“You see him every weekend,” Desandra said. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Because I don’t want him to think I suspect him.”

“But you do.”

“No, I don’t. But other people might and if it ever comes up, I want to have all my facts ready. If I have to defend him, I need to be able to honestly say where he was at the time of the murder. If you tell me he was home, I believe you. I just need you to be sure we can prove it.”

Desandra sighed again. “Was it eaten? Haywood’s body?”

“They took his heart, but no.”

“Well, there’s your answer. We both know what my son is. He also knows what he is. We raised him well. He’s a smart kid. He has no interest in power or turning into a monster. He spent Thursday at home doing what he usually does, which is reading old comic books and listening to music. There are half a dozen people besides me and Miladin who can confirm this.”

“Good.”

Desimir had nothing to do with it. No matter what he turned into, his primary magic was that of a shapeshifter. Lyc-V left a magic trail a mile long, and it colored all other magic a person might have. Years ago, before I left, Curran fed on divine beasts to gain more power and save Kate from death. He’d been a hair away from true divinity and his magic was still green. The creature that killed Pastor Haywood was golden silver.

“I know mothers don’t know everything, but I don’t see him doing this. He is a thirteen-year-old boy. Can you picture him smashing through a skylight, ripping apart a holy man he’d never met, and digging out his heart?”

“No,” Nick said. “Even if he turned, there are easier targets. He could hunt homeless in the Warren and nobody would know for years.”

Desandra traced his jaw with her fingertips. “Then why did you ask?”

“Ferara is sniffing around this case.”

Desandra collapsed onto a pillow, her arms in the air. “Of course he is.”

“Do you think he knows about Desimir?”

“If he does, Andrea or Raphael told him. Kate would never. Neither would Doolittle or the bears.”

She was right. Besides Curran, I was the closest person to Kate, and I had no idea what the hell they were talking about. This was clearly Pack business, and at least a dozen people knew, but somehow everyone who came back from that trip managed to keep this secret. Curiosity was killing me.

“Does Jim know?” Nick asked.

“I imagine he does.” A low snarl reverberated in Desandra’s throat. “He was the chief of security at the time. Curran would have told him.”

“So, this could be coming from the top or from the boudas.”

“Jim and I have never had a problem. We have our disagreements, but he isn’t petty. If he suspected something, he would’ve given it to the rats.”

Clan Rat ran the Pack’s security.

“You know Jim,” Desandra continued. “He does everything by the book, with a paper trail and receipts. No, this is coming from the boudas.”

“Ascanio could be acting on his own. He’s ambitious,” Nick mused.

Desandra grimaced. “There’s the understatement of the year.”

“If Desimir was responsible and Ascanio found the proof, would he try blackmail, or would he bring it to Jim and try to remove you?”

A golden sheen rolled over Desandra’s irises. Her hand flexed on the pillow as if it had claws. “I don’t know exactly what his game is, but I’ll find out.”

A chill dashed down my spine. Nope, she hadn’t mellowed. Not even a bit. Ascanio wasn’t stupid. Why would he screw with her?

Nick leaned to the side, pulled a piece of paper out of something I couldn’t see, and held it out to Desandra. “Smell this.”

She grinned. “Oh baby, such inventive come-ons you have.”

Nick rolled his eyes.

Desandra plucked the paper from his fingers and sniffed it. “Why am I smelling this?”

“A woman showed up at my office. This is a form she filled out. She has a badge that dictates that I assist her in every way possible.”

“Mmmm, kinky. How do I get one of those?”

“You have to render a great service to the Order.”

Desandra grinned and smelled the paper again. “Oh, I’ve done that. Many, many times.”

Nick smiled. Oh my gods.

“Have you smelled this scent before?”

Desandra shook her head. “No. I would remember. Why?”

Nick frowned. “There’s something familiar about her. I can’t put my finger on it but…”

“Keep your finger and everything else away from her.” Desandra’s eyes flashed again. She toyed with the paper. “Is she pretty?”

“Pretty is the wrong word.”

Desandra’s voice dropped into dangerous territory. “What is the right word?”

“Regal.” Nick grimaced and held out his hand. “I need the paper back.”

“No.” Desandra held the paper out of his reach and sniffed it again. “I like smelling it.”

My magic gave me an affinity to horses, birds of prey, and wolves. They liked my scent.

“Seriously.” Nick reached for the paper.

“You can’t have it. Mine.” Desandra waved the paper and stopped abruptly, her eyes looking straight at me like two shiny moons. “Honey, where is your crossbow?”