“So there’s another jaguar around?” Her eyes scanned the lake.
“Apparently.” I scooped up Gabe’s body, when Lana reached over to stop me.
“Wait a minute. How did he get out here?”
I frowned. “He probably walked.”
“No, we both smelled blood a minute ago. If he’d been here all day, you would’ve caught the scent as soon as we got out here.”
Damn, she was quick. And right on target. I’d caught the scent of cologne, but I never heard footsteps accompanying the smell. No teenaged kids who doused their bodies in Polo. That’s why it had caught my attention earlier when I first jumped on the boulder. Now I knew the cologne was a mask. Someone didn’t want me to catch their scent.
I searched around Gabe’s body for any signs of animal tracks. Nothing. Then I turned back and noticed some tracks in the dust, but they weren’t jaguar prints.
They were tennis shoes. And only one set.
“He didn’t get attacked here.” My hands tightened into fists. “Someone dumped him here.”
“What? How do you know?”
“There are tracks, but no sign of a struggle. The jaguar attacked him as a cat last night, and dumped him at our feet today as a man.”
“But no one knew where we were.”
I met her eyes. “Someone did.”
We wrapped my shirt around Gabe’s torn mid-section to hide his injuries, and I carried him back to the Jeep. I barely broke a sweat. Even when I wasn’t in the physical form of a wolf, I was much stronger than any man.
I laid Gabe’s body across the backseat of the Jeep and fought back another wave of emotion. My twin brother Aren and I had grown up with Gabe and his twin Gareth. Nature of the beast with werewolves—only the males carried the shifter gene, and we were always born in matching sets. Rage burned in my gut. We graduated high school a year apart. I thought we’d have more time. Now I’d be the one to tell Gareth his brother was gone.
Because of me.
Staring out at the water, I collected myself again. Mourning would have to wait. I turned around and found Lana already in the passenger seat. She didn’t seem frightened, or shaken, but rather determined and focused.
Only the gnawing at her lower lip gave her away.
I climbed behind the wheel and forced myself to breathe through my mouth, not wanting to catch the scent of Gabe’s body. The storm of pent-up emotions calmed with Lana nearby. Until now, my relationships remained physical. No emotional ties. My Pack brothers were the only friends and family I needed. But here she was.
Hard to believe how quickly everything could change.
She tapped my leg. “You okay?”
One of my friends lay dead in the backseat of my Jeep. How could I be fucking okay? Hysterical laughter threatened, but I fought to remain calm. “I’ll be fine.”
Taking a deep breath, I kept my eyes focused on the front of the Jeep, and fired up Chaney’s V-8 engine. I jammed the stick shift into gear, but before I let out the clutch, Lana placed her hand over mine. She didn’t say a word. Maybe it meant more that she didn’t speak. She was with me, and her solidarity gave me strength.
Once we were on the highway, safe from prying ears, I looked over at her. “I need to drop you off first.”
“What? Why? Shouldn’t we do something about Gabe first?”
I shook my head, careful to keep Chaney below the speed limit. The last thing I needed was to be pulled over with a mangled body in my backseat.
“You can’t come with me. I have to take Gabe back to my ranch and call the Pack.”
“And?”
My fuse was short. This was tough enough without her questions. I shot a glare in her direction. “And you’re a jaguar, Lana. They’ll think you did this.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but then closed it and looked out the window. My simmering frustration fizzled. I reached over and took her hand. “I’m sorry. I know this wasn’t your fault. But it wouldn’t be safe for you.”
She nodded and stared out her window. Silence settled in for the rest of the drive. What could I say? All I could think about was retribution. This went beyond patrolling our territory to keep it safe from jaguars who threatened to expose our kind to the humans. I wanted the bastard that killed Gabe. Revenge wouldn’t bring him back, but I didn’t really give a shit at this point. I needed to do something.
I pulled off the freeway and took the back streets to Lana’s hotel. Other than telling me where she was staying, she remained quiet. I dropped her off at the rear entrance.
“I’ll call your cell later.”
“All right.” She nodded and gave my hand a squeeze before getting out of the Jeep. She turned back, her dark eyes locked on mine. “I’m sorry. About everything.”
“Me too.” I slid the gearshift into first. “Don’t disappear on me.”
Lana ran her hand up her opposite arm like she caught a chill. “My car is still at the diner.”
I watched her walk away in my rearview mirror. That time she didn’t look back.
“Fuck!” I slammed my hand against the steering wheel.
Merging onto the highway, I cranked up the radio and focused on ratcheting up my rage. I was better at being angry than dealing with all the conflicting emotions festering inside me. Easier to be furious at whoever killed Gabe, and angry that my own Pack was a threat to my mate, than to allow myself to shoulder the guilt for not following through on my responsibilities. But where exactly did my loyalties lie, with the Pack who raised me or with an alluring jaguar woman I’d only known for a day?
Stupid.
Chaney’s tires squealed as I cranked the wheel to turn up the steep drive to Whispering Pines Farms, my stable. Since Gabe’s body was in the back of the Jeep, I drove right past my ranch house and down the narrow blacktopped road toward the barn. I’d have to call the rest of the Pack and have them meet me up there. I couldn’t risk driving Gabe’s body around any longer than necessary.
The barn had twenty-four stalls, but right now two at the end of the barn were empty. The walls were stained a dark walnut color, with forest green trim to blend with the pine trees that grew all over the property.
Gabe had helped me build it.
My vision clouded for a moment, and I clenched my jaw, fighting the emotions pummeling me from the inside out. I needed to hold myself together and make some calls. Once the Jeep was parked and covered, I walked down the barn aisle visiting with the horses. The familiar sounds of horseshoes pawing through the wood shavings, noses splashing in the water buckets, and nickering, helped settle me. When I got to the corner stall, a large black shadow made its way to the door.
“Hey, Bruce.” His full name was Calisto’s Dark Knight, but we all called him Bruce Wayne. Bruce for short. He seemed okay with it. I had leased the Morgan stallion for the past five years. I trained him for his out-of-state owner, and after he won the world championship in western pleasure, we’d made arrangements to stand him at stud in my barn. Bruce was probably my closest friend these days. I ran my hand down his thick neck, patting him and admiring his slick coat.
“Did Luke give you a bath today?” The big black stallion shook his head as if he understood what I’d asked. “You’re a good guy, Bruce.”
Where was Luke anyway? He was the youngest Pack member and also my right-hand man at the ranch. I scanned the property, and noticed the feed room door wide open. It was early for feeding the horses, but maybe he’d loaded the grain buckets for later. When I got to the feed room, the lids were off all the grain-filled trashcans, feed buckets were lined up to be filled, but no sign of Luke.