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“But youfinddeath, and that’s why I caught your scent at the first body.”
“My scent?Bodies? What the hell is going on around here?”
He ushered me away from the school. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. Is there anyone in your house right now?”
I shook my head. “Dad got some temp work at the hospital, and Mam’s at work for at least another two hours.”
“Can I come over? I’ll explain what I know, what I think I know, and then you can decide yourself what you believe.”
I nodded. Partly because I just wanted somebody in town to talk to me. Partly because I could do with an explanation into my sleepwalking, no matter how absurd. And mostly because I was scared shitless of bumping into Victor alone.
We headed to my house in silence. Dorian seemed hyper vigilant, making me nervous that Victor was going to leap out of the nearest bush or something, but nothing happened on the way.
At my house, I made us a snack in my kitchen. We ate in silence while I debated whether I really wanted to know the truth about me. It had grown a lot scarier, but not knowing had to be worse.
When we had finished eating, I gave Dorian a meaningful look. “Go for it.”
“No interruptions?”
I held out my hand. “Agreed.”
He shook my hand. “All of us, my people, we’re a pack. We’re not all werewolves—there are siblings and parents and children of werewolves with us, too—but Byron is our leader, our alpha. We don’t know much about other beings, but Nathan’s sister is kind of like a witch. We have a long history, but her ancestor sort of cursed herself and her family, and it affected all werewolves for centuries. When Amelia was a teenager, she helped break that curse, but she took on her ancestor’s burdens and power, too.”
“Is she a werewolf?” I couldn’t help asking, unable to imagine the woman turning furry. It sounded ridiculous.
“Yes,” he said in a wary tone, hesitating as though waiting for me to keep interrupting or kick him out or something. “That spirit board from Halloween? That was hers. She has a kind of connection to things the rest of us don’t.”
“That’s what you were all doing that day,” I muttered. “Contacting the dead? You know everyone thinks you’re in some kind of cult, right?”
“That’s one of the kinder rumours. And if you keep interrupting, we’ll be here ‘til next Tuesday.”
I held up my hands. “I’ll save it for the end.”
“So, yeah, she communicates with her ancestors. They’re confusing, but she thinks a spirit tried to communicate with you on Halloween, that you’re the harbinger it’s looking for, but something went wrong. You turning up the day you fainted made that attempt go screwy, too.”
I tried to process that, realised I couldn’t, so just waited for him to continue.
“Aside from that, a wolf went missing from the pack, but the pack thought he chose to leave. Then another wolf disappeared. She turned up dead. I… found her body. It had been dug up from where she was hidden, and your scent was there. I think you find the dead when you sleepwalk, but for a reason. You helped me find Alex’s body. Without you, the pack would have assumed she ran away. You helped, Margo.”
I involuntarily shuddered. Digging up graves of murdered bodies didn’t make me sound like a hero.
“Mara and Alex were close, and Mara knew she hadn’t run away. When I found the body, Mara was upset, said she was going to figure out who killed Alex, and she wound up dead, too.” His voice broke then. He took a moment to gather himself.
“Are you okay?” I asked, concerned by the pain in his eyes. He couldn’t be lying. Nobody could fake that kind of grief. I’d never experienced anything like it, couldn’t even imagine such depth of feeling.
He nodded, cleared his throat, then continued. “Your scent was all around Mara, too. There’s a chance that you know something, deep in your subconscious, that part of your mind that sleepwalks. Maybe you don’t, but it’s possible you saw the killer somehow.”
That shook me. While I was sleeping, I couldn’t defend myself against an actual murderer. “What does this have to do with the spirit?”
“Well, we don’t really know if the spirit has something to do with the murders or not. My pack is mad with grief, and some of them think you have something to do with what happened. You’re connected, but not in the way they think. The spirits told Amelia that the harbinger has to bring peace, so it makes sense that you’re the harbinger, right? I mean, you’re the only new element in the equation.”
I leaned back in my seat. “Your voice goes funny whenever you say the word, ‘harbinger,’ so what does it mean to you?”
He looked down at his hands. “It’s just… from what I heard as a kid, harbingers are scary, enemies of the wolves, so that’s a whole new level of concern about you. I’ve seen you in the woods. I know you’re not a murderer, but it’s like you’re drawn to death. And if somebody else is murdered, and you show up, you could wind up dead, too.”
“I don’t know what to think,” I whispered.
He met my gaze then. “About harbingers or werewolves?”
