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“Who’s name?”
“Not who, but what,” I said as I stepped away from the water. “Do you know what hospital my father was taken to after he became wounded?”
“He wasn’t taken to a hospital.”
I paused. “My father was mortally wounded, and he didn’t wind up in a hospital?”
“Hospitals are human things,” Dean said matter of factly, “shifters don’t need them.”
“But, if he was in Portland when it happened, he’d be surrounded by humans that would more than likely call 9-1-1. So, why the fuck didn’t he end up in a hospital?”
He grinned. “You have his reasoning skills, you know. Good to see your mind is finally clearing up a bit.”
“Focus, Dean. I need information and I need it now. Why didn’t my father end up in a hospital if he was hurt on human soil?”
“That’s another reason why his death has been so hard on us. When we say we have no clue why or how he died, we mean it. One day, he left for Portland, and the next thing we know he’s dead.”
I reached for the shower door. “Don’t wait up. Portland has some questions to answer, and I’m not coming back without them.”
“Raven, are you sure that—”
“You have your orders, Dean. I expect you to follow them.”
He chuckled. “Yes, alpha.”
“Lovely.”
I dried myself off as quickly as possible before I tossed on some clothes. By the sounds of it, my father never should’ve perished. He never should’ve died. So, why the hell had he? Why hadn’t one of the healers gone with him? Why hadn’t anyone in town intervened on his behalf and sent him somewhere to be healed. Anywhere, to be healed!?
I needed those answers.
But, as I pieced myself together and headed downstairs toward the front door, the second I ripped it open I had another issue fall into my lap.
“Well, then,” Elias Michaels said with a taut smile pulled across his face, “it seems like you’re settling in nicely.”
I clicked my tongue. “Mr. Michaels, whatever it is we need to discuss, it’s going to have to wait.”
I tried to slip past him, but he stuck his arm out. “First, we have to settle the matter at hand. Your father’s estate and will.”
I shoved his arm out of the way and brushed past him onto the porch. “After I’m done with my errands, Mr. Michaels.”
“You mean, the errands that will no doubted reveal what happened to your father?”
I froze in my tracks and slowly turned to face him. “What have you failed to tell me, Mr. Michaels?”
He pulled a folder out of the briefcase he clutched in his hand. “Why don’t we go sit down somewhere? The kitchen table, perhaps? Your father always preferred having--.”
I stormed him, getting right into his face. “What the fuck are you not telling me about my father, Elias?”
“Raven?” Dean called from up the stairs. “You okay down there?”
“I’m fine,” I shouted back.
A bit too curtly, but there wasn’t much I could do about that when I was staring into the face of someone who was still withholding information from me.
“We should really take a seat,” Elias said.”
I walked him backwards into the house and slammed the door behind me. “We don’t sit anywhere until you talk. What happened to my father?”
