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“What happened?” he demands, his voice trembling with emotion. “What killed my friend?”
“We don’t know yet.” Ros reaches out to him. “We’re still investigating.”
Zane’s anger flares, and he slaps Ros’s hand aside. “This is your fault! You were too hasty in disbanding the huntsmen. If we’d kept hunting down rogue paranormals, my friend would still be alive.”
A stricken expression crosses Ros’s face before he hides it. “We all want answers, Zane, and we want justice for Drake. But this is not the time for blame. For now, go home before the sun comes back out. I’ll let you know when we figure out what’s doing this.”
Zane’s lip curls back to reveal a sharp fang. “You think I’m safe, sitting like a stuck duck in my home, just waiting to see who’s next? You promised us a better life here, but we’re trapped like animals in our homes.”
With an angry hiss, Zane turns on his heel and shoves his way back out the door into the downpour.
Ros remains where he stands, his face a frozen mask.
Unable to leave him alone in his pain, I slide off my stool and walk to his side. “Zane is just upset. He’s confused and letting his grief speak for him.”
Ros continues to stare at the door, his voice heavy with self-doubt. “But what if he’s right? What if my hatred for the way my father corrupted the organization blinded me to the good it could have been doing? What if I made a mistake?”
“You didn’t stop the work,” I remind him. “The paranormal police are taking over. It’s their job.”
“But they’re not here, and I am.” He shakes his head and turns toward the back of the shop.
Sadness fills me at seeing him so defeated, but I don’t know what else I can do to make him realize this isn’t his fault.
Thunder crashes outside, making me jump. My eyes instinctively dart to the window, and my heart freezes as I lock gazes with a man who stands on the other side of the glass staring back at me.
Bryant.
He looks the same as he did in the street earlier, his crazed eyes fix on me, and a smile curling his lips.
My heart jolts painfully back into motion, and I blindly reach out.
Sensing my fear, Owen swiftly comes to my side. “Rowe, what is it?”
My lips part, my eyes burning as I refuse to look away from Bryant. “Do you see—”
The crash of the door opening again makes me flinch. When I look back at the spot where I saw Bryant just a moment before, I find the fear-filled face of a local staring into the shop instead.
Horace storms into the bookshop, flinging rainwater everywhere. Anger reddens his face as he shouts, “Haut, come out here! I demand answers! What are you planning to do to stop these deaths?”
Haut’s disinterested voice drifts from the back. “We’re still investigating, Horace. We’ll find out what happened.”
“That’s what you said earlier, and now we have another body!” Horace’s gaze sharpens as he spots Owen, and his lip curls with disdain. “How can we trust your investigation when you’re sleeping under the same roof as one of the potential suspects?”
Haut’s growl precedes his appearance, and he looms over the smaller shifter. “Watch yourself, Horace.”
Horace sneers. “You’re no longer Alpha, Haut, so I don’t have to listen to you anymore.”
Haut steps closer, a constant, threatening rumble coming from his chest. “I don’t need to be Alpha to put you in your place.”
The older man skitters backward before his attention fixes on where I stand beside Owen, and his gaze fills with accusation. “Ever since you came to town and started making all these changes, nothing has been right. There are people who want Hartford Cove to go back to how it was before you arrived.”
The wolf flashes in Haut’s eyes, and the tension in the room rises. “Are you threatening my mate?”
Owen intercepts him, stepping between Haut and Horace, and his voice carries a note of authority as he addresses the council member. “Leaving town is no longer on the table, Horace. We fought for Hartford Cove and won the right to live here. If you don’t like the direction the town is taking, you and anyone else who disagrees are welcome to leave and start your own wolf shifter-exclusive town.”
Horace’s flush deepens, and he spits out, “Your father would be disappointed in how you turned out, Owen. A true Hartford would care about preserving our town. Don’t think that you’ll be able to throw around your weight forever.”
Haut snarls, and Horace leaps backward, slips on the puddle he created, and almost falls. His arms pinwheel as he catches his balance, then turns tail and flees.
