That was going to be a problem. When I’d heard Savannah screaming earlier, I hadn’t bothered to take my clothes off to shift—I’d just let them shred. I needed something to wear before I shifted so that I wasn’t running around the fair stark naked. I’d never admit it to my wolf, but there were times I envied regular shifters.
I passed a vender selling clothes. With a snap of my jaws, I yanked a pair of trousers off the rack and left the merchant woman screaming bloody murder behind. My wolf didn’t care about ideas like property, just territory.
I slipped out of sight behind a tent and shifted back. My bones snapped and muscles stretched, my jaws shrank, and my fangs retracted. I gritted my teeth and gave a low growl. Shifting had never hurt like this.
Fucking LaSalles and their wolfsbane.
I snarled as I buttoned the trousers.
Human again, it was time to find the damned woman. Even with thousands of people milling around the fair, I could smell her. That was surprising, but clearly, the danger had attuned my human senses somehow.
Despite the rampaging wolves and demons, the fair hadn’t descended into complete chaos. Magic-Siders were reasonably accustomed to demonic outbreaks and haywire magic. It was just a natural part of having a population made of spellcasters, shifters, vampires, demons, devils, and a dozen other magical species. Shit went crazy pretty often. It was a miracle that the city was still standing.
But there was no doubt about where everything had gone down. Blue lights flashed off the trees, and Order agents were swarming everywhere. One demon and one wolf were dead. Their accomplices would be long gone by now, including the she-wolf who had originally attacked Savannah.
We’d been so fucking close, both to triumph and disaster. Once again, Savannah Caine had gotten very lucky.
When I reached the flashing lights, I encountered a forlorn scene. Agitated cops. Miserable wolves. And in the midst of it all, the traumatized LaSalle woman, sitting on a curb.
She was a magnet for disaster, but I was relieved she was okay. I would do what was needed to protect her, but after what she’d done to us, I didn’t feel one ounce of pity for her current predicament.
Well, perhaps a little pity. Three days ago, she’d had no idea that werewolves or demons were real. Tonight, she’d been nearly killed or abducted by both.
Savannah leapt to her feet as I approached. “That was you—the gray wolf that killed the man!”
Her eyes darted to my bloodied chest, and heat rose in her cheeks.
“The wolf that saved your ass,” I snarled. “After which you sprayed me with wolfsbane!”
She bared her teeth almost like a wolf would. “I wasn’t sure it was you! And it looked like you were about to attack me! You were snarling and had blood dripping from your goddamned mouth.”
“I would never hurt you, but apparently, that doesn’t go both ways.”
She stepped up, but three cops intervened and pulled us apart. One started grilling me on the shifter that I had put down. What a disaster.
Sam had partially regained her senses. She was on the phone with my lawyer, by the sound of it. Thankfully, the dead man was a shifter, and we were subject to pack law. Still, there would be paperwork and interviews and reports, but they knew better than to restrain me.
It didn’t matter. The Order was going to just squeeze us harder after this.
I glared at the body. I hadn’t meant to kill him. But Savannah had been in danger, and I wasn’t sure if more wolves were going to attack, or more demons. I’d made a quick decision—the wrong one—and we’d missed our chance to get answers. Now there was no way to get information out of him without a necromancer, and that was a line no one in the entire city was willing to cross. Not even the LaSalles, monsters that they were.
My nostrils flared. Fear.
I spun and spotted Savannah. Though flanked by two cops, she was as white as a ghost. Now what?
Leaving my own interrogator mid-interview, I headed over.
A cop waved the unmarked canister in her face. “This is wolfsbane. It’s highly illegal, and we’ll be confiscating it. How did you get it?”
She looked from one cop to the other. “I had no idea! I thought it was mace or some kind of pepper spray. I’m new to town…I didn’t know any of this was real until a few nights ago! What the hell is wolfsbane?”
The cop clipped the bottle to his belt. “Wolfsbane is a chemical weapon and riot control agent. It is illegal for civilian use. I’m going to ask you once again, where did you get this?”
She shrugged. “Found it. Someone dropped it at the fair. I’d lost my mace, so I picked it up and kept it.”
The second cop stepped up in her face. “This will go easier on you if you tell us the truth. Who gave it to you?”
The woman had authority problems and looked about ready to slap him, so I stepped in. “Her family.”