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In the silence left by his departure, I look at Haut and Owen. “Should we call Mel’s moms? The paranormal council can take over the investigation to ensure it’s impartial.”
Haut shakes his head. “No. The more we rely on the paranormal council, the more say they’ll have in how we run Hartford Cove. As it is, they’re already too interested in our town.”
Ambros, Tris, and Dr. Lopez join us, their expressions grim.
Dr. Lopez pulls off her gloves. “I’ll have to do a full autopsy, but the MO appears to be the same. A single bite to the heart, though there’s some blood left in this one.”
Ambros frowns. “When was the last time Drake had a blood delivery?”
“Last Tuesday.” I gesture toward Barron. “We did the delivery the morning he and Zane came over for dinner. Why?”
“Vampire blood loses the nutrients needed to fuel our bodies over the course of several days. It’s why we need to ingest more blood.” Ambros shakes his head. “If a vampire is responsible for Drake’s death, it wasn’t for food.”
“A werewolf wouldn’t hunt a vampire for the same reason.” Owen’s nostrils flare. “He doesn’t register as food. A werewolf would only have attacked him if Drake was a threat.”
We all look around the bookstore. There’s no way Drake would be perceived as a threat while in the bookshop, translating my grimoires.
Barron seems to be on the same wavelength, because he says, “A werewolf also wouldn’t have had the presence of mind to avoid ruining the books. They were all moved out of the spread of blood on the other side of the table.”
I nod in agreement. “The only one who would want those books kept safe…”
Silence falls again before Haut growls. “No calling the paranormal council. For all we know, they’re in on this.”
“But a witch couldn’t have created that bite. Or…” My brows pinch together. “Could they?”
Silence falls over the shop as everyone contemplates the question.
It looks like we’re back to square one, only with another body added to the list.
LINGERING STORMS
It storms for the next three days, and tension fills the town as suspicions rise.
Everyone seems to hold their breath while Dr. Lopez performs the autopsy.
While we wait, Haut puts my job as a gofer on hold, and Tris takes over my blood deliveries.
I’m not the only one put on unofficial house arrest. Owen shares my fate after his office gets vandalized. The morning after Drake’s death, Owen found the door to the historical society broken off the hinges, despite it being left unlocked, and his office trashed.
Nothing of any importance was destroyed, but it was enough to put Haut on full protector mode, growling every time Owen brought up needing to do something that required going outside. Reminders that Owen was his Alpha were just met with stony stares.
It seems Haut’s acceptance of Owen’s authority only goes so far, and Owen doesn’t push back very hard. Instead, as each day passes, he becomes more and more resigned to the fear—and the hatred sparked by that fear—directed at him from the town’s people.
Which just pisses me off.
These people haven’t given Owen a fair shot for his entire life. He was born to be the Alpha of this town, and through a terrible accident in his youth, that was stolen from him.
Now that he’s finally Alpha, despite his curse, those same people who rejected him as a child are stirring up discontent, preying on people’s fears to take even more from Owen.
It makes me want to scream.
“Everything okay, Rowe?” Owen’s quiet voice breaks into my thoughts.
He stands on a ladder a few feet away, attaching strings of lights to the rafters to brighten the attic. Since we’re under house arrest, I thought now would be a good time to deal with the stuff in the attic.
“Never been better.” I yank the sheet off the pile of furniture, sending dust into the air. “Why?”
Owen’s eyes lift toward the roof where thunder rumbles overhead. “Just asking.”
