Honestly, I was thinking about ducking out. I’d only come because I didn’t have anything better to do and I liked to dress up. But the shoes I’d thought were so pretty were starting to pinch, not to mention how the heels kept sinking into the grass. They had one job, to make my legs look incredible. Mission successful, but they weren’t designed for walking on grass, and I was getting tired of aerating the lawn with every step. The only werewolves I had even a passing familiarity with had ducked out to go check on Bryony, so now was the perfect time to slip away without having to make an excuse.

  I was just about to tell Maverick and Taliyah I was ducking out when the howls started.

  At first, I thought it was just part of the ceremony. I’d never been to a werewolf wedding before, but howling seemed like a plausible thing to expect. But the werewolf guests didn’t react like it was a good or expected thing. Almost in unison, every werewolf at the party turned toward the motel. Just their heads, swiveling like they’d all been jerked by a string. It might have been funny, if it weren’t for the expressions on their faces.

  “What’s going on?” Taliyah was already reaching for her clutch, and I would have bet my favorite pair of heels that her badge and service weapon were stashed inside it.

  “No idea,” Maverick murmured, trying to use his ridiculous height to see what was going on.

  The howling kept going, out of pitch, loud and almost desperate. I didn’t understand whatever cue was going out to the werewolves present, but it was still making me uneasy. Gooseflesh crept down my arms, and the hair on the back of my neck prickled. What the spell was going on?

  Thea Reid burst through the screen of evergreens; her red face twisted into a rictus as she sobbed. Her hair was disheveled, sagging out of its careful updo and down over one eye. The rest of the women who’d gone with her followed, looking almost as upset. There were a lot of tears and snot, and I didn’t have a lot of experience, but it didn’t look like they were happy crying about the big day.

  A male werewolf with graying brown hair hurried forward, Bryony’s father I assumed, and Thea threw herself into his arms, howling and sobbing. He gripped her arms, asking her something quietly but urgently. The crowd was getting anxious, people moving closer, trying to find out what was going on.

  Thea sobbed something into her husband’s chest, and he stiffened, before yanking her back by the shoulders. Free from the muffling of cloth and werewolf chest, it suddenly became really easy to hear just what Mrs. Reid was wailing.

  “She’s dead! She’s dead! My little girl!”

  I froze. The crowd erupted into shouts and snarls. The groom to be shouldered his way forward, demanding to know what was going on.

  Thea Reid was a mess, and the relatives clustered around weren’t any better. Ugly sobs and howls made it hard to understand just what she was saying at first, but her voice was getting louder and louder.

  “Bryony’s dead. She’s dead!” Her words spiraled up into a howl of grief.

  “Dead how?” Mr. Reid demanded. “Did someone attack her?”

  Growls rippled through the crowd, and some of the people standing near me suddenly seemed to be sporting twice as many teeth as before. It was about to get ugly for whoever was responsible.

  Mrs. Reid whipped her head back and forth, her hair lashing at her face. “No! She was just lying there on the bed, her hands crossed on her stomach. I thought she was sleeping, at first. She was even in her… nightgown.”

  The last word trailed off into a low, threatening snarl, and Mrs. Reid’s eyes met mine through the crowd. Her teeth were bared, eyes shimmering gold like a cat in the dark.

  What the spell was going on?

  “You,” she snarled, jabbing a finger at me. Gone was the subservient and shy woman in my shop. From the looks of it, she’d been replaced with a harpy. And as to that finger she was pointing in my direction, it was tipped in a long, hooking claw still painted a lovely mulberry shade. “You did this!” She screamed. “Witch! Your magic killed my little girl!”

  I gaped at her, speechless. What in the world was she talking about?

  Mrs. Reid surged forward, but others caught her, holding her back, though they looked uncertain about it.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “I didn’t–”

  Mrs. Reid snarled, a low ripping sound like a chainsaw chewing through solid wood. She lunged and managed to drag three people a step closer to me. “There wasn’t a mark on her! Just that nightgown! You did this. You did this.”

