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Tristan’s face flushed with anger. ‘What are you doing here?’ he spat. ‘You can’t help us. He was killed under your roof, your protection. His death is on you. Get out and start running, and maybe you’ll get some life before I kill you.’
Manners crossed the space between them with a few angry strides and punched Tristan in the face. He knew how to punch; Tristan flew through the room and crashed against the oak bookshelf.
‘Threaten the alpha again and I’ll kill you,’ Manners growled. His eyes flashed with yellow and I didn’t doubt that he’d do it.
Someone cleared their throat. ‘I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,’ said a voice drily.
I knew that voice. I turned toward Steve Marley. I’d gone to school with him and he’d dated one of my school friends. He had two triangles on his forehead: the first triangle was the mark of the Other, and the second was the mark of the Connection. Because both triangles were visible, I knew he was in the Other realm with full access to his magic. He was working for the big guys. When he’s in the Common realm his triangles disappear, and with them his magic. Most of the human species spend as much time as possible in the Other, but we all have to re-charge our magical batteries now and again with a stint in the Common.
When Steve and I were growing up together, I’d had no idea he was Other. I’d known fuck all about the dangerous, co-existent magical realm. I couldn’t say that ignorance was bliss, but life was certainly simpler.
Steve’s eyes flashed a warning. ‘Alpha,’ he greeted me coolly, as if we didn’t know each other. ‘I’ve no doubt you wish to examine the scene. I’ve secured it, but you can see it before I call in the forensic team.’
I nodded and followed him, gesturing for Manners to stay behind. Yes, I was leaving him with my hostile pack, but he could handle himself. I absolutely wasn’t punishing him for lying to me. Not in the slightest.
Steve paused outside a door. ‘It’s horrific,’ he warned. He passed me a pair of booties to slip on over my shoes and gloves to snap on. ‘Don’t touch anything,’ he instructed.
I nodded calmly, even though I was feeling faintly sick. I didn’t want to see this.
Steve opened the door, we stepped in and I sneezed violently. How embarrassing.
Vile,Esme hissed.This cannot stand. We will find out who did this and rip out their throat.I didn’t disagree.
Mark was naked, chained to a chair. His bed was unmade, as if he’d been dragged from it in his sleep. His body was covered in deep cuts, gashes, and a whole lot of dried blood. The wounds were tinged with green. His mouth was gagged and his eyes had been gouged out. The stench of death and human faeces assaulted my nose. He’d been dead for more than an hour or two.
I struggled with the urge to vomit. ‘Any idea on time of death?’ I asked when I was confident my breakfast would stay down.
‘It’s not a precise science like they portray in the movies. The body is still slightly warm to the touch, but rigor mortis has set in. I’d say he was killed less than six hours ago.’
I was impressed. Steve sounded like he knew what he was doing. ‘That, and the fact that Marissa said goodnight to him at midnight,’ he added.
Okay, slightly less impressed now. ‘Why are his wounds tinged green? A potion?’
‘Nothing so complex.’ He studied me. ‘You must be new to the Other?’
‘Recently turned werewolf at your service.’
‘And an alpha already? You always were ambitious.’
‘It was an accident. I was in the right place at the wrong time.’
‘I’m sorry. I admired Lord Samuel – he was eccentric but he always seemed to rule fairly. He didn’t trust the Connection, but I liked him on a personal level.’
I battled with my feelings of guilt. I’d killed Lord Samuel at his behest because he’d already been mortally wounded, poisoned by another werewolf alpha called Jimmy Rain. Lord Samuel hadn’t wanted his pack to fall into Rain’s sadistic claws. I’d been the only wolf there at the time, so I’d killed him and taken his place as alpha, snatching victory from Rain. And here I was, stuck with a role ceded only in death or old age. Lucky me.
‘Lord Samuel was poisoned – by someone else,’ I hastened to add. ‘I killed him before he died so that the pack wasn’t passed to his poisoner.’ I gestured to Mark’s body, ‘But if this wasn’t poison, then why are the wounds green? We’re not in the age of gangrene anymore.’
‘Not gangrene, not poison. These wounds were made using a silver blade.’
‘Silver? Is that really a thing?’
‘You didn’t know that silver and werewolves don’t mix?’
‘Well, sure. I mean, I grew up with the idea that silver was bad for werewolves, but back then I didn’t believe that werewolves were real either. I’ve learnt that whatever the Common knows about the Other is always a bit twisted. Take vampires – here they’re called vampyrs, they come out in the daytime, they have a reflection and they don’t sleep in coffins.’
‘No, but they do need permission to enter a residence and they do drink blood. Some of the stuff you hear about Other creatures is true. With werewolves, the full moon gives you extra strength – and silver is a no-no.’
‘Great. So now I need to chuck out all my silver jewellery.’
