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“Don’t tempt me,” I muttered.
He shook his head, before he walked out the door.
I stood there panting, holding a knife coated in Dante’s blood, for longer than I cared to admit.
Then I walked to the kitchen, took a shot of whiskey, and made a plan.
I knew who the wolf was.
That meant I knew who to hunt.
Dante was wrong…
I wasn’t the person who was going to die. It was Colton.
Betrayal curdled deep and fast within me like heartburn, eating up my insides. Fire licked at my bones, pure fury seizing my muscles. The anger wasn’t surprising. It was the pain that shocked me. It physically hurt to discover, after all of this, that it was Colton. Colton tore my parents to shreds then held me as I sobbed afterward. I slept in his fucking bed, inconsolable, clinging to him. I’d let him fuck me, thinking that was the only way to feel loved, alive.
Worse, he played into the narrative that I was crazy, ready to have me committed. He played his part well as a teenager. Even better as an adult. I hadn’t suspected him. Not even a little. My fault for having a blind spot. For letting my emotions cloud this hunt.
Monsters were adept at masking their true selves, at masquerading as humans. It shouldn’t have surprised me. It definitely shouldn’t have hurt me.
But it did. More than the gruesome wound in my side. The gash in my calf. My newly torn open palms. The browning bruise on my eye. I was healing. Barely. But at least the stitches held.
I considered my options over my morning coffee. Driving up to Colton’s house and shooting him in the face was an option. But I didn’t think I had the stomach for that. Plus, there was the problem with my bullets not doing their job. I was almost 100 percent certain that the demon-blessed witch was protecting him somehow. And given it wasn’t Angela, I didn’t have any leads on who it was.
The smart plan was to find the witch first, then get rid of her and whatever protection spell she had over Colton. Since I had absolutely no leads on the witch, my best bet was to tail Colton. He obviously had to have some kind of relationship with her. What did he give her in return for her protection?
What did he get out of this? Yes, the bodies over the past few years piled up, but knowing he had the power to change at will, theoretically, there should have been more. A lot more. For whatever reason, he was holding back. Why bother?
Getting the answer to who the wolf was only led to more questions. Despite my general contempt for the man, part of me wanted to call Dante to get his take. As much as he was an insufferable asshole, he was a good hunter. He had years of knowledge on me, and this little nugget about Colton might connect dots for him that I was unable to see.
I was icing him out after his little show of masculine force the previous night. But even if that hadn’t occurred, I wouldn’t have wanted to ask for help. I wanted this to be mine. Cleanly. Dante didn’t need to be tangled up in this any more than he already was.
And I was embarrassed. Embarrassed that he’d see me as weak for not realizing it was Colton in the first place.
I was alone. I hadn’t even called Donny, though I had about fifty missed calls from her. I’d fired off a text to her that I was alive then turned off my phone.
After Colton’s cruiser drove past me, I started the ignition on my rental car and pulled two cars behind him. My own car was much too conspicuous; he’d make me right away.
It remained to be seen whether or not he remembered his little battle with me from the other night, whether he knew I was on to him. Werewolves kept their lore and details about their natures locked down tight. There was constant speculation about whether humans remembered events that took place while in their beast forms.
But he hadn’t come after me, so I guessed not.
I chewed down some antacids to quell the burn in my throat, following Colton’s leisurely fucking pace. He was the deputy chief, yet he drove the exact speed limit.
How in the fuck did his rule-following ass measure up with a murderous werewolf? Or maybe that was how he’d flown under the radar for so long, keeping such tight control over his human side while letting his beast fuck shit up.
My hands clutched the wheel tightly as I grew more and more frustrated. With myself. I held on to the lividity with a death grip; otherwise, I might’ve drowned in the other emotions birthed inside of me at the knowledge that, all this time, it was Colton.
Colton headed out of town, eventually pulling into the parking lot to one of the many entrances to the woods. Another cruiser was already parked there, along with some other cars. I managed to park at the far end of the lot without him seeing me, reclining my seat as Colton spoke to an officer who was taking down crime scene tape.
I watched the conversation for a few minutes before Colton slapped the deputy on the shoulder and walked into the woods. When the deputy got in their car and left, I hurriedly packed my jacket full of firepower—including a silver grenade, just to be sure—then followed Colton. But I didn’t take the path since I knew where he was going.
My sense of direction in the woods wasn’t exactly top-notch, but I did manage to make my way up a slight incline, finding a spot with the perfect view of the crime scene.
Not that there was much left of said scene. The body was gone—Shay probably already had the body—and all the gear and remnants of the attack were gone. There wasn’t even any visible blood that I could see. The crime scene cleanup team worked quickly. Very quickly. Just another animal attack.
Colton stood in the middle of the scene, hands on his hips, frowning.