“You are the most fascinating creature I’ve ever known,” he told her, opening the doors so she could go through first.

  Genevieve was there already, as was David.

  “Thought you were staying at the scene for the search?” Rowan asked him.

  “Vihan and Vanessa are there now. I felt it was more important to be here to take notes and assist during the questioning.”

  Look at him all grown up and being the boss of other people!

  “Sounds good.”

  “Darius stayed at the ranch,” Genevieve explained. “My father is there as well. They’ve located some rudimentary spells. First aid and that sort of thing. But also two canvas duffel bags full of cash, but it wasn’t actually cash. It has been spelled. Darius says the magic feels similar to Hugo’s, but it could be a Procella signature. We’ll find out.”

  Rowan felt her heart swell like the Grinch’s had. “Hugo fucked them over?” She snorted. “How effective was the spell? Like could they spend it and everyone else saw it as real money too? Or like it turned into paper when the sun came up?”

  “Good question. Let me ask.” Genevieve pulled her phone out, so Rowan gave her privacy and turned to Clive where he stood with Alice.

  “Did that blood all over you come from multiple wolves or did one or two get the bulk of the beatdown?” she asked him as she perched her butt on a desk to rest her leg.

  “It’s Patrick Shank’s blood. He’s a bloody giant, but I used those stilettos you suggested,” he told Rowan. “The gloves worked great to protect me from the silver. Once the lymph nodes were pierced he went down.”

  “Are they still in? The blades?”

  “Didn’t want to kill him before you spoke to him, so I removed them but he’s in silver cuffs and leg irons. He’s working on healing a significant injury to the muscles of his back and shoulders.” That little smirk on his lips said he’d been the one to deliver those injuries.

  “Really bummed to have missed that,” she murmured. He was ridiculously hot when he went into that nearly feral place. He fought like a man who’d been trained to fight since he was in short pants and was really good at it. A natural predator. Mmmm.

  “Stop that, darling Hunter,” he said softly.

  “I’ll let you reprimand me later,” she said in his ear.

  “Konrad says the money spell would have worn off over time. Two to three weeks,” Genevieve told them as she approached.

  “I assume Patrick is the most injured of the four?” Rowan asked and Clive nodded. “Let’s talk with him first. Can he shift? Should we be worried about that? They can’t tell me all I need to know if they’re a wolf.”

  “I took care of it,” Genevieve said. “A spell that breaks their connection to the magic controlling the shift. I made some calls after you asked me about why witches hired wolves and between me and Samaya, we connected with a very old witch whose family are what you’d call organized crime. Not magical organized crime, but money laundering and the like.”

  Rowan couldn’t get mad about it. She had too much to handle as it was. She understood the Senate faced similar issues. There were only so many hours in a day.

  “She claims the spell is really used for self-defense. And like the money magic, it wears off if it’s not removed. I’m not entirely convinced of the former.” Genevieve raised a single shoulder slightly. “But in this case, that is true. It wears off in twenty-four hours so I can renew it if necessary.”

  “Okay, here’s how this will go. I’m going to take Patrick first. He’ll be smarting from Clive dogwalking him. Ha! Dogwalking. Werewolf. You all can’t be in the room. It’s too much. All that power in the air, all the scents, it’ll overwhelm him to the point where he’s not useful.” She needed him focused on her. “David will be with me. He’ll record the interview although I’m sure the Nation has the room mic’d up and full of cameras. He also has access to whatever I might need as I go. I’m explaining this so no one gets upset when they can’t come in. Clive, not this one. I have to terrify him now. You’ll mess with my scary Rowan mojo because he’ll have to divide it with yours.”

  “I can’t believe I understood all that. But I agree. Not to the other three. We’ll revisit when you’ve finished. Genevieve can join us in the viewing room.”

  “Let’s go, then.”

  * * *

  Rowan entered the room and didn’t stop her smile at the sight of Patrick Shank. Bloody runnels marked the side of his neck on both sides where Clive had used the stilettos. His face was bruised and bloody, like the entire back of what little shirt he had left. The skin had been shredded by another paranormal, and because he hadn’t shifted, he’d be hurting.

  Good.

  She sat out of arm’s reach but not out of crutch reach.

  “You have no right to keep me here,” Patrick said.

  “You shot me fourteen times, Patrick. Also, broke four of my bones. You came into my city and you tried to kill me. And then you abandoned your dumbass brothers and ran off, leaving them holding the bag. Now, why did you do that? I don’t even know you. I don’t deny being able to drive people into a killing mood, but that’s just rude.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Rowan sighed. There used to be a speech about telling the truth to avoid what would be a great deal of pain and they’d still tell her the truth. But they never listened. So she was going to try something else.

  “You had to know what a risk you were taking with this attack. Broad daylight? Cameras everywhere. Dude! This is Las Vegas. You can’t pick your nose without it being filmed. Plus there’s the whole oh-my-god-no-one-knows-about-the-existence-of supernatural-beings so we’re all supposed to avoid doing things that would expose Diane in accounting to the existence of people who can turn into animals.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The blood she’d recently taken from Clive made her even faster when she twisted to grab the crossbar in the handle of one of her crutches, lifted, swung it right into Patrick’s thick fucking neck exactly where that blade had been. He bellowed in pain, and she yanked back and shot her arm forward again, hitting him with the rubber tip right in his Adam’s apple, making him gag through his cries of pain.

