Corb and Alan were cousins, which apparently allowed Corb to see his ghost. I don’t think anything could have slowed him down faster than realizing he was pulling an Alan on me—making a decision that was not his to make, even if his heart was in the right place. He lowered his head on the steering wheel.
“Jesus. I’m sorry, Bree. I was just trying to help . . . honestly, I didn’t think . . .”
I put a hand on his shoulder and felt him tense and then slowly relax under my palm as I gave him a gentle squeeze. “Look, I know it’s coming from a good place. I get that. I do. You saved my life. All of you did.” I swept a look at everyone in the car, including Alan , which seemed to surprise him almost as much as it did me.
“But there is something bigger going on in Savannah. Roderick said so. We can’t just let that slide, we—no, not we, I—have to find out who killed Gran and why. Why is NOLA so important to all this? What connections are we missing? My parents, Gran, and Alan were all killed there in the same fashion. Which brings up another point. If Alan was killed in NOLA, why didn’t the Savannah PD hand me over to their police force? Everything is pointing me toward NOLA, and so there I will go. Carefully, of course. Very carefully. And if y’all don’t want to come with, I do understand. But I have to go. For Gran.”
“I don’t have a choice,” Alan grumbled, then rubbed at his mostly bald head, which made his remaining hair stand in weird directions. Not a good look, but I kept that thought to myself.
I pointed a finger at him. “Believe you me, first chance we get, we are going to un-attach you from me. Again. Then you can move on, and so can I.”
“But not with him,” Alan tipped his chin toward Corb.
I didn’t answer that shot from him.
Sarge sat up, his body sliding from wolf to man in a breath. Naked, hunky, well-muscled man. I looked across the back seat and grinned. “Nice of you to join us.”
He covered his jewels, which took both of his hands, and gave me a smile, albeit a small twist on his lips. “This is not for the ladies. Besides, you can’t handle the two men you have.”
Kinkly sighed. “Oh, but it’s so fun trying to handle multiple men. I did it once, had four going at the same time. So. Much. Fun.”
I shook my head as Feish opened her mouth, no doubt to derail the conversation further and ask just how many cats she would need for four men. “Focus, team. Focus. We are going to NOLA to find my gran and figure out what’s going on while we are there. Or at least, I am. You in or not?”
Sarge nodded. “I like NOLA, haven’t been in a while. I can be your guide dog. Least I can do.”
I sighed. He’d tried to kill me while under the magical thrall of a powerful pair of mages, and he still felt bad. No point in arguing with him. He’d just tell me it was an honor thing. Besides, I needed all the help I could get.
“Okay, Sarge is in. I know Robert is in.” I put my hand on my hip bag, and one of my fingers came away smeared with something red, tacky, and mostly dry. I took a beat, grabbed the edge of the bag and flipped it open, then reached into its magically expanded interior for a small container of disinfectant wipes.
I used the wipes to get Alan’s blood off my bag, doing my best not to think about it too much. “Corb, Kink? What about you two?”
“Of course, I’m in!” Kinkly flew around my head. “There are some sexy as sin fae men in NOLA, so let’s get our drink on and throw out some beads!”
Feish tipped her head. “What do beads have to do with catching men? If it’s like fishing, I could find great success in this place.”
I wasn’t going to encourage that line of thought. I needed focus from my team—
“Oh yeah,” Sarge said. “I could use a hurricane or three. And I’d put beads on a few guys.”
I was pretty sure he meant the drink and not the natural disaster, but my oh-crap meter went off. “Don’t say that out loud—about