green of his eyes flashed with emotion. âForgot what they said at the clearing, okay? As much as I donât care for Riggs, he knew that one of the Runners would accept responsibility for you so that we could keep you alive. There isnât a goddamn chance that Drake plans to let you live,â he rasped, the softness of the words in no way lessening their impact. âNot when he knows he can use you to get to us, just like they did with Max. The only problem is that Max lived. Now I think theyâll come after you even harder, or turn it into a game and play with us.â
âBy keeping me scared?â
âYeah.â
Grabbing at another plate, she ignored the shaking in her hands. âDrake really is the one behind all the trouble, then, isnât he? The one Anthony Simmons was working for, whoâs tempting Lycans to turn rogue, teaching them how to shift during the daytime?â
Michaela knew the past few weeks had been chaotic for the Runners. On top of learning that a traitor was working to expand the number of rogue wolves in the area, theyâd discovered that those who had turned had been taught how to dayshift. That was the first clue that had pointed the Runners toward an Elder, once theyâd learned that the ability to teach a wolf how to take his shape beneath the sun was a power possessed only by those who served on the League, meant to be used as a defensive weapon during times of war.
After the Runners had realized they were hunting a traitorous Elder, Stefan Drake had become their obvious suspect. Drake and his followers made no secret of their fanatical hatred for humans and Bloodrunners alike, but it wasnât until Jeremy had accepted his place within the Silvercrest pack and returned to Shadow Peak that they were truly able to investigate Drake.
Thanks to Pippa Stanton, the lone female Elder, Jeremy had learned about Drakeâs grudge against the League itself. According to Pippa, Drake had never forgiven his peers for forbidding the assassination of his wife after she left him for a human. They also knew Drake was responsible for the recent attack on Jillianâs life. Using his own daughter as a weapon, Drake, along with the help of an unknown Elder, had performed a task believed impossible by most Lycans, pulling Eliseâs wolf from her body against her will. Once the change was complete, Eliseâs beast was controlled by Drake, and would have killed Jillian if it werenât for Jeremy and Masonâs intervention. When Jeremy later confronted the Elder, accusing him of the crime, one of Drakeâs followers, a man named Cooper Sheffield, had tried to kill him, dying instead by the Bloodrunnerâs hand.
To make matters worse, Drake wasnât the Runnersâ only problem. Over the course of the past month, Michaela knew that Brody and Cian had been investigating a series of gruesome killings. Four human females had been found murdered, three in the mountains and one in the city. At each scene, there had been no trace of Lycan muskâonly the acidic scent produced by a Lycan who had dayshifted, which was untraceable. Each of the victims had clearly been a rogue kill, their hearts eaten from their chests in some kind of psychotic, symbolic gesture. Only one of the victims had clearly been the work of Anthony Simmons, the rogue who had targeted Torranceâs life, and who had been killed by Mason in a Challenge Fight shortly afterward. The other three crimes were still unsolved, and the Runners couldnât be sure that Drake himself was behind them, his accomplice on the Leagueâ¦or one of his twisted followers.
âDrake all but admitted his guilt to Jeremy after the attack on Jillianâs life,â Brody rumbled, his deep voice suddenly pulling her from her troubling thoughts and back to their conversation. âHe already hated us before, but now he has a reason to risk taking us out. Itâs either get rid of the Runners, or accept that weâre going to destroy him and whatever he has planned.â He shrugged, and Michaela found herself momentarily fascinated by the way the casual gesture traveled across the broad width of his shoulders, his muscles flexing beneath the thin cotton of his shirt.
She tried to keep her focus, but damn, she couldnât get enough of those shoulders. Hoping she didnât sound dazed with lust, she managed to say, âSo what happens now?â
âWould you like me to take you home tonight? We can stay in Covington for a day or two so that you can get your things together, close up your shop, then head back up.â
âClose up my shop?â Her hands went still beneath the running water as she rinsed the suds away from a mug. Sheâd already made arrangements with one of her employees to run things at Michaelaâs Muse, her paranormal specialty shop, for a few daysâbut she hadnât considered that she might be away longer than that.
As if following her train of thought, Brody said, âI want you in the Alley, Doucet. In my cabin.â The dark sound of his voice shivered across her senses, but his expression remained unreadable, as if they were discussing nothing more interesting than the weather. âI donât trust whatâs happening in the pack and weâre too vulnerable in town.â
She wanted to argue. She had a life, a business in the city. And yet, none of that would ever be the same again. Max wouldnât be coming back home with her. Working with her. Living with her. The pain crushed down on her again, but she battled against the tears. âLetâs go down tonight,â she said shakily, hoping he didnât hear the tremor in her words. âI can get what I need from home, then go by the shop and close things down. My customers will justâ¦have to understand.â
âYou donât have to close. David would be more than happy to keep it open for you,â Torrance suggested from the table, having obviously been listening in on their conversation. David Sharp was a loyal, longtime employee who had worked at Michaelaâs Muse while getting his degree in advertising and had recently returned home to Covington.
âI donât know,â she murmured, picking up a coffee mug. âHeâs a sweetheart, but I couldnât ask him toââ
âSure you could,â Torrance said softly. âIt shouldnât take you more than a day to go down and get the accounts all settled. You can even show David how to do the payroll, then leave everything in his hands until itâs safe for you to go back.â
Michaela gave a wary nod, knowing she had little choice if she wanted to remain in business, and turned back toward the sink, moving on to the last dish. âSo what time do you want to leave?â
Brody didnât answerâjust stood there watching her with a strange, intense expression hardening the grooves that bracketed his mouth. âWhat?â she whispered, wondering what was bothering him.
âNothing,â he muttered. Then he uncrossed his arms and started to shift away from the counter, only to stop. Shoving his hands deep into the front pockets of his jeans, he suddenly asked, âCan you use it on me?â
Michaela blinked at him in confusion. âUse it? Use what?â
He jerked his chin at her, his dark eyes narrowed and heavy-lidded. âThat witchy thing that you do.â
âWitchy thing?â she repeated, trying to stifle a laugh when she realized he was deadly serious. âI can assure you, Brody, that Iâm not a witch.â
âI want to know, Doucet.â
âKnow what?â she pressed, finding some perverse pleasure in pushing his buttons. And he was still calling her Doucet, which just made her feel ornery.
He stepped closer, invading her personal
