“No. His scent and DNA was absent from the murder scene. Still a possibility. The murderer or murderers cleaned up all DNA evidence except for a cigarette butt in the hallway.”
“Human?” Their inner wolf never allowed smoking.
“Yep. An unknown human visitor. Only his human assistant was allowed in the building and she, a non-smoker, found the body.” Humans, who took a blood contract to never reveal about their kind, were the only ones trusted to work with werewolves. Why would a human help murder a werewolf?
“Our missing stateside werewolves do not suffer from morphopsychosis or the milder morphogenesis, so it might have been a coincidence Raulf was. On this side of the pond, two lone wolf betas were reported missing by the lycan warden. The third was a beta, who tended to rebel against his alpha masters.”
I can see his point. “In other words, weres who for whatever reason don’t do well with packs.” Cricket straightened. Concern for her now lone wolf charge filled her thoughts. “Slade!”
“He’s fine. We have him on webcam, and I assigned four betas to guard his guesthouse. Dr. Warner and Jesper are with him as well.”
“Like they’re a big help,” she snarked.
“Tomorrow morning, you’ll fly to King Conan’s territory and talk to Warden Cody. Interview the warden about the last time he talked to each missing werewolf.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Get some rest. The helicopter will take off at 5:00 a.m.”
The thrill of the hunt excited her. “I’ll be there.”
Rylee stood and walked to the door and then turned. “One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“The king and all pack alphas, enforcers and wardens have been informed, but nonetheless, we want to keep this quiet. For all we know, the missing werewolf cases might not necessarily be related, but if it is, we don't want to cause panic.”
Yeah, right. I smell a rat or two. Cricket sensed, like Rylee, the missing werewolves were related and involved humans. Humans who might have discovered their secret society. Werewolf hunters from the Middle Ages had long died out, but who knew if a modern version had sprung up?
Slade met with Dr. Warner for the last time before he returned to his clinic in Maine.
“I assure you, Prince Slade, the nightmares should subside over time.” He took out a vial of little white tablets. “This should aid you in returning to restive sleep.”
Going insane or being sedated and vulnerable? “I don’t like being medicated, but I’ll take one if the need arises.”
Dr. Warner looked up from his tablet. “Anything else still bothering you?”
Slade omitted telling the doctor about his obsession with Cricket. He figured it was just lust from lack of sexual activity and his need to protect the defenseless. First, she was almost mauled by a bear and then nearly choked to death. Hell, she should be chained up to keep her out of trouble. He was just concerned. Nothing more. Still. When he heard she’d left for three days, he mustered every fiber of his being to contain his wolf and follow her or demand she return.
“My liege? Do you remember the nightmare that awakens you?”
“Only that I arrive to my territory, find my dead pack and then fall into a dark pit.”
“This is the same one you think is involved with the memory loss you experienced after my assistant Henri gave you the wrong dose?”
“Yes. Last night I had the falling in the dark pit nightmare again, but this time I remember your assistant.”
“Do you remember biting his ear off?”
“No, but his face…then nothing.”
“Describe him.”
“Tall for an omega, almost my height, crew cut, no facial hair.”
“Why yes. That’s Henri.”
Regret tore at his heart. To bite off an ear, forever disfiguring the wolf disgusted him. Henri may never attract a mate. “I’m sure that’s why he left your employment.”