  There were suddenly a lot of unfriendly faces pointed in my direction. Eyes that glowed gold or green in the rising moonlight. I saw shadows of hair sprouting, claws and fangs barred.

  I was a Blood Witch, the leader of my own coven. That meant I was strong, but it didn’t mean that I wanted to take on a werewolf bent on revenge, much less a whole pack of them. But it didn’t look like I was going to get much of a chance to proclaim my innocence, either.

  Everything hung on a knife’s edge, with Mrs. Reid snarling and thrashing, and the people hanging onto her slowly loosening their grips. Something was going to give one way or another, and whatever that thing was, it was going to go very, very badly.

  The first werewolf lunged forward, a young male with his blood up, and Taliyah blasted a line of frost across the assembled dancefloor.

  Everyone jerked back instinctively, and Haven Hollow’s chief of police stepped forward center stage. She lifted her badge up into the air and made eye contact with as many people as she could.

  “Everyone, stop exactly where you’re standing. We will get to the bottom of what’s happened but no one is going to attack anyone. Do you all hear what I’m saying?”

  It wasn’t Taliyah’s season, but you wouldn’t have known that to look at her. She stood, totally unafraid, in front of a pack of werewolves out for revenge, and she didn’t even flinch. Even in her heels and pretty dress, she looked every inch the Chief of Police.

  When it was clear people were at least hesitating, she turned just far enough to speak to my cousin.

  “Maverick, get her out of here.”

  Maverick hesitated, clearly torn.

  She fixed him with a glare. “They aren’t going to be rational if she’s standing her and they think she’s guilty. Go. Now. You can come back when she’s safe.”

  That broke Maverick out of whatever dilemma he was having, and he actually grabbed my arm and half dragged, half escorted me away from the crowd. Normally, he would have gotten an earful for carting me around like baggage, magically and verbally, but I did want out of there before someone decided to take a bite out of me.

  I couldn’t believe Bryony was dead. Healthy werewolves aren’t immortal, but they tended to be hard to kill. What would make a young woman just drop like that? And of course, trust werewolves to come scratching at my door for magic, and then turn around and try to bite.

  The logical part of my mind understood that Mrs. Reid had just had a terrible shock, and was lashing out, looking for a target for her grief. But the less charitable parts of me were absolutely indignant. If I were going to kill someone, it wouldn’t be a teenage werewolf. Furthermore, if I wanted someone dead—I would never have been stupid enough to get caught.

  Not to mention there was no way the spells that Maverick and I had put on that nightgown could ever actually harm anyone.

  Could they have?

  That thought, along with Maverick’s ridiculously long stride, made me stumble.

  Because when Maverick and my magic came together, the effects were… dramatic.

  But that was when our magic coming together was unexpected. If I dropped a potion on an enchantment he was doing, sure, we might make a living mannequin, but the nightgown had been so carefully laid out. We hadn’t even worked our magic at the same time. There shouldn’t have been anything in the spell that could even cause a headache, much less death.

  So why was there a cold lump of dread settling into my stomach?

  Chapter Six

  Haven Hollow wasn’t the kind of town that normally required round the clock policing.

  It had its fair share of mundane crimes, as much as any small town would, but it was nothing like New York, or even Portland, with round the clock shifts of law enforcement. If someone needed help after hours, the humans could call the lone night dispatcher who would page out officers as needed. And the supernatural citizens? Well, we tended to police our own by way of the Council. Though, Taliyah coming into her power had blurred that line a bit, especially with Maverick acting as bounty hunter and magical back up for her.

  It did mean that when I sat myself down in the chair across from Police Chief Morgan’s desk at the station somewhere between way too late in the night and way too early the next morning, the place was dark and nearly deserted.

  Taliyah had thrown a blazer over her dress, and she’d put on some running shoes at some point, but hadn’t bothered to change out of her dress or let her hair down. She looked tired. Having to deal with three busloads of angry werewolves as well as process a crime scene wasn’t exactly a picnic.