  “That was quite vigorous,” David said. “Well done.”

  “Something new in the repertoire. Seems effective.”

  “You fucking bitch!” Patrick yelled.

  Brigid rose hard and fast and a sense of deep outrage drowned Rowan. “You dare speak in such a manner? A faithless coward who has brought dishonor on his family. I know who you are, Patrick Shank. Nothing.” As she’d spoken through Rowan, the energy in the room had risen. Tingles ran over the surface of her skin.

  Patrick knew he wasn’t only speaking to a Hunter. Rowan noted the moment when he understood he was in way over his head.

  “Now, then,” Rowan said after Brigid had slowly faded, warmth still in her belly. “I know you’re a wolf shifter. I know you and your brothers and cousin were hired to kill me. I know it was you. I know you were paid half a million dollars and really, half a million dollars for all that? How much money could you possibly have made after the overhead on such a production? You had nine people at the scene and another SUV that didn’t make it. Ammo. Weapons you probably already had but it’s still a cost. Travel here. Lodging. That profit margin sucks. Also, did you know the money you were paid, the cash you had stored at the ranch house I mean, did you know it was bespelled? It’s all paper. It’ll wear off in two or three weeks I’m told.”

  “That’s a lie,” Patrick said.

  There was a knock on the door and Alice brought two duffel bags in, placing them on the table. “Marco brought these up, thought you might like them.”

  “Perfect. Thank you.”

  “No,” Patrick said.

  Alice left and Rowan stood, leaning slightly as she unzipped first one and then the other bag. Neatly wrapped stacks of paper. She held up several stacks and then shoved the bags closer to him, making her way closer, liking the wary glance he gave the crutch.

  “Wolf shifters have a very sensitive sense of smell. So you know these stacks are what you thought was cash. Oh, I bet you flipped through them, working yourself up into a frenzy thinking about it. You didn’t have to share with Eustace and Oliver. More cash for you. And the other three who escaped but never turned up at the ranch. Wonder what happened to them. Did you happen to them, Patrick? Loose ends tied. Your fuckup brothers and cousins handled. More money for you again.” She’d been spitballing, but damn if that didn’t fit perfectly.

  He glared at her, lips clamped tight.

  “Who hired you, Patrick?”

  No answer.

  Faster than he could track her, Rowan had pulled one of the silver stilettos Clive had returned to her and slammed it into his upper thigh. Close enough to the femoral artery for him to panic slightly. Definitely close enough the silver would quickly reach his bloodstream and fill him with fiery pain.

  Patrick screamed.

  “I know where your family is in Seattle,” she said in a tone he had to stop screaming to hear. “I bet your uncle and your dad are going to be positively upset when they discover you’ve not only bungled a job you never should have taken, several sons and daughters won’t be coming home. Oh, and four of you have been taken into custody by three different supernatural parties. All those years they spent building the Shank empire and you’re fucking it up for half a million dollars that was just fucking paper with a magic spell on it.” She paused to laugh at what a stupid cock he was. “What a dingus you are. I’ll have all your accounts by this time tomorrow and I’ll drain them. Even if you could escape—and you can’t—where would you go? You’ve got no money. All your connections are blown. Your family doesn’t want any of the trouble you’re bringing with you. You’ve killed members of your pack and brought the heat down on their heads. You’re radioactive now.”

  Those were the right buttons to push. Pack was deeper than most human understanding of family. They needed that community and connection to thrive and he’d acted so selfishly all the protection of that pack would be gone.

  Sweat beaded on his temples as pain wracked him.

  “Why protect someone who betrayed you? I’ll take the blade out when you answer the question. You have no other reasonable option. Who. Hired. You.”

  “We’ve done work for the Procellas in the past. The old one called first,” Patrick said. “Sergio said he wanted a hit on a target quickly. We started to put the plan in place but then all of a sudden the grandson gets in touch. Says he wants it right away. You’re a high-profile target and hard to get alone so I say we can’t do it that fast. We negotiated a bit and in the process I figured out who he was. Hugo Procella. Guy’s all wrapped up in some pussy he can’t have and you got in his way.”

  “The first one who called wasn’t Hugo?”

  “No. The patriarch. Sergio.”

  That motherfucker. Both of them? For different reasons but clearly Hugo knew what pop-pop was up to since he called direct to change his assassination order. These fucking people!

  Rowan headed to the door but then paused, turning to face Patrick again. “What else do you do for the Procellas?” she asked, and Brigid burned so intensely from within she knew it was the right question.

  * * *

  Clive watched his wife obliterate a werewolf in under an hour.

  The whole room had erupted with surprised sounds when Rowan had used her crutch.

  “She’s a beautiful nightmare,” Marco said.

  “Isn’t she?” Clive said. “Magnificent.”

