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Probably the latter.
“Because I know a lot more about hunters than any of you,” I snapped.
“Cool the fucking attitude,” Declan told me. “We all know you know more. We want to understand what the hell is happening before we talk to the Harveys and before we call every pack member to the house. We have to have all the facts before we cause major concern.”
“We should cause major concern,” I said. I kicked at the arm of the couch, needing something to do with the rampant energy inside me. The walls of the leader room were suffocating. Why the fuck were there no windows? “If there was ever a time for major fucking concern, this is it. Hunters are… they’re fucking monsters. The worst of the fucking worst.”
“Give us the rundown,” Cole ordered. “And why the hell you think—”
“Know.”
“—there’s a fuckin’ hunter after y’all.”
“Know,” I repeated with a growl. Fucking dick. “She didn’t struggle—Charlotte didn’t struggle. She couldn’t. That’s the thing about a hunter’s magic. They can control our animals—our wolves. It’s why there were no signs of a fucking struggle. Charlotte couldn’t fight back.
“And then there’s the way she was…” Fuck, I hated talking about this. I wasn’t squeamish, but I knew Charlotte. I grew up with her. This wasn’t a normal situation. Powering ahead was the best fucking way to go, but it sucked. “The way she was killed was unusual—completely clean cut. It wasn’t a knife that did that to her. It was magic.”
“Magic can do that?” Finn asked.
“Their magic can do a lot of fucking things, kid. It’s fucking awful.” What a fucking way to describe it. Shit, I needed better words. “And that message? They’re not fucking around. They’re coming for us, and we need to get defensive real fucking fast. If a hunter is here, they won’t leave. Our numbers won’t scare them.”
“How do you know all this?” Nolan cut in. “I’ve heard of hunters. We’ve all heard of hunters. But all of this… it’s more information than I’ve heard any shifter has.”
“How many shifters are you out there talking about hunters to?” Lucas demanded.
“I have friends!”
“You have Ginny,” he shot back, rolling his eyes.
“Either way,” Declan began over them, “the question still stands.”
“I met one while on a job in Boston a year ago,” I said. The silence was deafening. “I met him in a hotel bar. I was there for dinner, he thought I was there to kill him. It was a real bang-up fucking conversation. He knew what I was the minute I walked in, and I didn’t have a fucking clue what he was.”
“He let you live?” Maverick asked.
“No. He sat down and ate my fucking fries—of course, he let me fucking live!” And he ate my fries but that shit was neither here nor there. “He wasn’t in the business as he called it. Hadn’t been his entire fucking life. It was his dad’s thing going back generations, but he still knew his shit.”
“So, you met a hunter in a hotel bar and you talked?” Isla summed up. “You had dinner with a hunter and he just… told you all his secrets?”
“It wasn’t a fucking secret,” I said. “None of it fucking is. No shifter has ever lived after meeting a hunter to tell about. He was a fucking lawyer, didn’t hunt anyone, and didn’t fucking care who he told what to.”
“So, do you think it’s him? That he’s in Cedar Harbor?” she replied.
“I know it’s not him. There’s not a chance in hell it’s him.”
“How?” Declan demanded. “How do you know that, Killian?”
“Because I killed him.” I had no fucking shame. If I could go back, I’d do it all over again.
“In self-defense?”
“No, I learned his routine, who he interacted with, and picked the best fucking time to put a bullet in his head,” I growled. “And then I got rid of the body.”
“That’s murder,” he whispered.
“That’s putting the pack first,” I told him.
“Tell me he did something first—”
