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I hesitated, then took the two short steps down into the alley.
“Step where I step.” Perry pointed to the yellow cards, most of which didn’t seem to be tagging anything. I assumed a lot of the physical evidence had already been removed. I followed directly in his footsteps, and he led me over to the body, which was lying in front of a rusting green dumpster. “You sure about this?”
Nope. “Yes.”
Perry pulled back the sheet and settled it around the victim’s waist, exposing the young man’s upper body.
“Meet Liam Casey,” he said.
The dead guy was about my age, maybe a few years older, and aside from his waxy, almost blue complexion, he didn’t look seriously injured at all. I tried to find signs of bruising or broken bones, but there was only a small puddle of blood under his head, like a crimson pillow he’d fallen asleep on.
If this was a werewolf-related death, I was Elizabeth Taylor.
I’d seen what happened when werewolves killed humans, even when the wolves were in their human form. This guy hadn’t been killed by Emmett and Mason, of that I was absolutely positive.
“Thanks.” I straightened up, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans. “Would you excuse me for a minute?”
He pointed to a narrow path I could safely use, and I hustled away. Both Mags and Wilder stood up straighter when I emerged from the alley, and I must have looked as ashen as I felt because they both asked, “Are you okay?” almost in unison.
I shook my head, feeling the false veneer of my confidence cracking.
Instead of forcing out any words I made a beeline for the alley on the opposite side of the street next to a closed strip club. I barely made it past the garbage cans before I braced myself against th
e brick wall, bent double, and threw up on the filthy pavement.
I retched until there was nothing left, grateful I hadn’t eaten anything yet, then leaned against the wall behind me, wiping sweat off my brow and tears from my eyes.
“Get your shit together, Genie,” I grumbled.
I wasn’t sure what had me more rattled, the trouble my wolves were in or seeing the dead body. But if this was how I handled my first difficult situation as an Alpha, I was going to become an easy target for a challenger. The New Orleans pack needed stability, not weakness. I needed to be their strength, whether I believed I had it in me or not.
What was the saying? Fake it ’til you make it?
Callum must have seen something in me he thought made me worthy of being a leader, and now I was being tested. It was time to step the hell up and prove I could do this.
I could, right?
Magnolia came to the end of the narrow alley, blotting out the early-morning light. “You okay?”
I grunted, and she made her way down the corridor towards me, giving my vomit a cursory glance and leaning up against the wall beside me. I couldn’t even pretend to be okay in this particular scenario, but I would be. I had to be.
“Just kind of snuck up on me is all.” I wiped my hands on my jeans again and gratefully accepted the stick of gum she’d taken out of her purse.
“What did?” When her calm, patient gaze met mine, I knew there was no point in lying. Why would I? Mags was my friend above all else, and more than wanting to please me as her Alpha, she wanted to be there for me as a port in the storm. I’d be an idiot not to latch on to that right now.
“The responsibility. I knew it would be more than shaking hands and having a title. I knew I’d have to step up to the plate eventually, but I guess I figured my first official duties might be easier and less…well, less dead-body related.”
“Could be worse,” she offered with a faint smile.
“Oh yeah? How do you figure?”
“Your ex-boyfriend could be on the phone with Wilder right now.”
Chapter Four
If I walked into the street naked and someone was waiting for me with a pop quiz, I wouldn’t have been surprised at all.
This had to be a nightmare, that was the only reasonable explanation.
