“No.” Gwen frowned. “I’d love to know what he’s getting out of the relationship with her, though.”
“Maybe we need to ask him when we stop him.” She glanced at the address, noting that the restaurant was the one Ethan and she had stopped at yesterday. “We don’t have any silver bullets.”
“The silver daggers will work just as well.” Gwen hesitated. “But be careful. This wolf is one of the bitten, and they’re usually mean. By all means try to question him about his role in all this is, but make it fast, or you could be in trouble.”
Kat nodded and tried to ignore the fear of what might happen. Finishing her coffee, she rose. “I’ll mix up some truth herbs and see if I can slip them into his drink.”
Gwen nodded. “Just don’t push too hard, even if you do get them into him. If you make him suspicious, you’ll be in danger.”
She’d be in danger anyway, and they both knew it. “What about Ethan?”
“The moon fever has him feeling a might territorial, and that could prove disastrous in this situation.”
Because he’d attack rather than question. And as much as this werewolf deserved to die, they needed the answers he might provide. “So what are you going to tell him when he gets back?”
“That what you do on your own free time is none of his damn business.”
She gave her grandmother a long look. “What possible good is telling him that going to do?”
“Nothing at all. I just want to see his reaction.”
“You’re a bad woman, you know that?”
“And enjoying every moment of it.” Gwen grinned, but there was a seriousness in her green eyes as she said, “He needs to be shaken, Kat. Or this could end very badly.”
“This case, or him and me?”
“Both.”
She had a feeling it would end badly between Ethan and her no matter how much stirring her grandmother did. His actions made it all too clear that he really only wanted sex from her. Which was a damn shame, because there were definitely signs that there could be a whole lot more.
She glanced at her watch. It wouldn’t take long to fly down to the restaurant, but even so, she had to get moving. It was past four, and dusk was closing in fast. “I’ll change and get going.”
“Just be careful. And don’t let the aura of the wolf overwhelm you.”
“I won’t.” She knew her voice sounded as uncertain as she felt.
ETHAN SAT ON HIS HAUNCHES AND STUDIED THE SMALL cabin in the clearing below. The baby-fresh scent had faded a good ten minutes back, but he’d continued to hunt around, desperate to find it again.
The only thing he had found was this cabin. It looked like nothing out of the ordinary. Just a rundown old shack that appeared to have been abandoned for years.
Yet the smell of death hung so heavily in the air it almost choked him.
He sniffed the breeze, trying to discern if there were any other scents layering the air. Nothing beyond decay and the faint tang of balsam.
He rose and padded through the trees. There was no life, no movement to be seen anywhere. Even the quiet songs of the birds had faded away. Keeping to the deepening shadows as much as possible, he headed down to the cabin. Still no sound, no sign that anything living had been near this place in the last few months. Not even spiders—though there were plenty of webs to prove they’d once been here. He shifted shape, pressing his back against the rough-hewn walls as he edged toward the grimy rear window. And discovered the cause for the smell.
Dead men. Living dead men.
There had to be at least ten of them sleeping on the floor. He shifted position, trying to see into the shadows filling the corners. Janie wasn’t there. He couldn’t see her, couldn’t smell her. But if these things were working for the woman snatching the kids, then maybe all he had to do was sit here and wait for either the killer to show up or these things to lead him to the mara. And Janie.
He had nothing to lose by trying.
Nothing except time spent with Kat. Unease stirred, and the sudden desire to race back to her caught him by surprise. Because it wasn’t motivated by the moon fever, but rather a surge of fear for her safety. And though he had the bruises to prove she was more than able to take care of herself, the certainty that she was flying into trouble settled like a weight in his gut and refused to budge.
He frowned and shifted shape, making his way back to the trees. But as the shadows mottling the clearing became one and the sky drifted toward night, the feeling that Kat needed help became a certainty he could not ignore.
He rose and ran for their cabin. Night had settled in by the time he arrived, and the wind was as cold as his heart. He entered their rooms, but knew from the lingering scents that Kat hadn’t been there for at least two hours. He walked into the other cabin.