  The money bit had been done perfectly. The Dust Devil had walked back in with the bag after only being gone twenty minutes. They traveled in their own ways Clive wasn’t privy to. But it had worked.

  “I’ll contact Konrad to let him know we’ve got a positive identification of Hugo and Sergio as being responsible for this assassination attempt,” Genevieve said with a sigh.

  Marco patted her shoulder. “This isn’t on you, Butterfly.”

  Genevieve breathed out before she shrugged. “Some of it is.”

  “No more than rests on Rowan. Or me. The Vampire Nation surely.” Clive shook his head. “One thing I’ve found since my wife exploded into my world is this is all of us. You didn’t make these shifters take this job. Or the Procellas do whatever they do. To stop all this, blood gets spilled. Regularly. But without it, more would be spilled, yes? Our world gets unveiled and the humans will panic. That puts us all in danger too. All the carefully crafted rules to keep humanity safe from us will fall apart. And humanity will turn on us. None of it can happen. So we do what we can.”

  Clive watched Rowan finish up with Patrick on the other side of the glass. She was back in the zone, clearly pleased with herself, which never ceased to incite him. Beautiful nightmare indeed.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  It was about two and a half hours before sunrise when they finally finished up for the night. Rowan had questioned all four shifters and had allowed Clive to sit in on the woman and the guy from the kitchen. Genevieve had assisted when she’d interrogated Angus. He’d gotten all caught up in the witch and her beauty and had spilled as much as Patrick had, though without Rowan having to slam a blade into him a single time.

  That made her a little sad, but also relieved they’d been able to get so much information about all the errands the Procellas had hired the Shanks to perform over the last two years.

  “Do you want to get pancakes?” Genevieve asked her once they’d gotten down to the parking garage of Die Mitte.

  Clive was dealing with a bunch of Vampire shit before the sun rose and Rowan didn’t envy him that at all. But, a stack of fluffy carbs sounded like exactly what she needed.

  Rowan texted Clive where she was headed and he told her he’d see her at home and admonished her to be careful. As Darius was with them, she wasn’t too worried, but she assured Clive she was safe as houses.

  The city was relatively quiet, though never abandoned, even at that time of the morning, as Darius drove the short distance to Rowan and Genevieve’s favorite pancake house. Like he knew exactly where it was.

  “She got you hooked on the pancake train?” Rowan teased before she realized who she was teasing. She was too tired to take it back.

  Darius made a sound, a cross between a snort and a growl. “Turns out I’d forgotten how a stack of fried dough really hits the spot when you’ve been out all night.”

  Genevieve looked at him, a sweet expression on her face, and Rowan was simply so relieved, so pleased her friend had someone who made her feel that way.

  “Bacon doesn’t hurt it either,” Rowan added.

  Genevieve quite often ordered a milkshake with hers, so she never looked twice when Rowan got a double side of bacon to go with her short stack.

  The parking lot of the diner was pretty full, but they found a spot easily and she managed to scoot herself out to where Genevieve stood, ready, holding Rowan’s crutches for her.

  They set off toward the door, Rowan slower than usual but it wasn’t such a big deal because Darius and Gen slowed for her and carbs were about to enter the chat. She didn’t even think she’d be able to eat solids for a week and there she was, mouth watering over pancakes.

  Score.

  Then something hit her square in the back. So hard she stumbled and hit the pavement in a heap.

  Genevieve turned, surprise on her face. “Rowan!”

  “Something hit me,” she said as a wave of cold began to open over her skin, making her shiver and her teeth chatter.

  “Magic,” Genevieve said with deadly calm. She touched Rowan’s shoulder and cursed.

  Darius peered around the area. “We need to get out of the middle of the lot,” he said quietly.

  “A moment,” Genevieve said and began to mutter under her breath. The fingers she’d had on Rowan’s shoulder tightened painfully but the cold began to ebb until the weight of it was gone entirely.

  Darius picked her up, one-armed, and Rowan tried not to squirm to make it worse as they backed up, looking around to see where the spell had come from.

  They couldn’t go inside because dozens of humans were in there and they weren’t going to bring that danger to them.

  Genevieve continued that quiet muttering and singing and the light posts around where they stood went out.

  Darius set Rowan to her feet carefully as he handed the crutches over. He looked to Genevieve. “This magic is the same as what was on the delivery.”

  Hugo couldn’t possibly be there! He’d escaped with his life already, why would he be back, facing beings he couldn’t possibly overcome?

  “Hugo,” Genevieve called out, “you can’t win. We already know you were behind the assassination attempt on Rowan. And the deliveries you sent to my home.” She didn’t mention what they knew about his grandfather and Rowan was glad about it. They didn’t know if he’d been in contact with Sergio or not, but it wasn’t wise to give away all they knew at that point.

  Darius, who’d been standing at their side, simply went...insubstantial. A dark swirl of power that reminded Rowan of the dust devils she saw out in the open desert. Mini tornadoes of energy.

  Genevieve squared her shoulders as Hugo Procella stepped out between two cars. Even from where they stood in the dark, Rowan could see the madness on his face.

  Genevieve drew in a surprised breath that told Rowan she’d seen the same thing.