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"We were," Venus said, answering for Zach. "But Shawn convinced us that he'd be safe if he took another man with him. Apparently Jesse had to take a piss, and while he was off in the bushes, the killer got poor Shawn. By the time Jesse found him, Shawn was dead."
Zach shook his head. "We've reached our wits' end. The Council has finally admitted that we can't handle this on our own. If it keeps up, there won't be a Rainier Puma Pride after a while. We're getting ready to send the women and children to the Blue Road Tribe up on Mount Baker until we've caught the whack job who's offing our people."
"Blue Road Tribe?" Camille asked. "Another werepuma group?"
"Bears, actually," Venus said. "A Native American group. We forged a formal alliance with them, just in case one of our mountains decides to blow. We learned the hard way when St. Helens erupted and decimated the Elk Herders."
"If we're going to do this, let's get it over with," Ajax said. "I want to take my son home and lay him to rest." His voice was rock steady, but in that moment I understood why the older man was so distant. If Shawn was Zachary's cousin, then Ajax must be Zach's uncle, and that was his son lying out in the snow, dead.
Camille started to say something but then shook her head as Zachary led us out into the glen that opened up near the stream. The water was still running, but the rocks near the banks were slippery with snow and ice. A large fire pit sat in the center of the glade, and the surrounding land had been smoothed out. Zach had mentioned that the newlywed couple had been camping. This area must be used for campouts and get-togethers.
A gust of wind blew past, and I could smell traces of blood. I looked over my shoulder at Camille and Menolly. It was obvious they could smell it, too. The look on Menolly's face was one of raw desire, and I was grateful she'd fed recently.
Near the stream, next to a large boulder, rested the body of a young man. Or what had been his body. Hair the color of wheat was splattered with dried blood, and his skin was the texture of old leather, parched as if he'd been mummified. His throat had been slashed, and his head lolled back. I winced and looked away, not wanting to see the terrified look frozen forever on his face.
A gust of wind sent a swirl of flakes into a frenzy, and then the clouds parted for an instant, and the moon shone through, gleaming down on the freshly fallen snow and the face of young Shawn. He and Zach looked a lot alike, but he couldn't have been more than a teenager. Now he would never grow up, never marry, father children, take a trade. I sucked in a deep breath and tried to keep my composure.
"Who could do this to him in such a short time? You say his partner was in the bushes, peeing? That shouldn't have taken more than a few minutes, and yet every ounce of moisture that was in his body seems to have been sucked out of his cells." Menolly knelt beside the body, shaking her head. "Not even a vampire can do this."
"All the victims have been like this. At first we thought maybe some odd natural process was at work, since we didn't find the first few for a while," Venus said. "You can see why we're so frightened. Whoever is doing this has the power to sneak in, drain their victims, rip out their hearts, and vanish before we can catch them. Or even catch a glimpse of them."
He sat on the ground, in the snow, and gently took one of Shawn's hands in his own. "I've tried dreaming the murderer, but I can't seem to get through a fogbank that always obscures my way. All the spells and magical traps I've set have been in vain. Nothing is working."
Ajax stood beside Menolly, staring blankly out at the rippling stream. "If you can find out anything—anything at all to help us—you'll have my undying gratitude," he said gruffly. "I'll pledge service to you and your sisters; I'll pay any cost. Just find out who murdered my son." The big man broke down then, and tears coursed down his cheeks as he silently wept under the glittering moon.
Camille squatted beside Venus and leaned close to Shawn's body, sniffing his shirt. "There's some sort of scent here that I don't recognize."
"We noticed that, too," Venus said. "I thought I knew the scent of most of the creatures around here, but this one is new to me. And yet, it strikes a warning bell. I keep thinking I should know where it's from."
I sat down beside Menolly, shivering as my butt hit the snowy ground.
"It's not the scent of any undead that I recognize," Menolly said after a moment. "As for demons… almost a hint, but not quite. What do you think, Camille?"
Camille leaned down and stared into Shawn's glassy eyes. "I wish Corpse Talkers worked on Weres, but unless he had Fae blood—even a few drops—it's no use to bring one in." She glanced up at Zach, who shook his head.
"No such luck. Pure Earthside Were."
"Thought so," she said, going back to examining Shawn's body. She traced his lips with her finger and held it up to her nose, inhaling deeply. "You're right, Menolly—a faint smell of Demonkin, but there's something more—something over the top of it. This is very strange."
I looked around at the clearing. My attention wavered, and I found myself wandering over to the bank where it dropped directly into the stream. The shore ended, but the curve of the bank led up a steep incline to a mesa above. Pinnacle Rock, overlooking the creek. An inner nudge pushed me to examine the embankment, and the moment I touched the rocky face—what had probably been an ancient alluvial deposit—I knew that I had to climb it.
"Where does this lead?" I called back over my shoulder. Zachary and Tyler joined me, Menolly close behind them. Venus, Camille, and Morio were preparing Shawn's body for transport back to the enclave. Ajax just continued to stare at the endless currents flowing by.
Zach looked up. "I don't know. I don't think I've ever been up there."
"What about you, Tyler?" I asked.
Tyler shook his head. "I don't think you should bother."
"Well, I think otherwise," I said. "There's something up there."
Menolly stepped forward. "Let me go with you, Kitten." she said. She immediately started to climb, and it was like watching the old Menolly, before she'd been killed and changed. She lithely scampered up the bank, digging in with nails to find the barest of handholds.
I took a deep breath. I was athletic; I should be able to make it. "Okay, here goes nothing," I said.
"Are you sure you want to try that? You'll most likely end up in the drink," Tyler said. "Why not let me go get some gear and go up first, to make sure you aren't hurt?"
"No need. I'll be careful. I don't like water, but I love heights." I followed Menolly's path, feeling my way up, using my instincts to guide my feet and hands. The smell of frozen earth loomed rich in my nose, and I pressed my body against the embankment. One foot at a time, one hand at a time. Feel for a handhold. Here, a rock. And there, a slight indentation. Scramble for any foothold, a branch, a stone, a small twig poking out on which to rest my heel as I used sheer muscle to keep my body pressed against the mountainside.
