Sadie Hart (6 page)

“God. I hope no one else.” The words came raw
from Lennox even as Ollie saw the truth in the ridgeback’s eyes.
There’d be another body. More bodies than either of them really
wanted to imagine.

The Hunter after all, was just getting warmed
up again.

Lennox scrubbed a hand over her face. “And I
don’t want him coming after you, either, Ol. That’s too much like
tempting fate.”

The thought of another moon, another
photograph of a girl who’d die on the next full moon was almost too
much. Ollie lifted a shaky hand to pinch the bridge of her nose.
She was tired of the smiles of women who’d die by the end of the
month, tired of making phone calls to people who’d lost loved ones.
Tired of it all.

“Some days you wonder why you chose to be a
Hound,” Lennox said, voice soft. Out of the corner of her eye,
Ollie saw Sawyer flinch.

“No.” Ollie shook her head. “Some days, I’m
exhausted, and I’m tired of losing, but I don’t rethink my job. I
don’t regret begging Brandt to send me to you.” She fixed her boss
a hard look. Determined. “He thinks he chose me, but I chose to
hunt him first. It’s just that right now he’s winning, and I hate
it.”

What she really wanted was to shoot
something. To watch the bullets tear through paper and imagine it
was the Hunter. “I hate it. But he’d still be killing whether I was
doing my job or not. I don’t wonder why I’m a Hound. I know why.
It’s to catch assholes like him.”

That made her boss smile. “Good. That’s what
I want you to remember. Because we are going to catch him.”

A Hound whistled from further up the field,
and the three of them turned to see a pair of lion-shifters
standing at the edge of the Enforcement tape, the men watching
Lennox with tired eyes. Ollie smiled. “How long have they been
waiting?”

“They drove. They didn’t want me running
around half-cocked after this bastard any more than they wanted you
to.” Lennox’s lips twitched in a small smile and Ollie grinned
back, her gaze drifting to the woman’s rounded middle.

She waited for her boss to say it, but she
didn’t. Fine. She’d ask first. “When are you going on leave?”

Lennox snorted. “When I’m too big to roll out
of bed without help? I’m pregnant, not an invalid.”

She touched the slightly round pooch of her
belly. “Besides. You can barely tell.”

“Yeah. Tell that to your men. They look like
they want to eat your Hounds for dragging you out here.” Lennox’s
lovers were lion-shifters, not exactly known for patience. And
they’d seen Lennox through a killer of her own, seen her nearly
die. Ollie was sure déjà-vu made it harder for them.

One glance around assured her there was
nothing more to do here. No reason to keep them waiting. Ollie took
a deep breath and started to head back down the field, her boss and
partner trailing after her. She was whipped, ready to crash, but
she still had a phone call to make, and an angry man to meet at the
morgue.

“They worry about you, too, you know,” Lennox
said softly.

“I’m a big girl. Haven’t you taught them
anything yet? Big girls can take care of themselves.” That drew a
laugh out of Lennox, a rich happy sound which, for the first time
that morning, made something seem bright. Hopeful. Ollie glanced at
the rounded belly, the miracle growing within. “Are you guessing
it’ll be a Rhodesian ridgeback or a lion?”

Either way, the kid was going to be a
shifter.

“I’ll take either,” Lennox said, leaning over
to kiss both men softly on their cheeks.

“Ridgeback,” Kanon said with a grin, the dark
circles under his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “Boy, though. Girls
are too much of a hassle.”

Tegan gave a grunt of agreement. “Especially
if they’re anything like their mother.”

“You both are ones to talk, considering we
met while I was trying to arrest one of you and threatening to
handcuff the other.”

Ollie shook her head at the banter, the way
both men dragged Lennox into hugs, first one and then the other.
“Take her home,” Ollie called as she strode away. When Lennox
looked ready to protest, she added, “I’ll handle the morgue, Sawyer
can wrap up here. Everything else can wait. The pack has processed
what it can.”

“You need sleep.”

“And I’ll get some. But the Sanctuary Falls
alpha deserves to know now rather than later.” And Claire Rawson’s
family deserved to know.