  I still couldn’t believe what was happening, but when Taliyah had asked to meet with me, I’d agreed. As soon as Maverick had gotten me back to my car, he’d turned and left without a word, on his way back to Taliyah. I’d gotten out of there, but I’d found myself just parked beside the graveyard by my old duplex, not really knowing where to go or what to think.

  How could Bryony be dead? It didn’t make any sense.

  I wasn’t sure I could add anything to the investigation, but for the moment, Taliyah was simply asking me for any help I might be able to give her, without involving any handcuffs. Not only that, but I didn’t want to poke this particular polar bear, so I settled into my chair and made an effort to be helpful.

  Taliyah downed her coffee like she was throwing back a shot and made a face at the taste. “So. Walk me through the nightgown thing.”

  She’d offered me my own cup of coffee, but I’d only gotten the cup halfway to my mouth before the burnt bitter scent reached my nose and I put it back down again. I settled back into the uncomfortable visitor’s chair, and crossed my legs, one foot bobbing in the air.

  “I was commissioned by the Reid clan to make a nightgown for Bryony for her wedding night, and they wanted several enchantments worked into it.”

  Taliyah made a note. Or maybe she was just doodling, I couldn’t tell from where I was sitting. “What enchantments?”

  I fought back a sigh. “The usual—things to hide flaws and emphasize her best features. Enchantments to make her feel beautiful and confident. But also, fertility.” I made a face. “Mrs. Reid wanted grandpups, stat.”

  Taliyah made another note, her face carefully blank, hiding whatever she was thinking. “And is there any reason you can think of why Mrs. Reid would accuse you of murdering her daughter?”

  “No.” I flung my hand up, exasperated. “I didn’t even know the girl. I spoke to her all of three times, and just about the nightgown her family commissioned. I didn’t kill her, and I had no reason to.”

  Never mind what rumors like that would do to my business. Who’d buy enchanted clothing if they thought there was a chance that instead of going to the gym, they might just drop dead?

  “Is there any… other reason?” Taliyah tapped her pen against her desk, her brow furrowed.

  “Other reason?”

  “Like, is there some kind of historic tension between witches and werewolves that I’m not aware of?”

  Sometimes I forgot that Taliyah hadn’t been raised in the supernatural community. And her job was more than just knowing how to use her powers to subdue someone or save someone else. It was also about understanding the community, and the ins and outs regarding species of supernaturals and how they interacted with other species. Taliyah still had gaps in her knowledge base, things no one thought to mention because they were things everyone already knew—things we took for granted. Or they were human and weren’t supposed to know anything at all.

  Witches weren’t exactly the most popular of the supernatural species out there. We didn’t take crap from anyone, we tended to exist in large covens with lots of backup, and people could get a little intimidated by our abilities, wealth, and general awesomeness. We’d never had any historical beef with werewolves, but honestly, that was probably more to do with witches not bothering to think about werewolves than anything else.

  I shifted in my seat. “No. Witches and werewolves don’t have particular species beefs with each other. Witches and vampires, now, that’s a whole other cauldron.”

  That situation was still a sore spot for me. Like a bruise that I couldn’t stop pressing on, even though it ached every time I did. Witches and vampires had been in a cold war since longer than even I’d been alive, and that was only because two Blood Wars had decimated both sides, and no one was really eager for a third. Witches had magic, but vampires ‘reproduced’ faster. Vampires were more physically powerful, but they couldn’t tolerate sunlight. It was a precarious balance, and there’d been some rumblings lately that people were trying to kick the fight off yet again.

  I wish I’d paid more attention to those rumors. Maybe if I had, I’d have never agreed to let Astrid go off to Blood Rose Academy, no matter how much she’d begged, bargained and pleaded. If I hadn’t allowed her to attend that horrible school, if I’d insisted that the coven could teach her any and everything she needed to know, maybe she wouldn’t have been attacked and turned against her will. And all by people looking to start a war.

