Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 134501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
‘It had a long slice down its left arm from shoulder to wrist.’
Logan pointed his finger. ‘It’s gotta be Duncan,’ he said, referring to a wolf from their clan. ‘Nice to know he’s not dead, though I’m not sure you can call his current existence a life.’
Yeah, it both saddened and relieved a person to discover that a wolf gone Rabid still lived. ‘It would be better not to tell Mae,’ said Ripper, referring to Duncan’s mate. The guy had been gone eleven years – she’d moved on and had two kids to another werewolf since then. To hear that Duncan was still out there and that he’d been so close to Ashwood . . . it would just mess with her head.
Logan nodded. ‘Learning about it wouldn’t do her or her family any good.’
‘I won’t say anything,’ Emberlyn assured them, her gaze going inward.
Coating the third claw mark in poultice, Ripper wondered if she was thinking on how she’d feel in Mae’s shoes; if she’d want to know if Michael had been seen.
Logan rubbed at his nape. ‘I don’t think Duncan incidentally made his way here.’
Ripper went still. ‘Why not?’
‘I was only so close to the manor because I’d followed the scent of blood while on patrol. A dead goat was left not far from here.’ Logan pointed in the direction of the rear of the house. ‘It wasn’t killed by an animal, and it didn’t die of natural causes. Its throat was slit.’
Emberlyn tensed. ‘So someone had hoped to lure a Rabid or two out here,’ she mused, a dark note in her voice.
‘Seems that way.’
A blast of cold washed over Ripper’s nape, and then the can of sugar skidded along the countertop. He went still, as did Logan.
Emberlyn, however, pointed at the can and then flicked her finger to the side. The object grazed the counter as it returned to its original spot.
Okay.
Logan cleared his throat. ‘It has to have been one of the coven,’ he insisted.
‘Or Carver, or one of his clan.’ Done applying paste to her wounds, Ripper held out the spatula.
She took it from him with an uttered ‘Thanks’ and plopped herself on the nearest chair. ‘I want to see the goat,’ she announced, crossing her injured leg over the other.
Ripper stilled, opposed to the thought of her leaving the safety of the house. ‘Me and Logan will move it away from here.’
Dipping the spatula in the mortar, she peered up at him. ‘How awesome of you,’ she said, her tone dry. ‘But I want to see it before you do.’
He dragged his gaze away from her curved lips, mentally crushing the thoughts of just what he could do with that mouth. ‘Why?’
‘To see if there’s any indication that magick was used.’ She began expertly lathering her wound in poultice. ‘I want to know if a witch was involved.’ She shot him a quick look. ‘Why do I get the feeling that you don’t want me to check it out?’
Because he didn’t. ‘You’re injured. The poultice won’t stop the smell of your blood from scenting the air. And if there’s a breeze, it’ll carry that scent and act as a better lure than any goat.’
‘Which is why I intend to use magick to mask the scent,’ she said, scooping more paste out of the mortar.
‘It’s still best for you to remain here,’ Ripper insisted.
‘Hey, I get that your protective instincts are playing hopscotch right now, but it wasn’t a request. And why would I need to stay here when I have two strapping werewolves to keep me safe?’
Ripper clenched his jaw. It galled him that she disregarded his authority. But, he then realized, it was also part of what drew him to her. Emberlyn wasn’t at all impressed by his position of Alpha; didn’t look at him and see an Alpha. She just saw Ripper.
‘Finished.’ She stood and tossed the spatula on the chopping board. ‘Just gotta wash my hands and then we’ll go.’
He didn’t bother arguing, knowing it wouldn’t do him any good. He waited while she cleaned up and then used magick to scrape the scent of blood from her skin. His need to shield her pricking at him like claws, he walked at her side as Logan led them out of the back door and onto the land beyond her yard.
Stopping at a certain spot, Logan frowned down at the patch of crushed long grass that was smeared with blood. ‘It’s gone.’
‘One of the Rabid must have hauled it off.’
‘I don’t see any signs of magick,’ said Emberlyn, glancing around. ‘Which isn’t to say that one of the coven wasn’t involved. They might have avoided using spells just in case the goat was found and I got a good look at it.’ She swept a hand over the ground. Magick dust drifted down from her palm and cleaned away the blood.