"You do so drink," I said, when we were out the door. "Why didn't you tell her the truth?"
"What, that I'm moon-sworn and unavailable? Why spoil her day?"
Shock rippled through me and I stopped, ripping my arm from his grasp. "When did you go through the moon ceremony?"
Something flitted through his eyes, and I had a vague suspicion he'd just said something he shouldn't have. But why would he want to keep something like that a secret?
Why was I so damn suspicious of everything?
"You can't remember anything right now, so is it really surprising you don't remember the ceremony?" he said awkwardly.
"So I was there?"
"Yeah." He grabbed my arm again and walked me - quite forcibly - toward the car. "Now, let's get home, get you cleaned up, and then call the doc."
Let's not, I thought, and pulled my arm from his grasp again before stepping back. Damn it, he was my brother. Surely to God I could trust him? But I didn't, and I didn't know why, and it was just so frustrating that I wanted to scream. I drew in a breath to try and calm the sudden, angry shaking, and that's when I smelled it.
Blood.
There was blood on the wind.
A lot of it.
Which could only mean that someone nearby was dead.
Chapter 8
I swung around to follow the scent and sidestepped Evin's attempt to grab my arm. "Can't you smell that?"
"It's blood. So what?" He fell in beside me, his expression none to happy.
"It's human blood," I corrected. "Someone's dead. Or about to be."
"Hanna, we're not cops. This is not our business."
"Well, I'm making it mine." I frowned up at him. "What if we walk away and the victim could still have been saved?"
He tried grabbing my arm again, but I slapped his hand away. He growled in frustration and said, "This is not smart - "
"Damn it, Evin, if I can save someone, I will. I'm more than a little fed up with the other option."
Confusion flicked through his expression, which I suppose was understandable, given I wasn't entirely sure what I was talking about, either.
I followed my nose into a side street that was little more than dust, and past several houses. Ahead lay a grassed paddock. A small dam filled with muddy-looking water dominated the middle of the paddock and, beyond it, there was a stand of scrubby-looking wattle trees and shrubs. The blood scent was coming from that direction.
Evin's steps slowed. "Hanna, we really should get the cops."
"Then do it." I walked on.
He muttered something under his breath and dragged his phone out of his pocket, but continued to follow me nonetheless.
"Cathie?" he said, his voice seeming to echo across the overheated air. "It's Evin again. Look, we've scented blood in the paddocks behind the station. You might want to get either Harris or Mike out here."
I tuned him out, my gaze sweeping the ground. There wasn't any sign of a fight that I could see, and no indication of either recent tire tracks or footprints. Of course, there was also no reason that there should be. Just because this was the most logical way for pedestrians to come if they were heading for the few houses dotted beyond this paddock didn't mean whoever was lying either dead or near dead in those trees had actually walked this way.
I passed the dam and switched my gaze to the trees. The scent of blood was so strong my nose twitched, but I couldn't yet see a body. But blood dribbled down the trunk of one of the nearest wattles, gleaming wetly in the moonlight.
Evin's footsteps faltered. "Jesus, Hanna - "