“How many floors?”
“Six.” Aren took my hand, leading me to the north side of the building.
“You’ve got a big office.”
He shook his head. “We lease the other five floors out. Sloan Consulting is up on the sixth floor.”
“You figure he’s on sixth floor then?”
He started to shrug. “I don’t…”
His words faded away as his brow knit together. I drew my gun, scanning for any sign of movement. Then I caught the scent of blood on the breeze.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Aren
Judging by how strong the scent hit me, the blood was fresh. And there was a lot of it. I didn’t draw my weapon. I was a fucking werewolf—I didn’t need a goddamn gun. It pressed into my back, reminding me I had bullets if push came to shove.
Good enough for me.
Sasha covered me as I tracked the scent toward the source. The air reeked, thick with the metallic aroma, overpowering anything else I might’ve been able to pick up. I whispered over my shoulder to Sasha. “I can’t smell anything but blood.”
She came closer to me, never lowering her Glock as she scanned the opening to the parking garage. “He’s counting on that. The scent is coming from down there.” She tipped her head toward the ramp to the underground parking. “We’re probably walking right into a trap.”
“You should stay up here,” I said, taking a deep inhale to confirm her suspicion. “I’ll go find him.”
“Not a chance.” She started down the ramp, staying close to the wall. “If we go, it’s together.”
If I wasn’t so distracted by the scent and keyed up about saving Barry, I might’ve taken a minute to enjoy the moment, knowing no matter what kind of crazy-ass plan I came up with, Sasha was ready to fight right beside me.
She adjusted her grip on the Glock and gave me a nod. My pulse pounded, and my nerves felt raw. Adrenaline coursed through my muscles like a drug. Right now, I could probably pick up one of the empty cars with my bare hands and toss it aside if I had to.
Silently we made our way across the first level, scrambling for cover from car to car. It would have been easier to hide during business hours, but on the weekend the parked cars were few and far between. Now I understood what those little ducks felt like in shooting galleries. All I needed was a big target painted on my back.
We knelt down behind a Volkswagen Bug by the elevator, and I reached over to touch Sasha’s shoulder. “I see Barry’s car.” I pointed about halfway down the next incline. “The brown Honda Accord.”
She scanned the area while I studied the car. I thought I could see someone in the driver’s seat. Then I noticed the dome light on and the door ajar. “Shit. He’s in there.”
I started toward the car, but Sasha caught my arm in a tight grip. “Not yet.”
She put her hand back on the Glock, ready to take her shot. “Stay with me.”
We moved slowly while she canvassed the area for any sign of Fonthill. I kept my attention focused on the car. As we neared the bumper, the stench of death hit me like a truck.
“Oh, fuck.” I forgot about being quiet or careful when I saw what was inside the car. If Fonthill was going to kill us he would’ve done it by now anyway. I raked my hand through my hair, trying to process the carnage that used to be a friend, one of my best employees.
Sasha came up behind me and took a deep breath, but she didn’t say a word. She’d probably seen many more mangled bodies in her line of work than I ever had. I turned away, struggling to keep my head.
Sasha holstered her gun. “I’m so sorry, Aren.”
“We’re too late.” I shook my head. “Did you see what that sick bastard did to him?” I stared at the mangled body in the driver’s seat behind her. “He didn’t just shoot him. He…”
Something didn’t make sense. The fog of shock that gripped my mind thinned as I moved around Sasha for a closer look. Fonthill’s scent lingered all over the body, but it wasn’t exactly the same one that came off the man I’d wrestled with in Los Angeles.
Barry’s throat was slashed so severely that his spinal cord was all that kept his head attached. His eyes were still open, his face frozen in a state of terror. I reached in to close his eyes and noticed his injuries didn’t end there.
A shudder shot down my spine. Chunks of Barry’s arms, hands, and legs were missing. His clothes were ripped, and one shoe was obviously gnawed on by a large animal.
“Impossible,” I whispered.
Sasha stood beside me. “What’s impossible?”
I took another deep breath, sampling Fonthill’s scent again. There was no mistake. “Barry was attacked, mauled, and eaten alive…” I stared into her eyes. “By a wolf. Fonthill shifted.”
Worry clouded her dark eyes as her brow furrowed. “That’s impossible. The full moon is still over a week away.”
I nodded. “Yeah, but there is no denying this scent.” I rubbed my hand down my face, wondering if I looked as pale as I felt. “Somehow that crazy bastard shifted in broad daylight.”
…
I called Adam first to warn him. After I explained the circumstances of the attack, he made the decision as the Alpha to send Jason over to take samples and help us clean up the crime scene. We couldn’t leave Barry’s body to be found by the police. All we needed was for a crime lab to work up some DNA strands from the saliva in Barry’s wounds. We couldn’t risk the medical community discovering the shifter gene that would point to werewolves being real.
I tucked my phone in my pocket. “Jason’s on his way. He doesn’t want us to move anything until he gets here.”
“All right.” Sasha popped open Barry’s trunk and started rummaging through it. She came back with a blanket tucked under her arm. “He did this to show us what he’s capable of.”
“What?” Would I ever be able to keep up with her rapid subject changes?
“Fonthill.” She glanced up at me. “He couldn’t send a text as a wolf. He had to have sent it after he’d shifted back.” She paused as we both stared at Barry’s mutilated remains. “This wasn’t a trap to lure us out in the open. He just wanted us to know he can shift anytime. At will.”
“He wants us to be scared, like Barry was.” I struggled to bite back the rage that ate me up inside and kept my voice level and even. “He fucked up, Sash.” Our eyes locked on one another. “I’m not afraid. I’m pissed.”
“I know you are, but we have to think clearly. Knowing he can shift whenever he wants makes him even more dangerous.”
I started to nod when Jason pulled up. Taking Sasha’s hand, I walked toward his car. “It won’t matter what shape he chooses. We’re ending this. Either way, he’ll be dead.”
Jason got out with a bag of medical supplies. I could tell the exact moment he recognized Sasha’s scent.
Jason froze. His hazel eyes looked orange in the yellow lights of the lot as he stared at the two of us.
“Thanks for coming, Jason.” I stepped forward, clasping our forearms together, but his eyes were still looking past me, locked on Sasha. I took a step back and reached out for her. “This is Sasha.”
I held my breath while the two of them sized each other up. Of my Pack, Jason, being a doctor, was probably the most levelheaded. But he was still territorial, protective of his own, and still a werewolf who had seen the damage brought to our doorstep by jaguars first hand. He also carried around a truckload of guilt for not being able to save my father, our Alpha, after he got shot in the firefight.
Finally, Sasha nodded. “Nice to meet you, Jason.”
He remained stoic. His face was devoid of that warm everything-is-going-to-be-all-right doctor smile. “I believe we’ve met before.”