"Ashe?" Winkler's voice was soft.
"She got James Johnson killed," Ashe said.
"Dawn?"
"Yeah. Made up some story that she wanted to see him about Randy. She knew Randy kept in touch with James. They were best friends." Ashe stopped stroking the medallions and dropped his hand.
"She got past the barrier?"
"After she lied to James. Paul Harris wasn't the only one involved with the Elemaiya. He was only involved with the Dark side. Dawn was feeding information to both sides, through Josiah Dunnigan at the time."
"Not good. Why did she want James dead?"
"She wanted information from him. He refused. She called the Elemaiya, who'd followed her inside the barrier. James knew they were trouble and tried to run to Marcus, to let him know we were under attack. Instead of challenging him herself, Dawn Smith sent those two Dark Elemaiya after him. Watched while they killed him, too. The Elemaiya went to Mr. Harris afterward and told him that James had seen them accidentally and was running to tell Marcus, so they had to kill him. Mr. Harris told them to dump the body behind our house, to make it look like Dad or one of the vampires was involved. When Mr. Harris got caught, he gave us what he thought was the truth. He never knew Dawn was in it, more than he was."
"But you were supporting Randy's cause through all this."
"Because Randy didn't know about his mother. I didn't know about his mother, either, until just before we got Josiah. Things started coming to me, then. I was hoping, when she didn't participate in Josiah's attempted takedown, that she'd had a change of heart. That obviously wasn't the case."
"The Grand Master is coming tomorrow, to sit in while she's questioned. I'll pass this information to him, so he can ask about it, too."
"James' dad may want the execution."
"Will it be all right if he takes it?"
"Yeah."
"She keeps talking about a devil who showed up in Chicago to keep her from shooting Sara."
"I don't know much about that. Couldn't see it with these," Ashe brushed fingers across the medallions again. "Must have been too powerful for them to get the images."
"My question is this—how and why did he show up?"
"Mr. Winkler, I can't really explain that right now."
* * *
"Your mother has been captured. You will not interfere," Nathan placed compulsion. "You will also refrain from discussing this with anyone except those from the community."
"May I see her?" Randy's voice trembled.
"Ask Marcus."
"You may visit her once," Marcus agreed. He'd stood behind Nathan while compulsion was placed. "Tomorrow morning. Come at ten."
"Thank you." Randy sounded defeated. "I'll stay here tonight, if that's all right."
"Stay as long as you want," Nathan said before Marcus could interfere or say otherwise.
* * *
"I'm looking for Zeke Tanner," Craig Keller, former cook for William Winkler, had a gun pressed to his neck as he stood uncomfortably next to Hutch.
"Why you want to see him?" Hutch growled next to Craig's ear.
"Got tired of running after Winkler and the Grand Master, if you want the truth. Those two go around, sniffing shifter butt all the time."
"That's exactly how I feel." Zeke Tanner walked into his study, skirting the white buffalo taking up the majority of space beside his desk. He sat down before carefully studying the werewolf Hutch had brought to him. "Why do you want to see me?" he asked.
"Want to go to work for a real werewolf," Craig muttered.
"You think I'm a real werewolf?"
"Yeah."
"What are you willing to do for me?"
"Anything."
"Willing to kill William Winkler for me?"
"Oh, yeah."
* * *
"Bear, I've made as many contacts as I can. Important shifters from all over the country." Opal informed Bear by cell phone. "We can be there next weekend. They're all interested."
"How many?" Bear sat at his desk at Star Cove combined, thumbing through invoices while he spoke with Opal.
"More than a hundred. Have you heard from Kerry and Thurmon?"
"Yeah. They have around fifty, each. With my choices and the shifters from Star Cove, we'll have more than three hundred. I contacted shifters from the other communities like this one, and they want in."
"Is that enough?" Opal asked.
"I think so. We've never had that many together at once. The school auditorium is big enough, barely, to hold all of us."
"Have you cleared it through Marcus DeLuca?"
"I went over his head and cleared it with the Grand Master. Marcus doesn't like it, but he'll have to deal. If we're lucky, we might have the basics hammered out in three or four days."
"I hope that happens. Will we make South Texas our base of operations?" Opal asked.
"I would prefer it, since this is where I work, but I'm willing to consider options."
* * *
"Matt, do you have anything?"
"I was contacted by Rockland, formerly Hancock, who explained the problem. We can't backtrack on that dead vampire's trail—it's cold. If Wildrif is making the turn to vampire somewhere, there's little chance of us finding him. New York is a really big place to search."
"This is crazy," Winkler muttered. "We don't need Wildrif as a vampire. We couldn't control Wildrif as three-quarters human."
"All I can say is if he makes the turn and shows up on the radar, we have to kill on sight. No waiting to question, we need him dead."
"Agreed."
* * *
Wlodek, Head of the Vampire Council, dismissed Charles from his study with a nod. He'd given Charles plenty of assignments to keep him busy. Waiting for Charles's footsteps to recede, Wlodek pulled a key from his pocket and opened a locked desk drawer. Pulling out a framed photograph, he stared at the images.
The woman who'd appeared in his office had been quite brusque and businesslike as she'd lambasted him for his unfeeling treatment of Aedan Evans and his family. Wlodek thought to defend himself. Found he couldn't move from his chair. And then the woman presented him with the photograph. Wlodek had blinked at it in astonishment.
The woman in the photograph was beautiful in a youthful, perky kind of way, with short, curly blonde hair and a lovely smile. She stood in sunlight on the wharf in San Francisco, where little had changed through the years. What shocked Wlodek to his core, however, was the image of the one standing beside her. It was a photograph of him. Wlodek never allowed himself to be photographed. He knew this could not be. Yet it was. In the photograph, an almost-smile played about his lips as he held the blonde close to his side.