almost revealed.
“Anyway,” she continued in a much quieter voice. “Those of the NorthWard and WestWard are known as the Shadows, or the Unseelies. They are dark, both in nature and appearance. They are considered evil and dangerous. You’d do best to avoid them whenever possible.”
He regarded her curiously. “And which are you, Willow? Because you don’t resemble—”
“I know,” she interrupted him, her expression resolute. “As I mentioned earlier, rumor and gossip have it that my mother, Queen Millicent, once had an affair with a NorthWard man. I am the result,” she gestured with her free hand. “Which explains so many things, my appearance of course, and the loss of magical abilities. Light cancels out dark.”
He studied her, suddenly understanding. “This also means—”
Again she cut him off, as though she’d heard the words too