  Vampires didn’t have magic. It was only through Astrid’s hidden fae heritage that she’d managed to keep any of hers, but she’d never be a witch again. Even if Astrid didn’t appear to have any regrets about her new vampiric condition, I did. And I knew Maverick did.

  She was safe, I told myself fiercely, fisting my hands to hide their trembling. She was with her uncle, safe in a distant fae land while she learned to master her faerie magic. He would never let anything happen to her. I told myself that at night, when I woke up from nightmares in which Maverick hadn’t gotten her out in time, that we’d all been too late, and she’d never risen at all. Sometimes those assurances were enough to let me get a few more hours of sleep. Sometimes.

  It was a subject that was already done and there was nothing I could do about it now, so I pushed it aside and tried to focus on the here and now. Only to be reminded that Bryony was only a little older than Astrid. Had been, had been only a little older.

  I shifted in my seat, crossing my legs the other way. “Look, there wasn’t anything magically on that nightgown that could ever hurt anyone, much less kill them. Maverick helped me with the enchantments, even. He did the embroidered spell work. And between the two of us—well, it’s just not possible. If there were something that was off, one or the other of us would have noticed it.”

  Taliyah tapped her pen again, looking back over her notes. “Maverick told me the same thing,” she admitted. “No one else has any idea how Bryony died. Her body’s been collected by a,” she made a face and gestured to the air. “Magical medical examiner I know. He should be able to tell if Bryony was poisoned or anything else with a toxicology screen.”

  “I doubt anyone would try to poison a healthy werewolf.” I drummed my nails against the armrest of my uncomfortable chair. Was insufficient padding part of the interrogation technique? Let people’s legs go numb until they confessed? “They’re notoriously hearty. Plus, they can eat raw meat as part of their diet and with their crazy fast metabolisms, I doubt poison would do much more than give them indigestion.”

  “Hmm.”

  I frowned, thinking. “Unless she was poisoned with silver.”

  “Silver?” Taliyah repeated, writing it down.

  I nodded. “But you would have known just by looking at her if that was the case. Silver poisoning can be… dramatic, in werewolves.”

  Leaning back in her chair, Taliyah’s jaw worked silently, like she was arguing with herself. Finally, she reached down and opened one of her desk drawers and pulled out a file folder. She fished around inside it, and then pulled out a few sheets of paper and slid them across the desk towards me.

  They were photographs, I realized. Printed on glossy paper, they were surprisingly crisp and detailed. It was the subject matter that had me sucking in a shocked breath.

  They were obviously taken from the scene of the crime, and my eyes kept shying away to the edges, taking in all the little details so I wouldn’t have to focus on Bryony. It was a generic motel room, other than the fact that it was actually pretty clean. The walls were a pale beige, the carpet short pile, the artwork extremely neutral. It looked like any number of out of the way little motels to be found in the area, other than the little booklet on the nightstand that welcomed travelers to the Blue Moon.

  Eventually, I couldn’t put it off any longer, and I dragged my attention to the body lying center stage. It was pretty much like Mrs. Reid had described, but somehow more horrible. Bryony was lying on the bed, her head on the pillows, with her hands folded primly over her stomach, like she’d laid down to take a little nap before the ceremony. Except no sleeping person looked… flat, like that. Her skin was almost waxy, all the flush drained out of her cheeks. She was in her nightgown, the one I’d worked so hard on, trying to make it perfect for her big day.

  It was the stupidest thing to notice, but the nightgown hung a little funny at the bodice. I knew it was just my pride talking, but I’d taken her measurements myself. Twice. The nightgown had been made perfectly to fit her exact body, no puckers, no twisted seams. So why was it sitting like that?

  I knew I was focusing on silly little details to avoid really paying attention to the fact that Bryony was dead and there she was—laid out for all the world to see (or for just Taliyah and me to see, as the case might be), but it still nagged at me.

  I shoved the pictures away from me, and they fluttered across the desk back towards Taliyah.