Page 109 of Crimson Moon Falling

“She knew your dad, and she knew exactly who you were.”

Mangus whined from the porch, probably sensing my distress. The mist had thickened, pressing against the windows as I showed Gunnar the ring.

“We need to find out what the connection is between my father and Zaria, and what is happening in this Park.”

Gunnar blinked at me. “Uh, it’s kinda obvious they were romantically involved.”

I looked down at the ring in my palm, and for the first time since my father disappeared, I wondered if I’d be better off not knowing.

Chapter 34

Riley

No. Even if my father married Zaria and didn’t tell me, it wasn’t a betrayal. My mother barely tolerated us, and if he found someone who loved him and made him happy, even for a short time, I couldn’t begrudge him.

But if they had gotten married, he’d never told me. The ring sat heavy in my palm, a dull gold circle that connected two people I’d thought existed in separate worlds. My implant ran probability calculations and mapped connections. My dad and Zaria. My dad and Viggo. Lake Bled, Yellowstone, and thermal energy. The Chimera Project and General Wilson. Pieces floated through my mind.

I slipped Zaria’s ring back into the evidence bag, then tucked it into my jacket pocket with the address book, feeling the weight of both.

“There’s one more thing I want to do,” I told Ash. Walking back into the kitchen, I found a notepad and a pen and wrote a short note.

The fish stew recipe on page 129 would be good with fresh trout. I listed my phone number and signed the note R.B., then set it on the counter next to the cookbook.

Gunnar appeared in the doorway, his bulk filling the frame. “What the hell is that about?”

“I’ll explain later.”

He sniffed loudly. “Tell me now.”

“You’ll live. Come on, let’s go.”

Ash was already standing on the porch, staring into the misty forest with Athena next to him. Mangus’s massive head came up, and he walked over to me and brushed my thigh.

We locked up the cabin and retaped the door, the yellow tape fluttering. I zipped my jacket higher. The mist had thickened, turning the forest into something from a Grimm Brothers fairy tale, with jagged edges and hidden things.

Mangus lifted his head, and Athena’s ears swiveled forward. Then I heard a thin, reedy sound.

It came again, as a small, bedraggled shape emerged from the trees at the edge of the clearing. It looked like a bobcat. No, not a bobcat. It was Zaria’s Pixie-bob, Edwina, with her tufted ears and stubby tail.

She limped toward us, looking thinner. Her left eye was swollen and crusted with pus, the skin around it angry and red. She made that sound again, a meow that cracked in the middle.

“Jesus,” Gunnar muttered. “Is that Zaria’s cat? What’s her name?”

“Edwina. Ed for short,” I answered quietly.

Ed limped across the clearing, her gait uneven, and headed straight for Ash.

She rubbed against his leg, leaving a streak of what might’ve been blood on his dark pant leg. Her purr was ragged, like something broken.

Ash knelt. His large hands careful. “Hey, little one. Where have you been?”

Mangus whined but stayed at my side. Athena padded over to the cat, and I tensed, expecting her to snarl or lunge. But she bent and licked at Edwina’s swollen eye. The cat leaned into the hellhound’s tongue.

My eyebrows shot up, and I glanced at Ash, who was gently checking the cat’s leg. Edwina trembled as the white hellhound delicately licked her swollen eye, clearing away the crust and pus. Ed’s purr grew stronger, the feeble sound smoothing out a little.

“Her eye’s infected, and she has bite marks along her flank.” Ash’s hands hovered over her, sending a warm flutter of his Homeopath energy into her little body.

“She’s lost weight and looks dehydrated,” Gunnar added. “How long has she been out here?”