“You don’t have to be the one—”

But Ollie shook her head before Lennox could
finish. She wanted this. And something in the way Caine Morgan had
let her take control that night, had helped her, even after she
couldn’t tell him what he’d wanted to know. He wouldn’t appreciate
someone else calling him. More important, what little truth they
could reveal, she wanted to be the one to give it to him.

Even if it was only what he’d known all
along.

***

Caine stood outside the morgue, back braced
against the brick building. He hadn’t bothered to shave. Then
again, he hadn’t bothered to sleep. His back tensed as he watched
the car approach, the sleek black sedan sliding into the STE-marked
spot up front. He’d waited all night, phone in hand, knowing he’d
get the call today. Knowing he’d have to tell the Rawsons that
their daughter was dead.

Holly slipped out of the car, her wavy black
hair crammed back in a bun, curls sprouting from the up-do in a
wild, mad scientist look that, surprisingly, looked sexy as hell on
her. It was the look of a woman who’d been up as long as he had,
had been just as worried, and hating every minute of being useless.
Her steel-gray eyes met his, exhaustion mingling with defeat. Once
again, the Hunter had won.

“Thanks for meeting me here,” she said, and
he shrugged.

“Let’s just get this done and over with.” The
words came out harder than he’d meant, a growl mixed in them, but
she didn’t flinch at the rough, broken sound. Instead, her chin
dipped in a slight nod, her shoulders sagging under the weight of a
long night.

“I’m going to guess you want to be the one to
tell her family?”

“Yes.”

“I figured. She was your wolf.” Pain and
guilt smoldered in her eyes as she looked up at him. “I’m
sorry.”

There was more emotion in those two words
than Caine knew what to do with. Her voice was so rich with sorrow
it seemed to bleed with the pain. Regret left her normally
soothing, strong voice hollow. It had a barren sound, tinny, that
echoed around in his head. “You were there?”

Again.

She flinched and looked away. Another thing
she couldn’t tell him. Jesus Christ. What did he have to do to get
some information? What hadn’t she told him that might have saved
Claire? His hands fisted at his sides, muscles bunched with the
urge to throttle her, but Caine held himself back. “She was my
wolf.”

“I know. I’m sorry, we did all we could. I
know you want every last detail, but I can’t give you that. We hold
information back so we can weed through the wackos that call in
admitting to crimes they didn’t commit. We hold it back so the
killer doesn’t find out everything we know. It doesn’t help you,
but sooner or later it’ll help us catch this guy.”

Her eyes closed, shutting him out. She tilted
her head up towards the sky before she breathed the next words out.
“And yes, I wish we could have saved her.”

Holly hugged herself tightly, her knuckles
white as they gripped her biceps, and suddenly, the tough,
no-nonsense Enforcement Hound looked scared. Vulnerable. Those big,
blue-gray eyes opened and he saw the tears there, watched her turn
her head to the side as she tried to blink them away.

Christ. He hadn’t meant to make her cry.
Caine exhaled on heavily, his anger draining out of him. What was
she supposed to do? He stepped forward only to have her flinch
away, gray gaze slashing against his. A flicker of a warning.
“Look, I’m tired. I just wanted to be the one to give you this. Be
the one to tell you what we can.”

Because she couldn’t tell him what he wanted
to know.

Yeah, he got that. “Let me see her,
then.”

He followed Holly inside, the scent of fresh
brewed coffee greeting him at the door. It looked peaceful, the
mocha-colored walls inviting. Warm. Holly led him past the mahogany
chairs in the waiting room. Caine cringed. Nice of them to make
sure the families could wait in comfort before seeing their loved
ones on steel slabs. It sure as hell didn’t soften the blow.

Fighting the urge to snarl, Caine blocked it
all out, his gaze on the woman in front of him, the steady sway of
her rounded hips. Her hand trembled when she lifted it to swipe
back a stray, frazzled strand of hair.

“How long have you been up?”

A grim smile flashed over her face as she
looked back at him. “All night.”

The medical examiner greeted them as they
entered, the young woman no older than Holly. Long blonde hair
pulled back in a ponytail, she wore a square, white smock hung over
what would be a lean body underneath. Unlike Holly, this woman
looked like she’d seen a happy side of her pillow for most of the
night, her smile pleasant from a good night’s rest, and her
attitude fizzed with the coffee he could smell on her breath.

