Killer. She didn't say the actual word, but then she didn't have to. Her tone more than implied it and it cut through him that she could doubt him even a little after all they'd gone through together. Why couldn't one person, just once, have faith in him?
But no. They always thought the worst where he was concerned.
That was okay, he was used to animals and people not having faith in him. Why should she? His own brother had thought him weak and selfish. Why should Aimee be any different? "Where were they murdered?"
"The humans on Exchange Place and Greg in an alley on Royal."
Fang looked up at the sign he could see from his own alley.
Royal.
"Shit," he breathed.
"What?"
Fang hung his head as fear went through him. Maybe he'd done it after all. He couldn't remember not doing it and obviously he'd fought with someone over something potent. And someone other than him had been hemorrhaging badly. Bad enough, blood had been in his mouth and all over his fur.
Just like he'd bitten into someone's jugular. . . .
Oh, shit, shit, shit. He was guilty. He had to be.
No, you'd never do something like that.
Or would he? With the demon inside him, he was capable of anything, and last night that demon had been out of control. And it had been blood hungry.
But he didn't want to tell any of that to Aimee. "Nothing. Do you know what time the murders took place?"
"The humans no. Greg died about two A.M."
Images of an Arcadian panther flashed as he saw himself attacking one. The guy had been human, then panther, then human again as they clashed. "What was Greg?"
"Panthiras Arcadius."
Double shit.
Maybe her doubt about his innocence wasn't so misplaced after all. It was beginning to look like he was guilty. "I gotta go."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm not sure."
"Fang. Be careful. Please." That was sincere and it touched him deep.
She might have doubts about his moral fiber, but she still cared about him. "You too."
He hung up and slid the phone into his pocket. Leaning back against the redbrick wall behind him, he raked his hands through his hair as he tried to sort out what had happened. Nothing was clear. All he could remember were the emotions. The rage. The hunger.
What have I done?
Suddenly, he felt as if someone or something was watching him . . . looking around, he saw nothing out of place. Either with his eyes or his senses. At least not until a large raven landed on the black wrought-iron door gate catercorner to him. It angled its head as if watching him intently.
Yeah . . . a bird. A friggin' bird was putting him on edge.
I am definitely losing my mind. And still the feeling of being watched persisted while there was nothing around him to warrant the sensation. The rising sun had even banished the shadows that had been there when he awoke. No one could be watching him from where he sat. Not without being someplace he could see them too.
Except for the bird.
But for the fact there were no Were-Hunters of that species, he'd think it sentient the way it watched him. Gah, how pathetic am I that a bird is unsettling me?