Chapter Ten #2
‘Almost finished,’ said Emberlyn, tossing some glittering magick dust into her mortar. She gave the paste one last stir and then set down the pestle. ‘There. Done.’
Ripper lifted a small wooden spatula from the table. ‘I’ll put it on for you.’
Her brow pinched. ‘No need, I can do it.’
‘So can I.’ And he wanted to do it. ‘Let me.’
‘That wasn’t even really a request,’ she noted, her eyes narrowing. ‘It was an order. I don’t respond to those, in case you haven’t noticed.’
He cocked his head. ‘You know, people usually don’t argue with me.’
‘Yes, I’m sure they mostly roll over, show you their bellies, and give you your way. I’ll bet there’s even boob-jiggling when it comes to the ladies.’
Logan snorted.
‘But I’m no one’s idea of a people pleaser,’ she added.
‘Your shoulder has been clawed at an angle which is going to make it tricky for you to apply the poultice,’ Ripper pointed out. ‘Let me do that, and you can smear it on your leg wound. All right?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Fucking Alpha werewolves,’ she muttered to herself, placing her hands on the surface of the table. ‘Always up in someone’s business.’
‘We’re helpful that way.’ He planted one hand on her upper back, hooking three fingers around the crook of her neck while resting his thumb and forefinger on her nape. Her skin was warm and soft and it pebbled at his touch. Her reaction made his gut clench.
It seemed only fair that they were both slaves to this damn chemistry that wouldn’t shift.
He scooped up some paste with the spatula and sniffed it. ‘I half-expected it to smell like feet or something. It smells like old books.’
‘I find the scent comforting, so I added it to the paste.’
He carefully applied it to one slice. ‘Did you notice any distinguishing marks on the Rabid?’ Old scars would show up as white slashes in the fur. It helped identify any Rabid.
‘It was missing a finger.’
Ripper blinked. ‘I don’t know of any wolves-turned-Rabid that only had nine fingers. The injury must have occurred during the time it was in Bloodhill.’ He smeared paste over the second claw mark. ‘Anything else?’
‘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.
‘Carver was pissed at me when he left my house earlier,’ said Ripper. It could have easily been the Alpha.
‘They’re all pissed. Him. Reena. My family. Anyone who was looking forward to seeing Reena’s plans for the land come to fruition.’ Emberlyn sighed. ‘Bet you regret that Millicent pulled you and your clan into this.’
Ripper felt his brows draw together. ‘I regret nothing. And I don’t give a shit how many people are pissed or just how pissed they are. Not my problem. The land isn’t theirs; never was. Same goes for the manor. They’re the issue here, not us.’
‘I don’t think they’ll drag this out much longer,’ said Logan. ‘They’ll put up an initial resistance, sure – they feel that they’re the victims here. But they’ll let this go when the struggle doesn’t pay off. There isn’t anything else they can do.’
‘They’ll eventually accept that they’re not going to get what they want,’ Emberlyn agreed. ‘But that doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll let it go. I’m not the only vengeful witch in town, regardless of what the coven might like everyone to believe.’
Ripper felt his brows dip. ‘The rebellious faction that’s rumored to exist within the coven, you mean.’
‘It’s not a rumor,’ she asserted. ‘I don’t know who makes up the group, but I know it exists because I’ve been blamed for many spells they’ve cast. People just assumed it was me.’
Yeah, Ripper had once been one of the people who made that assumption. He’d failed to realize that, actually, she’d been the faction’s scapegoat.
‘If they think they can take me on as a group, they might well do it.’
Ripper caught her gaze. ‘They won’t only have to take you on, Emberlyn. They’ll have to also take on my clan. They fuck with you, they fuck with us and vice versa. You think the coven is really dumb enough to do that?’
She twisted her mouth. ‘No. But that doesn’t mean they won’t.’