“Just got her in. I haven’t had much time to
clean her up.” The ME glanced his way and Caine peeled back his
lips in a silent snarl.

“I can handle blood.” Besides, if he gave
them time to clean Claire Rawson up, he might never know what had
happened. He turned to pin his attention on Holly, to demand she
let him have this when the Hound nodded, not even glancing his
way.

“He’ll be fine. I just want the final ID, and
he wants to give his pack closure. I’m sure the alpha can hold his
lunch.”

“I can.”

With a nod, the ME led them over to the cold,
gray slab and pulled back the sheet covering the small body
underneath. Claire’s soft face stared up at the ceiling. Blood and
dirt were smeared over her cheek and he could smell the rancid rot
of silver in her blood. A growl trickled out of him before he could
stop it and he jerked his head to the side, glancing up at the
sharp glare of a fluorescent light.

Claire stank of wolf, hers and the killer’s,
of silver, and Holly.

“You were there,” and this time when he said
it, it wasn’t a question. He fixed his gaze on her and let her see
the flash of fangs. Knowing that she couldn’t tell him what had
happened only galled him more. Claire had been his responsibility.
“It’s her.”

He spun on his heel and headed back down the
hall. The coffee-and-cream colored walls were supposed to be
inviting, framed pictures of landscapes dotting the hall.
Everything to make the place feel peaceful, but it didn’t diminish
his rage or grief.

The heat kicked in, humming through the
vents. Caine clenched his teeth to ward off a howl and headed for
the door. That bastard had shot her and let her lie there while the
silver ate at her. And Holly had been there. She’d seen it. Once
again, she hadn’t stopped him, either.

“Mr. Morgan,” she called after him, but he
ignored her. She’d gotten what she needed, so he didn’t need to
stick around. “Caine.”

He stopped on a growl, spinning to face her,
and was surprised to see her shoulders sag, her eyes close. “I’m
sorry.”

He’d never been so sick of those words in his
life. They didn’t fix anything, didn’t change anything, and
obviously sorrow didn’t do a damn towards helping him figure out
what had happened.

“For what exactly?” Another growl edged his
words, dark and fierce. The rumble vibrated up his chest and filled
him until his whole body shook with the urge to hit something. Kill
something. The wolf paced, suddenly feeling trapped under his skin.
The animal wanted out, to run back to the pack and make sure
everyone else was safe. Instead, Caine forced the animal back
down.

“For not getting there in time.” She swayed
under the force of her admission, and he stepped closer, his hands
fitting easily around her upper arms as he tugged her up against
him. She stiffened, a shocked gasp slipping from her, but he curled
a hand around the small of her back and held her there. His palm
fit against her back, a small comfort.

Damn, but her vulnerability kicked him
straight in the gut. The way her steel eyes went soft, silver,
almost crystalline with unshed tears. It woke every protective gene
in his body. Werewolf or not, alpha or not, the damsel in distress
look brought out everything that was male in him. Instinct took
over, and he wanted nothing more than to plaster her against the
length of his body, wrap her in his arms, and hold off the
world.

Her hand slid to his chest, and his blood
heated under the tentative touch, making every muscle in his body
go red hot and his balls contract. Her fingers tensed and Caine
knew before she could press down that she was going to push away,
pull back. Like hell. A growl roused from him, not the angry snarl
of his wolf, but the rumble of a man not about to be denied. The
urge to protect her, just like he did his pack, was there waiting
for him to give in. He hadn’t saved Claire, but he wanted to help
Holly.

“Join the fucking club,” he said on a sharp
bark of sound that erased the tension in her shoulders. Suddenly
she wasn’t trying to pull away, but was leaning into him, her small
hand clutching his shirt.

Holly pressed her face into his chest. A deep
breath pressed the swell of her breasts tight against him, and she
shuddered on an exhale. “You don’t understand.”

Only because you won’t tell me everything.
The muscle in his jaw leapt. He couldn’t fix the problem if she
didn’t give him all the details. All he could do right now was
stand here and hold her, pretend that something as simple and
insignificant as a hug between strangers could fix anything.