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I thought the least they could do was find his killer, but maybethat was just me. For all their nerves the night before, the clan didn’t seem to be much interested in diving into the cause of Loren’s untimely death. Was that avoidance? Guilt?
I looked at Traeger, wondering how deep his dislike went—and what “troubles” Loren might have caused. And if Traeger’s anger over them might have moved him to murder. Considering the number of injuries and the amount of damage done, someone had been very, very angry at Loren.
Traeger seemed angry enough to kill. But we’d all been angry at someone sometime, and very few of us actually committed murder. And there was no evidence linking Traeger to the death, at least not yet. But maybe we could have a few words....
“The memorial will go forward,” Cash said, which sent a new wave of sound through the crowd. Some approval, some anger. “We’ll address the details—whether he’ll be honored with song, with magic, with sacrifice—in private council.” His gaze landed on me, suspicion keen. “This isn’t the time or place to have those discussions.”
Cash looked away, spread his gaze across the shifters at large. “The clan accepts violence is inevitable. Nature is not soft, and neither are we. Nature is hard, and strength is rewarded, and sometimes we must fight for what we want.”
I glanced at Connor, wondered what he thought of the clan’s liberal attitude toward violence, and found cold disapproval in his eyes.
“Because of that,” Cash continued, “we hold the sheriff—the human justice system—at bay so the clan can make its own decisions. But the injuries done to Loren were not sanctioned by the clan, and no one has presented evidence they were warranted. If I find out any of you were involved, there will be hell to pay.”
This time, Traeger was the recipient of Cash’s cold gaze. Maybe Cash, too, believed Traeger was capable.
But the chill in his eyes disappeared—blanked out—when ahush moved through the room, filling it with utter silence. And a cold spill of magic followed in its wake.
The hair on the back of my neck lifted. I knew that magic.
Vampire.
I turned around, watched the crowd slide apart, smooth as the slice of a dagger.
He walked through them, the shifters giving him hard looks and ample space as he made his way toward Cash.
He was a handsome man, with dark brown skin and cropped black hair, brown eyes topped by a heavy brow, and generous lips just a little heavier at the bottom, and edged by a short beard. He wore a black tunic of stiff linen with a short collar and a V-neck, pants in the same stiff fabric, black shoes, and a silver cuff on his right wrist. He wore no sword, carried no other obvious weapon. But he was the one in charge, if his square shoulders and stern expression were any clue.
Two vampires appeared behind him. A man, tall and broad shouldered, with tan skin and dark hair—short on the sides, waved back on top—and a woman with pale skin and blond hair in a complicated braid around the crown of her head. They wore tunics of the same style, same color as the first vampire’s.
If the shifters objected to vampires walking through their lodge, they didn’t say it aloud. But Connor moved a step closer to me.
“Ronan,” Cash said, nodding at the vampire in front. This was the vampire my father had mentioned.
“We heard of Loren’s death,” Ronan said. “We come to offer our sympathies.”
“Appreciated,” Cash said. “Loren was an elder, a statesman, and he’ll be missed.”
There were obviously some who disagreed with that assessment, including Traeger. But they kept their mouths shut. They might debate whether Loren was clan, but he was plainly a shifter.So they presented a unified front to the outside. To the vampires. Shifters versus the world.
“I always appreciated his thoughtfulness,” Ronan said. “He was a cautious and careful man. And above all, he loved the family that he found here and desired to protect it. The authorities were contacted?”
“Sheriff Paulson came out,” Cash said. “Took a look at the scene, agreed with us that an animal attack was probably to blame. We searched Loren’s house, didn’t find anything. Found nothing compelling in the woods indicating his death had anything to do with the Pack.”
That wasn’t even close to accurate. And while my first instinct was to wonder if Georgia had told Cash what we’d found, the fact that Cash’s gaze shifted to Connor—and contained a pretty obvious warning—answered that question. He knew the truth, but was holding it close. Maybe there were some in the room who believed him regardless. But I wondered.
“I’m not surprised to learn your people were not involved,” Ronan said. “Are there any leads outside the community?”
“Those avenues are being explored,” Cash said, and I’d have called bullshit if the moment had been right.
“If you learn anything, I’d appreciate an update,” Ronan said. “In case they pose a threat to my people, as well.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll also admit to some... curiosity... about your guests.”
Ronan turned to me, evaluated. His eyes were intense, curious. Not unfriendly, but the inspection had the calculating edge I’d come to recognize in vampires, who often gauged the value of the fellow fanged by their political usefulness. I’d seen plenty of similar looks when I’d met single vampires curious about the only born vampire—and the prize I’d make.
“Elisa of Cadogan House,” Ronan said, taking a step closer.
