The method had been different than the one that had taken Danny, but two murders in such a short time had to be connected.

Who the hell had slipped in?

Just an hour ago, I’d had confirmation from contacts out in Guild City that they’d seen Eve walking toward our tower at the time of the murder, escorted by all of her friends. She was in the clear—of that, at least.

Her other secrets? I was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of them.

Worry tugged at me. The killer had attacked her. Why? Did it have to do with whatever she was hiding?

The idea of her at risk scared the hell out of me.

Nothing can happen to her.

The depth of my fear for her was unnatural. I shouldn’t care this much. I shouldn’t care at all.

I shook my head, trying not to think of her.

I needed this time—totally undistracted by her—to look for signs of guilt, worry, or fear. Not just in faces, but in body language and scent. It was a long shot, but I was willing to take it.

Soon, the ceremony was over, and people began to mingle. I joined them, trying to keep a clear head as I spoke. The others’ grief began to rub me raw, forcing memories to the surface.

Danny and Bill had been my brother’s friends when we’d been young. My friends. Bill had stayed a decent guy, and now he was dead. Just like Garreth. Just like Danny.

Was I next?

I hoped so.

I’d love for the bastard to come after me.

But no. There wasn’t a connection between the three deaths. Garreth had died years ago in a car accident. I’d seen his body, broken on the side of the road, before the paramedics took him away. I’d buried him, for fates’s sake. Not like Danny or Bill. And those two hadn’t been friends in years.

I dragged a hand through my hair, hating the feeling in my chest. It shouldn’t be there. The potion should have banished all emotion, but lately, it wasn’t working very well. I reached for the flask in my pocket and took a swig, enjoying the burn. When that still didn’t work, I drank more, wishing I could get drunk. It was a weak thing to want, especially given that I was the Alpha.

I shook my head and turned to search the crowd for anyone that I hadn’t spoken to today. I found a few and approached, subtly using my ability to command the truth from them to determine where they’d been when Bill had been killed.

I hated that I was questioning my own pack members. It made my stomach turn. There was still a chance it was an outside job, but the fact that Bill had been killed in the tower…

Fates, I hated this.

All around me, people grieved. Each tear felt like a slice to my skin, and eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed a whisky bottle from the refreshments table and left, needing to find a quiet spot. I had spent so much of my life not feeling, but somehow, in the space of days, the potion that had worked for so long was failing me.

Eve.

It was her fault. It had to be.

But how? How the hell could a fae make me feel this way? I hadn’t felt this way since I’d seen the girl fate had chosen for me. My mate.

Eve wasn’t my mate. She was fae.

Unless she’s not fae.

The thought struck me as I strode toward the cemetery behind the row of shops and restaurants that bordered the courtyard.

No, that was ridiculous. I’d seen her use fae magic. It was no simple glamour.

But what if she was capable of more than a simple glamour?

The thought was crazy. I’d never heard of anyone accomplishing that sort of magic, and my Alpha’s Command hadn’t worked on her. She wasn’t a shifter.

I shook my head, frustration and worry dogging at my heels.

The Dark Moon curse was coming for me. I could feel it.

13

Eve

 

I watched the memorial from my window, keeping my gaze on Lachlan the entire time. He mingled in the crowd, speaking to some people and watching others like a hawk. Occasionally, he sipped from the ever-present flask in his pocket.

It was all normal—exactly what one would expect in such a circumstance. Perhaps the memorial was happening a bit quickly, considering that the murder had been less than twelve hours ago, but that wasn’t unheard of.

From the way Lachlan made the rounds, I had to assume he was looking for people who seemed suspicious. He was too clever and too driven not to be using this opportunity.

But he seemed…off. There was something about the set of his shoulders and the glint in his eyes. He was being weird. I didn’t know him well, but that damned connection between us was impossible to ignore. There was something not quite right about him now.

When he grabbed a full whisky bottle and headed away from the crowd, I made my decision.

Carefully, I climbed out the window and crept along the roof. If someone looked for me, they’d see me, but it was better than being all flashy with my wings. Finally, I reached a quiet spot where I could fly down to the side of the tower. I hurried through the dark, headed to the old cemetery.

I found Lachlan sitting on a bench next to his brother’s grave. He just sat there, staring into the distance, the whisky bottle held loosely in his hand.

He looked so…broken.

I stopped nearby, and he glanced at me.

“Doing all right?” I asked.

“Fine.” He frowned. “What are you doing out of your room? It’s dangerous.”

“It seemed like it was time.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised you didn’t stay put.”

“Not really my style.” I eyed the bottle. It was half empty, and I swore it had been full when I’d seen him take it. Yet he showed no sign of inebriation. “How much have you had?”

“A lot more than this.” He took a swig. “Doesn’t do much, though.”

“Then why drink it?”

“I like the burn, and I need to kill some time.” He looked back at me. “You need to be more careful and not wander around at night. What are you doing here, Eve?”

Checking on you. But I couldn’t say that. It also wasn’t the entire truth. “I want to know what’s going on. Why are you killing time?”

“A band will start soon. Shifters can’t resist a band. Once it starts, everyone will be distracted, and I’ll be able to check my father’s crypt without letting anyone know. If it’s been desecrated, I don’t want anyone seeing it.”

His father’s crypt.

No wonder he was drinking. Even if the booze didn’t do much to him, I’d be drinking, too. “Why do you need to check his crypt?”

He drew in a low, tortured breath. “That claw was my father’s. I buried him in wolf form. Intact.”

Shit.

He was psyching himself up to check on the probably-desecrated grave of the father he’d had to kill. I drew in a shuddery breath. “How do you know?”

“The seer.”

Of course. The shifters’ seer was powerful.

“Do you know what happened to my father?” he asked.

“Not the whole story.” There had to be more to it. A reason. A good one.

“The Dark Moon curse took him.”

I frowned. “What’s that?”

He stared up at the sky. “Something that haunts the wolves of various packs. Not just ours. Though we’ve been particularly unlucky to have lost an Alpha to it.” He paused a moment, then continued. “Shifters feel emotions particularly strongly.”