watched the flitting expressions on her face. She seemed as keen to avoid Lucy as she was to avoid me. At least I didn’t feel singled out, I supposed. It’d be nice if she offered to fix a plate for me too though. I smirked at the thought then made a decision and stood up, joining the pair of them.
‘Lucy,’ I asked, ‘can you go and check on the status of the mage’s arrival?’
She nodded dutifully and scampered off. I kept my attention on Mack, however. Her eyes were frantically searching for a way out. I grabbed a grape and popped it into my mouth while she straightened her back and faced me, apparently giving up on the notion of escape. I took in her features. She reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on who. I’d certainly never come across anyone who seemed to be trying to hide herself so much, anyway. Rather than continue to pepper her with questions she’d merely evade again, I stayed quiet. The silence lengthened out and I wondered whether she’d attempt to say anything or if she’d stare mutely at me with her wide, oddly coloured eyes until I made a move first. I was, at heart, a cat though. I could be very patient.
‘It’s fortunate the rain held off,’ she finally commented.
I tried not to laugh. As conversation starters went, it was hardly Shakespeare. I was simply enjoying the look on her face though. She seemed annoyed with herself. It was kind of cute.
‘I mean, then you’ll be able to find the trail of whatever killed John without the scent being washed away,’ she explained.
I leaned towards her, almost regretting the move when panic filled her eyes. Deciding to help her out, I finally spoke. ‘Were you there?’
‘Uh, where?’
‘At the beach. When his body was discovered.’ Thanks to Anton, I already knew the answer, of course, but I felt the need to convey to her that I was genuinely sorry for her loss without making it seem I’d been asking around about her. I also wanted her to stay and talk to me.
‘Ummm…’
She looked as if she were debating internally whether to answer or to turn tail and run. I opened my mouth to offer my heartfelt condolences and encourage her to stop squirming but I was interrupted by a loud crash. I spun round, muscles tensing and ready to shift if need be, but it was merely Betsy, surrounded by fragments of white china.
‘Oh, I’m so clumsy!’ she laughed. ‘It’s just you made me nervous standing there. I had no idea that the Brethren were so powerful in person, and you the Lord Alpha as well. Just what is your name?’
Mack took the opportunity to hastily walk away. I did my best not to look too irritated and smiled at her friend, even though I had the sudden distinct feeling that she’d dropped the plate deliberately.
‘Corrigan,’ I told her.
‘It’s great to meet you,’ she breathed. ‘Can I fix you a plate of food from the buffet?’
Chapter Eight
I stood on top of the dune, staring back at the ring of trees. Seven trees and seven runes, a different one etched deep into the bark.
‘They’re not Fae,’ I muttered to myself. ‘No shifter could have done these either. The magic reeking from them is simply too strong. Our culprit is a far different beast altogether.’
‘You did the right thing by getting a mage to join us, my Lord,’ Staines said, joining me. ‘This is beyond our ken.’
I balled up my fists. ‘What does this? What has magic to draw upon at will and the strength to eviscerate a powerful alpha?’
He shook his head. ‘I have no idea.’
‘We’d better get a damn idea quickly. I won’t allow this to happen again.’ I was aware of how silly my words sounded out loud but I meant every damn one. I was supposed to protect my shifters, not leave them vulnerable to attack from some mysterious Otherworlder on a power trip. ‘We’ve been here almost two days and there’s still nothing. I can’t believe this is over. Whatever did this is going to come back. It’s going to do it again.’
‘We’re only meant to be here for another day,’ Staines pointed out. ‘I think we’ll outstay our welcome if we hang around for too long.’
‘I don’t care. What happened to John was premeditated. Until we catch it, we’re staying.’
He bowed his head. ‘My Lord.’
I kicked, frustrated, at the sand, sending up a