his youth, so he guessed it was fair to presume he knew how the justice system worked.
He shrugged. 'She made an offer too good to refuse.' And at the very least, her presence by his side would maintain his wild reputation and stop suspicions being raised in the wrong quarters.
Rene snorted softly. 'Certainly looked like it, too.' Silver flashed in the short grass to the left of the victim's head. He shifted slightly, gaze narrowing. It was a hair, short and bristly.
'What color wolf was the victim?'
He felt rather than saw his brother's frown. 'From the red pack--why?'
'Then her attacker is silver--unless you were in hunter form when you came here.'
'No. But you were.'
'I shifted before I reached the body. I doubt this is from my coat.'
'It was one of our own?' Shock cracked his brother's deep voice.
'This hair would suggest so.'
'It could be a plant.'
'Could be.' Though he very much doubted it. The rangers already knew it was a silver wolf behind these attacks. Planting one hair didn't make any sense--even though a similar clue had been left at each of the other crime scenes.
Rene cleared his throat. 'Do you know this is the fourth attack in as many weeks?'
'Yeah, I'd heard as much.' He rose and studied the trees around them. There were three trails from the gate, but all of them led to Ripple Creek. Had the killer continued on to town, or had he simply turned back around and rejoined the dance? There were plenty of fountains inside the grounds where a bloody wolf might wash-- though if he were one of their own, slipping unseen into the mansion was a simple matter. Every Sinclair in the pack knew the locations of the secret passages--and there was one near every gate.
'We'd better get the rangers out here.'
Rene grunted. 'Damn horrible way to end the night's dance.'
Duncan raised an eyebrow. 'That's the first time anything has stopped you enjoying the moon fever.'
'Yeah, but this is the first time I've seen one of my chosen mates dead.' He shrugged. 'But then, I haven't the tasty morsel waiting for me that you have.'
A tasty morsel whose delights he could not enjoy again for a while yet. He had every intention of being here when the rangers arrived. 'Go call the cops. I'll go tend to my morsel.'
Rene stepped around the body and clapped a hand on Duncan's shoulder. 'Don't take long. I want you to back up my story, or the rangers are likely to throw my tail in jail. They're desperate for a quick arrest on this one.'
'Even rangers can't convict without evidence.' Though he'd known one or two in his time who were certainly willing to concoct it.
He returned through the gates and headed for the pavilion. Jasmine stirred the air, and he stopped abruptly, his gaze roaming the trees. She'd been here. Listening. Watching.
Why?
He remembered the fear in her eyes, the uncertainty. Remembered thinking she was not the usual type of woman found at these moon dances.
Why had she been around the west side of the mansion? It was far away from the dance, and generally considered out of bounds for all but those belonging to the Sinclair pack.
Something clenched deep in his gut. Disappointment, perhaps. Certainly anger.
He was being played.
Someone obviously suspected why he was here. What better way was there to keep an eye on him than to offer something even his jaded tastes could not resist? Neva was alluring, sensual, a wolf in the full peak of her sexual prowess, and yet oddly, almost innocently, unaware of that fact.
Anger surged through him. He'd taken the bait without thought. Moons, what a fool.
Still, it was a game that worked both ways, now that he was aware of it. Over the next couple of days, he could push their union to the extreme and wait for her to reach the breaking point. She would break, of that he was sure. Their one brief mating had confirmed that while she wasn't innocent, she was certainly inexperienced. Sooner or later she'd go running back to whoever was behind this, desperate to end the charade. And once she did, he'd have a suspect to follow.
He took a deep, calming breath, then continued on through the trees.
She was waiting near the pavilion steps, but her welcoming smile faded as he approached. He swallowed his anger, knowing he had to be careful. The Sinclairs might be strong telepaths, but the golden pack far outstripped even them. He couldn't give her the slightest hint he knew her game--not yet. Not until he'd made her desperate enough to run back to the man behind all this rather than away fr om them both.
And he had to admit, he was rather looking forward to the task. Rene was right--she was an extremely tasty morsel. He wondered what she was being paid to seduce him. It had better be a lot, because she was certainly going to earn her money over the next couple of days. 'Problems?' Her voice faltered, and fear touched her gaze as she backed away a step.
Perhaps he wasn't controlling his anger as well as he thought. 'Afraid so.'
He caught her arm, stopping her retreat, pulling her close. Her body molded against his, her flesh trembling, f lushed with heat. The musky scent of her desire spun around him, fueling the ache in his loins to greater heights. They'd certainly chosen their bait well--even knowing what she was, he still wanted her more than he'd wanted any wolf in his life.
He cupped a hand to her cheek, holding her gaze as his lips claimed hers. There was nothing gentle in this kiss. It was filled with the ferocity that burned through his body--a hungry, angry possession that took everything she was willing to give and more.
Her eyes widened, and her fear deepened, until it was something he could almost taste. Yet at the same time, the scent of her arousal intensified. She wanted him, even if she did fear him--or feared what he intended to do. He touched her, caressed her, made her burn with need. When he thrust deep, she moaned in pleasure, but this was a mating that had nothing to do with that emotion, and everything to do with anger and betrayal. It was hard and fast, a union in which he took but did not give. When he'd finished, he stepped back. She stared at him, her chest heaving, her lips swollen and red, body still flushed and quivering with unfulfilled desires. But it was the anger, the reproach, in her wonderful eyes that cut the deepest.
'Wait for me here,' he said curtly and walked away.
Neva clenched her fists and stared at his retreating back. It took all her willpower not to pick up the fallen tree branch near her feet and throw it at his stiff, uncaring spine.
In the space of ten minutes, he'd gone from a warm and generous lover to a detached, unfeeling rutting machine. A man who cared for nothing but his own needs. And she wasn't sure why.
Nor could she read his thoughts or taste his emotions to find out why. It was if a wall stood between them, a wall so high and wide she half-suspected even he had lost touch with his feelings. He was the first wolf she'd ever met whose mind she couldn't read, whose everyday emotions could snap so suddenly beyond even her skills, and it was more than a little scary. She had a bad feeling she needed to know what was going on in that man's mind. She rubbed her arms, but it did little to ease the chill racing across her skin. To think only a few moments ago she'd been worried about hungering for his touch so badly that she'd want to remain in this den of darkness. What a fool's thought that had turned out to be.
She wasn't about to wait here for more of the same. She may have agreed to be his for the remainder of the moon phase, but enough was enough for one night. With the discovery of the fourth victim, this place would soon be crawling with rangers. It was better she leave now, before anyone recognized her.
The last thing she wanted was one of them reporting her presence to her parents. That would cause a scene of atomic proportions. And they certainly wouldn't understand her reasons for coming here. They were old school and believed the dance should be saved until you'd found that one mate. But as much as she wanted to go home right now, she couldn't. Not until she'd taken a closer look at that body--before the rangers took away whatever clues there might be to find. It was doubtful they'd let her go unescorted into Savannah's office a second time.
She donned her skirts then resolutely turned and made her way back to the gate.
