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“Well, not supernatural manipulation. I was born to that. What’s the deal with Traeger?” I asked after a moment. “Does he have the cabin to himself?”
“His parents are dead—both killed in a drunk-driving incident four years ago. Both of them way over the legal limit. Father and mother both on the bike, and father turned into the path of a semi. Killed them both instantly. Georgia took him in until he was old enough to live on his own. Still checks in on him. He eats dinner with them most nights.”
“He’s got plenty of anger,” I said. “I think he knows something more about what happened to Loren.”
“He said that?”
“Not in so many words. But he was hiding something—his tone, his body language. He doesn’t bluff very well.”
“And he didn’t know they’d argued?”
“I don’t think so, which raises a different question: If he wasn’t angry with Loren for that, what was he angry about?”
“A good question. I’m a little surprised he talked to you at all.”
“Well, Paisley’s brother, Dante, talked to me. Traeger mostly talkedatme. He’s a punk. And not the good kind.”
“The good kind being yours truly?”
“Of course. Hot and redeemable. Not necessarily in that order.”
He chuckled, put a hand at my back. “And what else is wrong?”
I didn’t want to tell him. Wanted to handle my own battles. But she was a member of his Pack, and if we were going to have a chance at this, at overcoming everyone else’s attitudes, we were going to have to be honest. Something that was in short supply in Grand Bay.
“I can tell you’re disturbed,” Connor said soothingly.
“Miranda, Maeve, and Jae stopped me on the way to Traeger’s. Miranda had some thoughts she wanted to pass along. About me and you.”
“Did she?” His tone went flat.
“Yeah. In particular, she’s got a lot of thoughts about who you should be spending time with.”
He muttered a curse.
“I can handle myself,” I said. “And I can handle her. But you should watch your back. In case you needed any more proof, she does not want to hand the Pack over to you.”
“She has nothing to hand over,” he said calmly. “The Pack does not belong to her. And if I have my way, it never will.” He sighed heavily, pulled me closer again. “Damn, Lis. It’s been a really long night.”
“It’s barely midnight.”
“Don’t ruin the moment, brat.”
I smiled against his chest. “Just keeping it real.”
***
We decided food was the way to go. We’d take a break, recharge, and figure out a plan of attack. Someone in the clan knew who’d killed Loren; the body, the trail, the prints all smelled like clan, not like something foreign. We just needed to figure out which clan members were involved.
I’d forgotten about the leftover chicken for breakfast, but it went down well with beer and, in my case, a bottle of blood. Even if it made us both a little uncomfortable to partake of Georgia’s generosity after we’d parted on bad terms.
“Let’s go to the firepit,” Connor said. “Sit outside. Enjoy the evening. It’s beautiful out there, and the fire will be relaxing. And maybe we could even talk to some shifters.”
I smiled thinly. “You’re inviting me to interrogate your Packmates?”
“No,” he said firmly. “I’m inviting both of us into someone else’s conversation—which isn’t quite the same thing.” But he didn’t look entirely convinced of his own argument.
“Okay,” I said, and finished the bottle of blood. “Let’s go to the firepit. But I reserve the right to ask inappropriately probing questions.”
