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“No,” Lucas’ voice came through the line. “He was old, yes. But when he wanted to fight, he could fight. He was choosing to fade because his mate died, but he could’ve stopped that at any time. Whatever killed him was powerful.”
A powerful alpha getting killed by something mysterious. This wasn’t the first time I’d heard something similar. “Are you sure it wasn’t that fey beast?” I asked just in case we were tying things together that really weren’t related. “The one that was attacking the Irish pack? Because I heard that guy ripped his victims apart and—”
“No,” Lucas said, and my hope for an easy solution dwindled. “From what I heard, the fey beast didn’t leave remains to identify a body. Muraco was in a circle formed of blood. He was laid on the ground, arms and legs stretched wide. Precisely one centimeter spacing between each severed joint.” The m
ore he talked the rougher his voice got. Lucas was one pissed off Were.
“It was a ritual killing. So, it has to be another witch gone bad,” I said.
“Or a demon that she released,” Claudia said.
I winced. “That sounds a lot worse.” I couldn’t believe I was at a point where I was crossing my fingers that the bad guy was an evil, possibly demon-possessed witch.
“That’s because a demon strong enough to do this would have to be extremely powerful. And now—who or whatever killed Muraco—has an even bigger power boost,” Claudia said.
“Motherfucker,” I muttered.
“Exactly.” She was quiet for a second. “We have to go prepare Muraco for burial, but I’ll give you a call tomorrow. Buena suerte, prima.”
“You, too.” I ended the call. “I wish we had some better answers.” I also wished my visions were working.
Wishing wasn’t going to make anything happen. “What time do we leave in the morning?”
“Took agreeing to double their regular fare, but the water taxi will pick us up at four a.m. We’ll meet a car on the mainland that will take us to the airport, but it’s a seven-hour drive, even with cutting across the bay. As long as we catch the right ferry, we should make our flight tomorrow evening.”
I groaned. Four in the morning? That was going to be brutal. “It’s been really nice. Being in your home in France. Paris. Meredith’s wedding—”
“Ceremony.”
“Whatever.” I elbowed him. “But I think my favorite has been this beach.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought maybe you liked the club in Paris the best,” he said.
Even with all the gloom and doom hanging over our heads, I couldn’t help but grin at the memory. “That was fun, but this has been better. I definitely want to come back.”
“We can do that. Michael doesn’t use this house much, and he won’t mind if we visit again.”
I slid out from between the balcony rungs so that I could fully face Dastien. If I couldn’t feel the worry in him, I wouldn’t have known it was there. His small smile wasn’t deep enough to reveal his dimples and I needed to change that. “We can’t do anything until we get home, so let’s enjoy tonight.”
He pressed his forehead against mine, and I leaned into him.
“I don’t want what happened today to taint our honeymoon,” I said.
He pulled back. “That will never happen. This has been everything. Nothing could ever taint it.” He brushed a feather-light kiss against my lips. “Nothing.” One more kiss. “Not ever.”
When he brushed a third kiss against my lips, I couldn’t stand the teasing. I wrapped my arms around his neck and sank deep into him.
Tomorrow would come. Then I’d have to face the demon or evil witch or whatever was coming for us.
For now, I had Dastien and the quiet, and I was going to savor every second I had left.
Three
Almost dying took its toll, which meant it was time to make food, and not just a little food—sandwiches and Cheetos weren’t going to cut it—but a ton of food, including lots of meat. Dastien grilled some massive steaks that had to have been at least half a cow, but he said it wasn’t even nearly that much. Still, a family of ten could live for a few days on the food I chowed through. I’d made four boxes of wild rice and a large salad.
