Page 3 of House of Wolves
I take my place before the small crowd—the people I’ve known my whole life. Well, except for one guy at the front. Never seen him before. I eye the blonde, attractive newcomer staring at me. I have half a mind to ask him who he is before I go on, but that would be in poor taste considering the news I’m about to share.
“Well, I’m not sure what Grimm already told you, but I got the email today from my inside connection with Stacy’s crime scene pictures. Her fingertips were cut off.” The audience gasps.
The email from Lucy contained more than just one image—there were several photos of her living room, the blood splatters, and close-ups of different wounds. The Hunters usually leave a message. It’s always different, but they like to make their handiwork known. To a regular person, missing fingertips would look like the signature of a demented serial killer, but to me, someone who’s studied the Hunters' killing. I know what it means. They like to take off a part of us that housed our power. In Stacy’s case, it was her claws. Now that she’s dead and in her human form, no one would see the missing claws. All they see is missing fingertips. This was obviously a Hunter killing. The time of peace is over. Why couldn’t they fucking wait for Red to have their baby? What major dicks.
The murmuring grows louder. I scan the chattering crowd as my brain finds the right words to continue. I catch Cameron sitting alone at the back. My heart stops, wondering where Red is. He nods at me. It could mean anything, but we have a weird sibling connection sometimes. He’s reassuring me that Red is okay and at home resting. Of course, she’s at home. If something was wrong, he sure as shit wouldn’t be here. This would all be too much for her in her condition.
The audience's panic heightens, and I still haven’t said anything to calm anyone down. I don’t know what to say. I’m freaking out too. I connect my eyes with Grimm, widening them in a plea to save me. He should know by now that I’m not the type of person who delivers bad news. I don’t have any soothing words—only the facts.
He sighs and stands, holding his hands up in a calming motion. “Everyone quiet down. We have gathered so we can all be informed and stay vigilant. There’s more to share.” He stands next to me. There’s more to share? I sure as shit don’t have more, and I’m the one with the inside information. Maybe Sergeant Brick is finally being useful. I doubt it, but I’m eager to find out. I stare at Grimm’s profile, waiting for him to go on. Finally, he turns to me, eyeing me to take a seat.
Thank God.I shuffle to the spot he got up from, right next to the strange blonde. The guy gives me a polite smirk as I sit, closing his legs to give me more room. I nod friendly, but when he turns back to Grimm at the front, I lean in for a whiff. It would be a weird thing to do in any other setting, but this is a werewolf council meeting, after all. Werewolves sniff each other.
Sure enough, I sense the Were on him right away. That’s a good sign, but I can’t help wondering why he’s here. We never get newcomers, and our numbers are constantly dwindling. His presence unnerves me.
Grimm’s voice grabs my attention. “We’ve been keeping this information from you all until we had more concrete facts, but young Were women have gone missing.”
What?How did I not know about this? It’s my job to know the facts and spread the truth that can help keep our people safe.
He goes on, speaking over the rising murmurs of the crowd. “Lara, Summer, and Victoria have gone missing separately over the last two months. We weren’t sure if they were just leaving town without telling anyone or if their disappearances had anything to do with the Hunters.”
Of course, their disappearances have to do with the Hunters. Everything has to do with the Hunters. All three women are under the age of twenty-one. This can’t be a coincidence.
Grimm carries on, “You may notice we don’t have a certain Dayton Police Force member here today.”
Oh, is Brick not here? Now that I notice, the air does lack its usually pig-filled scent.
“This is intentional,” Grimm informs. “We’ve grown suspicious of the police’s intention in our alliance. It’s no secret that the Hunters' money and power have influenced the police before. We thought with our new connection with Sergeant Brick and his involvement with the National Department of Supernatural, we finally had an equal playing field, but now we have evidence to believe someone on the force is compromised.”
“What evidence?” I pop up from my seat, unable to stop my bubbling questions.
My answer doesn’t come from Grimm, though. The man next to me clears his throat. “I’ve been to the victims’ properties. Everyone has had a common thread—hoof prints leading away from the house,” he says with a slight Norwegian accent.
I stare at the man who just spoke, distracted by his clear green eyes, the slope of his nose, the uncanny perfection of his skin, and most of all, why the fuck he knows this.
“Hoof prints? So what?” I rebut.
“The police force has horses,” he replies.
I scrunch my brow. “So? They could have been on a horse to investigate after the missing person’s report.”
“The police never came after the families called. When reported, they said the women probably just ran away, and there was no reason for alarm. The houses have been under surveillance since the women have gone missing, and no police have arrived.”
I get what he’s saying, but it still doesn’t make sense. “Okay? Do you think the police stole the women on their own police horses? Wouldn’t that be completely obvious?”
Grimm speaks up from the front. “All four women lived in secluded cabins in the woods. Horses would be the easiest way to transport them.” He addresses the crowd now, and it jolts me back to reality. For a moment, I forgot I wasn’t having a conversation alone with the two men. “Of course, many people in this town have horses, but the fact that the police are so adamant about the women running away and refusing to investigate, and now with the murder of Stacy and no public response on the incident, as if they are attempting to sweep it under the rug, signs are pointing to a police cover-up.”
“What did Brick say?” Cameron asks from the back of the room.
The man next to me stands and turns to Cameron. “We haven’t reached out to him, and he hasn’t reached out to us, making us even more suspicious. The Hunters knew these women’s identities. There are only a few ways that could be possible. Brick being the number one suspect.”
“Okay, should I know who this guy is?” I ask, still on my feet and fed up that this random dude knows more than me or my brother—the fucking Human Liaison.
The blonde eyes me with a smirk, clearly amused by my annoyance.
Grimm speaks from the front. “I apologize. With everything going on, Kilo’s introduction wasn’t on my mind.”
The man next to me addresses the crowd. “Hello, everyone. My name is Kilo Johansen. I arrived in your town a week ago. Mr. Grimm asked my pack for help dealing with your local Hunters. We had a similar situation years ago, and the story was highlighted in the National Department of Supernatural back interface. He wanted to see if I could help defuse what he feared was happening here.”
