'At first, Malcolm wanted nothing to do with Clay. But as he grew, my father interpreted his strong wolf side as…' He paused, as if searching for a word.
'A violent streak?'
'Sadistic, even, which I'm sure any psychiatrist would say was projection. Malcolm liked to kill. There's no other way to put it. He wanted to train Clay to fight. I knew that as long as I supervised, it was what Clay needed. Clay hated Malcolm, but he was astute enough, even at that age, to take what he could from the lessons. As for a father-son bond, it never happened.'
'Is that all your father wanted?'
'I'm sure he hoped to turn Clay against me. Malcolm vacillated between ignoring me and planning petty revenges. He hated being beholden to me.'
'Beholden?'
'His father left Stonehaven and all its assets to me. While my grandfather intended to protect me, the result was that I was then responsible for Malcolm. I had to dole out an allowance and hide his killings, because if the Pack found out, he'd be banished, and become an even greater threat.'
I was silent for a moment, then said, 'That's the real problem, isn't it? You're tired of being responsible for others.'
He looked over sharply.
'Your father. Clay. The Pack. Elena after Clay bit her. You've always been responsible for others, and now that you're hoping to retire from Alpha-hood, the last thing you need is a relationship with someone else you might need to protect.'
'No. That's not true, Jaime. Clay and the Pack were responsibilities I wanted. Even with Elena and my father, there were other options available. I like being responsible. I like helping. I like protecting. And I'm sure that says something less than admirable about my character, but I can't help it. If anything, with you, I struggle not to overdo it. I want to give you advice, to help you, and I know that's not what you need from me.'
'Sometimes it is,' I said softly.
A crooked smile. 'In small doses, yes. If I gave free rein to my impulses, you'd run screaming the other way.' He eased back in his seat, smile fading. 'I am a leader, Jaime. I like to be in control and be responsible for others, and I take that responsibility very seriously. That means I don't take chances. Ever.'
I met his gaze. 'Well, maybe it's time to start.'
A long pause. Then he murmured, under his breath, so softly I had to read his lips to hear it, 'Maybe it is.'
BY THE time we returned to the house, it was past midnight. Jeremy and I snuck around to the garden.
I sat under a gnarled dwarf tree, the long twisted branches tickling my arms, while Jeremy… got ready. Overhead the nearly full moon brightened the garden to twilight, casting a yellow glow. Some night bird or owl gave a mournful cry, raising the hairs on my neck. The faint smell of wood smoke drifted past.
'Nice night for grave digging,' Eve whispered as she sat beside me on the bench. 'Did you know you have a ghostly audience already?'
I glanced around. Tansy and Gabrielle were almost hidden behind a fountain. Tansy lifted her fingers in a sheepish wave. I waved back, but my stomach clenched. Was she still waiting for me to talk to her?
'There are more,' Eve said. 'Probably a dozen of them. They seem to be trying to stay out of your way. Just curious. But if you want me to shoo them off-'
'No, they're fine.'
She tilted her head, hearing the
'Thanks.'
A black wolf stepped from the shadows into the moonlight. He moved slowly, as if wary of startling me. I suppose if there's any sight worth being spooked by, it's a 180-pound wolf in a residential garden at night. But Jeremy in wolf form never frightened me. Not even the first time I'd seen him. A changed werewolf looks like a real wolf, but their overall size stays the same, as do their hair and eye color. I'd taken one look in those dark eyes and I'd known it was Jeremy.
He padded over to me and nudged my hand, his nose as cold and wet as any dog's. I laughed at that and he gave me a look, but I didn't share. Comparing a werewolf to a dog might be considered an insult. But as I stood, I did let my hand brush his fur. It felt like… fur. Coarse on top, soft underneath.
I turned to ask where we should start, and was struck by a sudden thought. 'You can understand me, can't you? Do you need me to speak slower or louder…?'
A soft snort and shake of his head. The movement was awkward, as if he wasn't accustomed to 'human' communication in wolf form. How did they communicate? Did they understand barks? Did some canine language interpreter click on when they changed form?
'So I guess we should do this systematically, one bed at a time, starting-' I looked up to see his tail disappearing into the shadows. 'Or I can just follow you.'
CADAVER DOG
FOR THE NEXT HOUR, Jeremy sniffed gardens, trying to find the unmistakable scent of a decaying corpse. Harder than it sounds because most of the beds were raised within retaining walls, so he had to hop up or-in a few cases-take a running leap.
He stayed at the edge of the gardens and leaned in to get closer to the center, ducking around bushes, picking his way past plants. I erased paw prints as we went.
We made it through about half of the garden when I noticed Tansy and Gabrielle watching.
'Is this about those poor trapped children?' Gabrielle asked as I waved them over.
I nodded. 'We're hoping to find a body, so we can…' I considered how best to explain it. 'Find the people responsible and figure out what they did so I can free the spirits. He-' I waved at Jeremy. 'The, uh, dog is specially trained for that sort of thing.'
'A cadaver dog.'
'Right. But not, you know, officially or anything. Just a friend of a friend knew someone who trained them and let me borrow this one.'
'Shouldn't he be on a lead?' Tansy asked.
'This one works better off-leash. He's very well trained.'
'Huh. Well, it looks like he may have found something.'
I leaned past Tansy to see Jeremy gingerly raking back the dirt with his claws. He took another sniff, caught a noseful of dirt and sneezed. Then he resumed his careful digging.
A smell wafted up, strong enough for me to recognize. The stink of a rotting corpse. Jeremy lowered his muzzle into the hole and flipped something out. Even before I got close, I could see tiny stick-like bones and needlelike teeth. A mole or large mouse.
'Eww,' Tansy said. 'You'd better grab that, before he eats it.'
I swallowed a laugh. 'I made sure he was well fed before we started.'
Jeremy looked at me, as if figuring out what we were talking about. He rolled the tiny corpse back into the hole, this time with his paw.
When he started covering it, I hurried forward. 'I'll get that. You just keep- I mean, go, boy. Work. Sniff.'
Jeremy rolled his dark eyes, leapt from the garden and headed toward the next one as I refilled his hole.
'Here comes Pete,' Tansy said. 'Wonder why he left his post? Uh-oh, he looks worried.'
A gray-haired man hurried down the path, his broad face gathered in concern.
'Where is he?' Gabrielle asked.
'Inside the house. Upstairs I think.' Tansy looked at me. 'Some of us took up posts, keeping an eye out. This looked like something you wouldn't want to be found doing, so we were keeping watch.'
'Oh? That's very thoughtful. Thank you.'
