Touch of Evil - Cecy Robson Page 0,25

“Hm,” I say.

Emme makes her way to me, careful not to disrupt the patterns. “What do you see?”

“Handprints. Two of them.” I point to two spots in the section of swivels.

“I don’t really see them,” Emme admits.

“Between the breeze sweeping all the sand around and all the weres that were here to pick up the parts, they’re hard to make out, but that’s what they are.” I crouch and take in a long breath of air. There’s that salty scent again. It’s lighter here than what was on the knee cap. Still, I catch enough before it disappears in the breeze.

Something about the handprints catch my attention. “They’re not big, and not were,” I say. I tilt my head in Emme’s direction. “They’re too small. Our females tend to have long hands and fingers. These are too short and stubby for weres.” I make a face. “They’re also smooth, as in no prints. Shit. They’re even different hands, both lefties.”

“Then there are probably more individuals involved than we realize,” Emme says.

“Yeah,” I say. “That would make the most sense. Just something about it doesn’t feel right.”

“This whole thing doesn’t feel right,” she adds.

“That’s for damn sure,” I mutter.

Emme takes a few steps forward, studying the patterns hard. “How can you tell those are handprints for certain?” she asks. “Prints are hard to see even under the best circumstances.”

I shrug. “Subtle pressure against the sand can lead to even small creases. This thing, or things, left a hell of a lot of pressure, but no creases.”

Emme smiles, pride finding its way into her voice. “You notice everything,” she says. “I guess that’s why you’re the best tracker in the pack.”

And holy fuck, now I’m the one blushing.

I push off the sand and brush off my jeans. “Come on. I can’t make heads or tails of these markings. Let’s head further down and see if we can pick up on something else.”

“Are you…blushing?” Emme asks.

“Fuck no. Wolves don’t fucking blush,” I say. “Just windy is all. Fucking bastard wind. Always shows up when you don’t fucking need it. Fuck.”

I stomp ahead before I realize I’m leaving Emme behind. “You all right?’ I ask, stopping dead in my tracks.

“Yes, just thinking,” she says.

She seems lost in her thoughts, not exactly rushing to catch up. By the time she reaches me, she’s downright frowning. “The masters will eventually go after the other masters; it’s part of their bloodthirsty character traits and what’s kept the vampires wealthy and in power for centuries.”

“They are greedy bastards,” I agree.

“And the head witches are also gunning for each other,” she adds.

“That’s right,” I tell her.

“What about the weres? The other alphas? Will they go after Aric?”

“Em, every were with a clue should fear Aric.” I blow out a breath. “And after all that crap that happened with Celia, most are downright terrified.” My voice lowers when I tell her what I do. “That doesn’t mean another kind of supernatural won’t try to mess with him and what he has.”

As well as try for you and your sisters.

Emme stares hard at the sand, careful to avoid a section of broken shells and rock. She knows where my thoughts are headed. “It would be unwise for the master vampires and head witches to take on Misha and Genevieve, as well as Aric. It’s not just their prowess or skill, they have allies and connections worldwide.”

“Yeah, and those connections keep growing.” My boot crushes a brittle stone, my weight too much for it despite its length and width. “There are rumors going around Genevieve is going to claim the entire west coast as her own. She has Nevada and California, and she’s targeting Oregon and Washington next.”

“There’s already a head witch in that territory,” Emme says carefully.

“I know. Lumina. But she’s all power and no flair from what I hear.” I rub my nose when I catch a trace of something else. “Aric’s hoping Lumina will step down. He doesn’t like her and considers Vieve a good leader and ally. For as much as Aric and Vieve do not always see eye to eye, they have a decent working relationship and he respects her.”

“Do you think he respects Genevieve enough to support her acquisition of the remaining states?”

“No. He won’t go that far. If he did, it would cause a riff with the weres in Oregon and Washington,” I reply. “Aric flat out told Genevieve he won’t back her if it comes down to a duel.”

“A duel? That would be terrible,”