the hype. If the whole murderous mess hadn’t been so wasteful and tragic, she would have been amused. “You created a list of people for me to meet. Then you helped your man kill his way through the list. Then you dumped them in the Summit Avenue area . . . what a Pack member would consider vampire territory. Even better, what a vampire would consider vampire territory.
“You knew I’d be right in the middle of it all, keeping an eye on the vampires and unwittingly keeping things stirred up. When the queen looked into the murders happening so near, she’d wonder what had changed. I was the change. A Pack member, set right in the dead center of her territory. And with things between our people and hers still in a bit of an uproar . . . well. It wouldn’t have taken much to set off those fireworks. And I’d be gone . . . killed by a vamp, maybe. Or arrested by a human... which would bring my name to their attention. Word would also get back to Michael. And there’d be a mess. A big fat mess in the last place any of us wanted it.
“And once the hurricane whipped through our lives, you’d have what you wanted.”
“Yes.”
“Except you couldn’t. Because you killed him. Didn’t you?”
A long silence, finally broken by her sigh. “Yes. I had to. He’d shamed the family. He’d endangered the Pack.”
She’s gone insane. Absolutely flipped her lid. I should feel worse for her than I do. What a waste! All of it, pure waste! Oh God, God, what was it all FOR?
“I didn’t do anything wrong.”
That was so absurd, Rachael had no idea what to say. There’s something very wrong with this woman. And then, of course, she realized what it was. I should feel sorry for you. I don’t, though. I guess . . . I’m a bad person after all.
“I didn’t,” she repeated.
“You did, actually. And you’re not even a bad guy.”
She actually smiled at that. “No?”
“No, Cain, you’re not a bad guy.” Rachael spoke gently, with what little pity she could manage. “You’re the worst kind of bad guy. You think you’re the good guy. So in your mind, every terrible deed is justified for the greater good. It’s why you’re so dangerous. It’s why my cousin will most likely kill you.”
“To come kill me? Here?” She laughed, a grating and ugly noise. “What, and leave his precious Cape Cod and his precious monkey wife—”
“Cain!” Rachael’s usually mild temperament left her; her shout was part growl, part roar. Monkey was a vicious pejorative to describe their brothers who had evolved on the far side of the world. It was just about the worst slur a werewolf could use. “Watch your filthy mouth!”
“Oh. I see.” Cain’s upper lip was curling and lifting, curling and lifting, showing Rachael quick flashes of sharp, white teeth. It was unconscious but spoke volumes. Anger. Anger. Anger. Anger. “You’ve met one. You’re fucking one. I can smell him on you.”
“I doubt it. Most likely you’re smelling yourself. When was the last time you showered?”
“Traitor.”
“You’re not going to do the sad and stupid our-bloodlinemust-be-kept-pure nonsense, right? First off, it’s not true, and second, it’s just so pathetic. Please, please . . . if you’ve got a gun, shoot me in the face.” Not as nasty as monkey, but a sly shot all the same. Using anything but teeth and claws to kill was considered lazy and contemptible. “Shoot me in the face, the knee, throw me under your car and then back up a few times, whatever, just don’t start with the race-traitor crap. Because I can’t think of anything sillier to discuss.”
“Well, you are one! You’re the one running around banging monkeys.”
“More than that, even,” she said, staying calm. This woman is insane. You know why. You know what’s wrong with her. It doesn’t excuse anything . . . but it bears keeping in mind. Don’t rise again. Don’t. “I’m taking him for a mate.”
“Other than trying to induce me to vomit in your wastebasket, why would you ever tell me that?” Lift. Curl. Lift. Curl.
“So I can see your face when I explain that he’s ten times the person you’ll ever be, Cain. He wouldn’t set up an innocent for murder. He wouldn’t sit back while bystanders were targeted and killed because he got homesick. And he’d never turn on family . . . he wouldn’t kill the killer.”
“Oh, yes, please tell me more.