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And Claudia and Raphael. What was I going to say to them? How could I tell them that everyone they knew was dead?
Mr. Dawson joined us on the roadside. “If it were my pack, I’d notify the families and then burn it all to the ground, but these are witches. I don’t want another coven coming here and saying we killed them. It could start a war.” He blew out a breath. “Some of the local cops know about the pack. I’ll call them. But first, we should call your father. I want him here to make sure we handle this right.”
I pointed to myself. “My dad?” He was a normal human. No witch or wolf or fey in him at all and I wanted him as far away from this as possible. “Why would we call him?”
“He’s our PR guy and lawyer. If this gets out, we need to make sure we’re covered. I want him here before we contact the authorities.”
He had a point, but I still didn’t like it. Not even a little bit. “I can call him.” I pulled out my phone, and was shocked to see it actually had service.
I snorted. That bitch. Luciana had put the kibosh on all forms of communication, but with her wards gone, I had full bars. Something I would’ve killed for when I was staying here.
Dad went into problem-solver mode as soon as I told him what was up. I could hear him getting dressed through the phone as I explained the situation. When he hung up, saying he’d get here as fast as he could, I settled down to wait. Cosette confirmed all buildings but Luciana’s house were free of magic and then disappeared again, but I knew she wasn’t gone for good. Not yet, at least.
After the magical all clear, the eight Cazadores broke up the compound, searching the buildings one by one, just in case there were other enemies hiding. I understood it had to be done, but it still seemed wrong. Weren’t they disturbing the scene of a crime? Or maybe I watched too many crime shows.
They agreed to save Luciana’s house for me, but I didn’t want to go in until I absolutely had to.
At least I wouldn’t be going in alone this time. Dastien wouldn’t let that happen.
It seemed like forever, but wasn’t more than thirty minutes before my father pulled up.
I stood, brushing the dirt off my jeans. Then a second car rumbled over the cattle guards. And a third. And as fast as that, three cop cars were pulling onto the compound. I turned to Mr. Dawson. “I thought you didn’t call them yet?”
He came to stand next to me. “I didn’t.” His voice had a bit of a growl in it.
This was so not good. “Then what are they doing here?” My voice sounded a little high, and I cleared my throat.
“I don’t know.” His growl deepened.
“What if they’re not the cops on your payroll?”
“I don’t have any cops on my payroll.” He crossed his arms. “I just hope these are the ones I know.”
I wiped my sweating hands on my jeans. “And if not?” I knew I was annoying him, but I wanted to know the answer. We’d found a compound full of dead bodies and our first reaction hadn’t been to call the cops.
Which made us look really bad. Basically suspects.
“Then it’s a good thing your dad is here, because we’re going to have a hard time explaining this.”
I swallowed. Going to prison for murder might stop my vision from happening, but it wouldn’t stop Luciana, and we’d be sitting ducks behind bars.
Except I doubted the Weres would take kindly to being shoved in the backs of cop cars. The Cazadores already formed a loose circle and their eyes glowed as their wolves neared the surface.
I swallowed again, praying this didn’t turn into a fight.
Chapter Eleven
We all gathered as we waited for the cops to leave their cars. The Cazadores stood behind us—me, Dastien, Mr. Dawson, Cosette, Chris, Meredith, and Donovan.
The first cop out was a lady. Her crisp uniform made her look more boxy than she probably was. Gray streaks ran through her hair, which was tied into a neat bun at the nape of her neck. “Michael,” she said as she strode toward us. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
Mr. Dawson met her halfway between the cars and us. “Honestly, I’m surprised to be here myself. How are you doing, Marlene?”
“Not good. I have four dead bodies in town. All of them listed this as their home address.”
Shit. I hadn’t even thought about the brujos who lived off the compound.
Mr. Dawson widened his stance—like he was bracing for a fight—as five more cops approached. “Where did they die?”
