Page 57 of His to Claim

“No one is able to detect their scent, including another wolf.” My statement seemed to echo in the open space.

“Exactly,” Markel answered.

“The bullets. Has this happened before?” I asked cautiously, the question directed at Markel.

He sighed, his expression bordering on contempt at being questioned. “Almost one hundred years ago and long before you were born, there were incidents of this same nature, but as you can imagine, the sciences surrounding the ability to test the substance were poor. What was consistent was the deaths in the manner you describe.”

“Why in the hell didn’t you mention this at any time in the past?” Max confronted him, his face flushing.

“Because there have been no other incidents, Max. None. The council believed the situation rectified.” Markel’s answer was vague as fuck, yet I could tell Max was ready to back off.

“We need to ascertain exactly what this substance is. Dr. Riker and I have come close. From what we do know, death is swift with little time for intervention. In a sense, a foolproof method for anyone unskilled at killing a wolf in another manner.” My words stung, the room suddenly quiet.

“Very true,” Max finally said.

“Let’s get back to the subject at hand. If what you said regarding Montenegro is true, why is a lone wolf working with him to murder Wolfen? Wouldn’t this wolf be concerned about retaliation, perhaps bringing their extinction closer?” Kyle scoffed, shaking his head.

Markel lifted his eyebrows. “LaRue wolves fear nothing, which is what makes them dangerous.”

I thought about everything Markel had said. “Which could make them excellent assassins.”

Max actually grinned. “Very good point. I wouldn’t put anything past Chris Montenegro. Why not hire a wolf to kill other wolves?”

“That was my question. How does Montenegro know anything about our existence, or any other wolf for that matter?” Gregor snorted, pacing the room like a caged animal.

I could see the quick exchange of glances between Markel and Max, a knowing that quite frankly pissed me off. Secrets. I’d been right in my assumption. Everyone kept them.

Markel shifted up further on his seat, taking a deep breath. “Thomas Montenegro and Blackhawk Cordero were once good friends. It is highly perceivable that Blackhawk confided in him some of the old legends and enemies.”

“That is bullshit!” Gregor snapped. “Blackhawk would never betray his people. Never!”

I was shocked that Gregor had come to Blackhawk’s defense, although I had a feeling that his denial wasn’t based on knowledge of the truth. Everyone at the table turned toward Max.

“There was a time that my father held no desire in following the laws of the Wolfen,” Max admitted, although I could tell how damning it was for him to do so. “There was a time he preferred living entirely as a human. During that period of time, he became very close to Thomas Montenegro.”

The sins of our fathers…

I shook my head, realizing that the Wolfen had just as much to hide as any human. Perhaps this was some old score to be settled.

The murmurs within the council were infuriating.

“Whether or not that is the case, the notion that Montenegro is using a wolf to handle assassinations is entirely possible and one that must be corroborated.” I leaned over the table, planting my palms on the smooth wood and staring each one of them in the eye. “You’ve all heard the rumors regarding the kind of criminal activities that the Montenegros have been involved in for years. He should be considered an enemy on several levels.”

“Agreed,” Kyle said quietly.

“It is something we cannot rule out. From what you’ve said, the woman must tell us all that she knows,” Markel stated as a directive. “She may be at the center of this.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “My mate… has her own mind and will. I doubt she will readily tell this council anything. Besides, she’s back in town for an entirely different reason.”

“Do you even have any idea what that is?” Gregor challenged.

I could feel the heat shifting within Markel, as if he were annoyed or perplexed. I shot him a look, studying his pensive face. No, he was remembering something. “No, but whatever it is, her search for something pushed her into leaving her job and coming here.”

All color drained from Markel’s face. “What is her name?”

“Vanessa Bridges,” I stated, my nerves on edge. The moment I noticed the slight shift in Markel’s eyes, I bristled. “Why? Do you know her?”

“No. Her last name sounds familiar. Nothing more.” Markel got up from the table, moving into the small kitchen.

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