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“No,” she said, and glanced at the others, who seemed just as baffled—and concerned—as she did.
“Whatever made the prints smelled like Pack,” Connor said, delivering the final blow.
“No one in the clan would have killed Loren,” Georgia said. “We live with the clan, day in and day out. We’d know if someonewas capable of—of what was done to him. We’d know,” she said again, stabbing a finger into the table to make her point.
“Okay,” Connor said. “You’d know more than me. But you’ll tell Cash what we found? Just so he’ll know, too?”
Georgia nodded. “I will.” But she pushed back her chair and rose, and walked back into the kitchen without another word.
***
The mood when we prepared to leave was much darker than it had been when we’d arrived.
Connor picked up the mostly full growler as we stepped out of Georgia’s cabin onto the porch; I had a container of leftover chicken I was already planning to eat for breakfast.
Georgia stepped into the doorway behind us. “Elisa.”
Her tone was concerned, serious, and I had to steel myself, prepare myself to turn around and meet her gaze.
“Yes?” I asked as innocently as I could manage.
Her brows met at a point between her eyes. “The power,” she said. “It’s fighting you.”
Cold ran down my spine like ice water, and I had a vision of my mother’s face—tear streaked and sobbing—if she discovered what I really was.
“It’s fine,” I said, and could hear the tightness in my voice. “It’s handled.”
“Is it?”
Connor glanced back from the edge of the porch, brows lifted at the fact I’d stopped following him.
“It’s fine,” I said again, this time my voice harder. I immediately regretted my tone, but could hardly apologize when I couldn’t admit what I was apologizing for.
“I don’t think you believe that,” she said, her gaze intense on my eyes. “But if you change your mind and you want to talk, I’m here.”
That couldn’t matter. It just couldn’t.
***
“You want a drink?” Connor asked when we returned to the cabin and he’d squeezed the growler in with the blood in the refrigerator. “Maybe that Scotch we discussed?”
“Rain check,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m still digesting dinner.” I was also worn out—physically, emotionally. It had been a long night. And given tonight’s events, I suspected tomorrow wouldn’t be any easier.
I pulled off my boots, sat down on the couch, and let my head fall back. And opted not to tell Connor what his aunt and I had discussed. He didn’t need any more drama piled on.
“Same,” he said, taking a seat beside me, weariness in his movements.
“We aren’t leaving tomorrow,” I predicted.
“I think I need to stay.” He turned his head to meet my gaze. “I can get you home if you need to go, but I’d like you to stay, too.”
I reached out and took his hand, big and warm, in mine. “We rode up together. Might as well go home the same way.”
He squeezed my hand. “I’d say I’m sorry for dragging you into this, but that’s why I wanted you to come. At least in part.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry for it, for you and your family and the Pack.”
“Me, too.” He sighed. “There’s a small part of me that dreads the possibility of being Apex because I’d have to deal with idiocy and self-aggrandizing shifters and poor decision-making.”
