“Your house is still a crime scene, man.” Worry hardened Michael’s face. “It’s taped off and the cops are probably patrolling the area.”
Lucas laughed softly. “Like a few human cops are going to stop me.”
Like anything would stop him.
Dane had to keep his distance from the coyotes. If he came within a mile of them, they’d catch his scent. So he pulled his motorcycle to the curb, hid in the shadows, and used his night-vision binoculars to watch the bastards.
He counted ten of them. The youngest was a kid, barely looked eighteen. The oldest seemed to be skating close to forty. Two women were in the group—but he couldn’t tell if they were coyote shifters or humans.
Their base was a ranch-style house, one that was fairly secluded in a patch of woods. Nothing fancy, because the coyotes wouldn’t have wanted to draw attention to themselves. It wasn’t as easy to kill when attention was on you.
After a few moments, all of the coyotes went in the house. He lowered the binoculars and pulled out his phone. Three seconds later, he had Lucas on the line. “2408 Wyler Road.”
“Any signs of Rafe?”
Lucas had briefed them all on Sarah’s story, and Dane knew Rafael Santiago. Their paths had crossed once in Chicago. “No. No signs . . .” He inhaled, caught only the scent of coyote, “of any other shifter.”
“Keep your eyes on ’em. If you see any sign of a wolf . . .”
“I’ll report right away.”
“Do that. And watch your back.”
He always did. Dane tucked the phone into his pocket. It was going to be one damn long night. But maybe the coyotes would oblige him and produce the wolves—then he could have some ass-kicking fun with his pack.
A twig snapped behind him. Dane didn’t glance back. He kept his gaze on the house. Ass-kicking fun. Looked like he’d get that good time sooner than he’d thought. His claws pushed through the tops of his fingertips. The wild scent of shifter filled his nose.
So did the lush scent of woman.
“It’s really not my style to attack from behind.” Her voice floated to him. Soft, sexy.
Interesting.
He spun around. She smiled at him, a flash of white teeth and sexy red lips. Small, curved, and tempting, the pretty redhead stood just in front of a line of thick trees. The moon shone down on her, illuminating her pale skin.
“It’s not my style,” she said again, and her gaze darted just over Dane’s shoulders. “But it is his.”
And a freight train slammed into him.
To appease Michael, Lucas waited until the patrol car’s tail-lights disappeared around the corner, then he jumped out of the SUV and headed for his house. Sarah moved just as quickly, hurrying out and sticking to the shadows as she headed for the house on Bryton Road.
The scents of the night hit him. Gasoline. Alcohol. Stale cigarettes. And blood. Lots of blood.
He slipped under the yellow police tape and stalked toward the porch steps. With his enhanced vision, he could still see the giant bloodstain that marred the wood. The poor bastard had bled out fast.
Guess that was a good thing.
Some prey deserved to suffer, some didn’t.
“I’m still not scenting wolf,” Michael muttered from behind them. “Least not any wolves that don’t belong here.”
’Cause he let some of his pack visit—very rarely, but sometimes.
“Maybe . . . maybe the attacker blocked his scent,” Sarah said quietly, near the porch but with her face carefully averted from the steps. “It is possible, you know.”
Yeah, he knew. He’d blocked his scent with herbs a few times when he didn’t want the coyotes to know that he was hunting. But . . .
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeper. So many scents. Some old, some faint. Others fresher, stronger.
Sweeter.
His eyes opened and, very slowly, Lucas turned his head to stare at Sarah. She’d wrapped her arms around her body, as if to keep warm. But it wasn’t a cold night. Far from it.
“Looks like the crime-scene guys from the LAPD did a good sweep of this place,” Michael said, not seeming to pay them any attention. “Can’t even find cigarette butts on the ground.”
“John didn’t smoke,” she said at once.
Lucas’s nostrils flared. “Someone did. I can still smell the ash.” But the evidence had been removed.
Because he was watching her so closely, Lucas saw her flinch. Interesting.
“Time to pay a visit to Marley,” he said.
“What?” Michael spun around. “Aw, hell, you still got that demon playing watchdog for you?”
Sarah’s brows pulled low. “Marley?”
He caught her hand. “Come on.” No sense going inside. The dead guy had never made it past the porch.
They’d parked the SUV down the deserted street, but he didn’t head back to it. Instead, he cut through the thin line of trees and snaked to the left, toward the old, rundown house that bordered his strip of property. That place was his, too, though no one would ever be able to find a record that said so.
He’d bought both places because he liked his privacy and they were the only two houses on the street. Yeah, he liked privacy, but he also liked protection. That was where Marley came in.
He didn’t bother knocking when he bounded onto the sagging porch, he just kicked the door in.
“Lucas!” Sarah’s horrified whisper.
An old woman spun to face him, her hair stark white and her face etched with deep lines. She shuffled toward them, her steps small and mincing. “What do you—why are you here?” Beady eyes swept the group.
He growled. “Cut the damn act, Marley.”
The old woman vanished in an instant. Demons and their glamour. Those skilled at cloaking magic could project any image they wanted to the world. Marley transformed in front of them, the white hair darkening to black, the deep wrinkles slipping away until smooth skin remained. Another mask? Probably, but it was the one Marley liked to use the most.
“Why are you here?” She asked again, glaring. “You said I’d be left alone, Lucas. I did my part. I burned those bastards to ash, but you said I’d be left alone.”
Ah, another deal. A demon who’d been desperate to slip away from the world and a wolf who’d needed vengeance. Their agreement had been fairly satisfactory.
“There a particular reason you let those ass**les haul me away, huh, Marley?” He stepped closer and the demon didn’t back up. Surprising. For a while, Marley had backed up when anyone came close. That’s why she’d wanted to hide in the woods. To stay far away from everyone and everything.