The Real Werewives of Vampire County - By Alexandra Ivy Page 0,38

words weren’t exactly in my nature. Not that the Alpha would want to hear them anyway.

He gave me a long look, the candles flickering shadows over his burly features. “She was murdered.”

Now that surprised me. If Sunshine had been willing to chip a nail, she could have gone up against any were. Unless she’d come face-to-fang with her vampire husband.

“How did it happen?” I asked.

“Crushed to death.”

Ouch.

Finnegan tugged on his beard. “We’ve kept it out of the papers. The pack won’t know until we get justice.” He stood behind the visibly shaking man. “It happened yesterday afternoon.”

That ruled out a vampire, at least directly.

“This is our witness,” Finnegan continued. “His name is Marcos.”

I studied the man, glad to be back in familiar territory. “Let me guess. He’s not talking.” We’d change that.

Poor sap.

I tilted my head, my boots grinding grave dirt into the stones as I approached. “What did you see, friend?”

The man shook his head, a thin sheen of sweat slicking his forehead. “N-nothing. I was trimming the hedges.”

“Her hedges?”

“The hedges! I heard a loud noise. I ran. Upstairs.” His eyes darted away. “That’s where I found her.” His lower lip trembled. “Under her bathroom chandelier.”

I resisted the urge to ponder the idea of a chandelier in the bathroom. I swallowed hard, locking eyes with the man in the chair as I unleashed a magnetic power from low in my chest. “What did you hear?” I felt the buzzing in my head, the dry tightness in the back of my throat. Marcos and I were connected, as if by a thin wire.

“A woman’s voice,” he said, clearly surprised to hear the words come out of his mouth. “I could barely understand her. She said that Sunny deserved what she got. And then she got even angrier. She said, ‘and I hate your lawn.’ ”

Finnegan rushed to the bound man’s side. “Who was it? Did you see her?”

My mind reeled as if he’d smacked me upside the head.

“Finnegan.” I cringed. He knew better.

He halted, but he didn’t apologize. Being an Alpha meant never saying you were sorry.

Head clanging, I asked the question. “Did you see who was in the bathroom?”

“No.” He winced. “I was tied to the bed.”

“Of course you were,” I said, throwing up a warning finger at my leader. If he jarred my mind again, I was going to lose our witness. And because Finnegan knew the stakes, I got away with it.

I turned back to the gardener. “How often did you have sex with the victim?”

“Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Whenever I worked.”

“Son of a bitch!” Finnegan swore behind me.

“Did her husband find out about your sex-capades?” I asked.

Vampires tended to be intensely sexual, and not particularly good at sharing. Then again, if the husband knew, he probably would have just eaten poor Marcos.

The gardener trembled, his eyes wild. “Her husband was too busy with his own mistress.”

“Who was?” I prodded deeper.

He was sweating heavily. “Sunny wasn’t sure,” he said on an exhale. “She only knew it was one of the other Predators.”

My head was pounding now, but I had to hold on. “Who are the Predators?

“Five shifters.” He caught himself. “Well, now there are four: Francine, Nina, Bliss and their whipping girl, Tia.”

“Gotcha.” I glanced up at Finnegan. “We’ll start there.”

My vision swam and I felt my hold loosening. I broke our contact. “I’m done.”

My record was five minutes. This? Well, this was the best I could do tonight. My head throbbed. It would only get worse. Tapping minds gave me a hangover like I’d downed a fifth of SoCo. Not that I’d ever voluntarily do that to myself.

“Nice work.”

Shaking, I folded my hands behind my back and lowered my chin to the Alpha.

“Very nice indeed,” said a man’s voice, smooth as glass.

I whipped a dagger out of the back of my pants as a vampire emerged from the shadows behind me.

Panic shot through me. Why hadn’t I smelled him? Why hadn’t I seen him? My blood ran hot.

Finnegan must have blocked him from me. I didn’t understand.

He was taller than I would have liked. Leaner. His shoulders were wide, his stance confident. This one was going to be a bitch to take down.

Finnegan raised his hand. “Hold back, McPhee.”

“He’s a vampire.” I might be able to get hold of him by the hair. It was clipped short and blond.

“McPhee—” Finnegan’s tone was a direct order. “This is Lucien Mead. My guest.” He put an emphasis on that last word.

The vampire bowed at my pack leader’s introduction.