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Since then, Lock and Rush have been investigating the network of anti-shifter, anti-witch humans.
“You’ve found something?” I ask grimly.
“More than something,” Lock replies cryptically, and I fall silent.
He leads us to his war room, a modernized version of the round table that occupied the room for centuries. It was where my brothers and I met with the old council and where, after the Human-Shifter war concluded, the castle and all of Wolf-Haven was gifted to the five Wolven-North brothers.
We sit at the table, still round, but now made of black marble with tablets at each seat. I sit in my designated seat while Lock takes his at the head of the table and Rush sits to his left. Though Rush should be on his right, we choose to leave the seat empty in case Fallon ever regains his senses and is able to resume his place at the table.
Speaking of our brother. “How is Fallon doing? Is he still at the tower?”
“Yes,” Rush grunts, leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed. “Better than bringing him here. Still a lot of ill-will toward him from the shifters in the area, despite it being the curse that addled his brains.”
“And for good reason,” Lock interjects. “He caused a lot of damage in Wolf-Haven and beyond. It doesn’t matter that he wasn’t aware of what he was doing. His reign cost lives and livelihoods.”
And nearly cost Sarina her life. Lock may have spared Fallon’s life, but I don’t think he’s forgiven him.
“And now we’re setting it right,” I say, attempting to keep the peace between my brothers. Rush is the crankiest of us and Lock is brusque; they frequently rub each other the wrong way, despite working closely to set Wolf-Haven on the right path. “Tell me why you wanted me to come back so bad after going to the effort of uniting me with my mate?”
Lock catches the hard edge in my tone and has the grace to look guilty. “You were never going to make a move. Thorny simply helped you along.”
“At your behest.”
Rush smirks.
Lock changes the subject, picking up a remote control from the table and turning to a large screen at the front of the room. “Lennox sent this to me earlier. It’s body camera footage from a crime scene he attended.”
I turn my chair to watch, frowning when I see nothing but smoke for several seconds. Soon, I’m able to pick up the sound of Lennox coughing and the crunch of his shoes on what sounds like gravel or glass.
“I’m entering the building now,” he says, then some rustling. “Putting on my mask.”
“Lennox is documenting the scene for further investigation. He was sent in shortly after the fire was put out,” Lock explains.
“I thought he was a police detective with the shifter division. I don’t remember him joining the fire department,” Rush growls. “What’s he doing at the scene of a fire?”
“They found a body.” Lock continues the video clip.
The smoke clears enough that we’re able to see what looks like the charred interior of a warehouse.
“Where is this building located?” I ask.
“New York,” Lock answers. “The meatpacking district.”
“Meat?” Rush asks, his tone shifting to intrigued. “There’s an entire district catering to meat?”
I start to salivate and quickly calculate the last time I ate a meal. Three hours. I could go for a nice, rare steak with a side of sausage links and a frothy mug of beer.
“Focus,” Lock says impatiently, catching the image in my brain. “We have a lot to talk about before we leave here. The meatpacking district is an upscale commercial zone in New York that houses shopping and restaurants. The warehouses used to be meatpacking plants, hence the name.”
Picking up on his subtext, I muse, “The fire happened in an upscale neighborhood, and a body was found at the scene. Did anyone see anything?”
Lock shakes his head. “It happened in the middle of the night and no witnesses have come forward.”
“Has the body been identified?”
He waves my attention back to the screen. Lennox is making his way steadily through the building, commenting as he goes. “The heat and spread of this fire destroyed a lot, but not everything.” He kneels on the floor next to a spray-painted message, brushing soot and ash away with his gloved hand.
The message is in big bold red letters. SHIFTERS WILL KILL US ALL.
