Black Magic Bayou (4 page)

Perry glanced over to the bear officer, whose nametag I now noticed read K. Fisher. I wasn’t sure what was silently communicated between the two of them, but after a moment the detective said, “You don’t touch
anything
.”

I nodded, somewhat stunned he was agreeing to this.

He took me to a side door that led into the taped-off alley and stepped out ahead of me. Alongside small yellow tent cards bearing black numbers was a white sheet made of a thin plastic material covering the unmistakable shape of a body.

I hesitated, then took the two short steps down into the alley.

“Step where I step.” Perry pointed to the yellow cards, most of which didn’t seem to be tagging anything. I assumed a lot of the physical evidence had already been removed. I followed directly in his footsteps, and he led me over to the body, which was lying in front of a rusting green dumpster. “You sure about this?”

Nope
. “Yes.”

Perry pulled back the sheet and settled it around the victim’s waist, exposing the young man’s upper body.

“Meet Liam Casey,” he said.

The dead guy was about my age, maybe a few years older, and aside from his waxy, almost blue complexion, he didn’t look seriously injured at all. I tried to find signs of bruising or broken bones, but there was only a small puddle of blood under his head, like a crimson pillow he’d fallen asleep on.

If this was a werewolf-related death, I was Elizabeth Taylor.

I’d seen what happened when werewolves killed humans, even when the wolves were in their human form. This guy hadn’t been killed by Emmett and Mason, of that I was absolutely positive.

“Thanks.” I straightened up, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans. “Would you excuse me for a minute?”

He pointed to a narrow path I could safely use, and I hustled away. Both Mags and Wilder stood up straighter when I emerged from the alley, and I must have looked as ashen as I felt because they both asked, “Are you okay?” almost in unison.

I shook my head, feeling the false veneer of my confidence cracking.

Instead of forcing out any words I made a beeline for the alley on the opposite side of the street next to a closed strip club. I barely made it past the garbage cans before I braced myself against the brick wall, bent double, and threw up on the filthy pavement.

I retched until there was nothing left, grateful I hadn’t eaten anything yet, then leaned against the wall behind me, wiping sweat off my brow and tears from my eyes.

“Get your shit together, Genie,” I grumbled.

I wasn’t sure what had me more rattled, the trouble my wolves were in or seeing the dead body. But if this was how I handled my first difficult situation as an Alpha, I was going to become an easy target for a challenger. The New Orleans pack needed stability, not weakness. I needed to
be
their strength, whether I believed I had it in me or not.

What was the saying? Fake it ’til you make it?

Callum must have seen something in me he thought made me worthy of being a leader, and now I was being tested. It was time to step the hell up and prove I could do this.

I could, right?

Magnolia came to the end of the narrow alley, blotting out the early-morning light. “You okay?”

I grunted, and she made her way down the corridor towards me, giving my vomit a cursory glance and leaning up against the wall beside me. I couldn’t even pretend to be okay in this particular scenario, but I would be. I had to be.

“Just kind of snuck up on me is all.” I wiped my hands on my jeans again and gratefully accepted the stick of gum she’d taken out of her purse.

“What did?” When her calm, patient gaze met mine, I knew there was no point in lying. Why would I? Mags was my friend above all else, and more than wanting to please me as her Alpha, she wanted to be there for me as a port in the storm. I’d be an idiot not to latch on to that right now.

“The responsibility. I knew it would be more than shaking hands and having a title. I
knew
I’d have to step up to the plate eventually, but I guess I figured my first official duties might be easier and less…well, less dead-body related.”

“Could be worse,” she offered with a faint smile.

“Oh yeah? How do you figure?”

“Your ex-boyfriend could be on the phone with Wilder right now.”

If I walked into the street naked and someone was waiting for me with a pop quiz, I wouldn’t have been surprised at all.

This had to be a nightmare, that was the only reasonable explanation.

I was sleeping, and I’d hit snooze one too many times, and now my brain was punishing me.

Except, when I made my way back towards the bar, everyone was behaving normally, and Wilder was pacing near the entrance with a cell phone pressed to his ear. He didn’t look as unhappy as I might have expected. His expression was tense and serious, but not angry.

He and Cash had never been on
bad
terms. In spite of my connection to Wilder being the final nail in Cash’s and my relationship coffin, it wasn’t like Wilder had stolen me away. There were a lot of existing problems between us neither of us had wanted to acknowledge. Wilder was the light that made those fractures easier to see.

Still, I couldn’t imagine any reason why Cash would reach out to Wilder.

Then I remembered my missed call from Cash, and the nervous swell in my stomach started to churn again.

He hadn’t been able to reach me, so he went to Wilder instead?

Something had to be seriously wrong.

As I got closer I heard Wilder’s part of the conversation more clearly. “I’m not sure what you think it is she can do to help, Cash.”

I couldn’t quite make out Cash’s end, since the officers still on the scene were chatting loudly nearby, and a radio in the squad car was warbling about some code I didn’t know the meaning of. Wilder’s brows knit together, his square jaw tightening. He scratched his chin, the faint stubble glinting in the growing morning light. He was nodding in spite of the fact Cash couldn’t see him.

“I’ll tell her—” He was interrupted. This time his brows lifted. “All right, man, I get it. I’ll see what I can do.”

The call disconnected before I got close enough to get any clues about Cash’s motivations. When I came up to Wilder’s side, he slipped his phone into his back pocket nonchalantly and pulled me towards him. His thumb hooked through one of the belt loops on my jeans, and with his other hand he brushed back several damp strands of hair from my forehead.

The way he looked at me, those muddled hazel eyes flecked with bright green, was enough to make my insides melt. I’d just thrown up and must have resembled something the cat dragged in, yet Wilder smiled at me like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

I was in very real danger of falling in love with this man.

“What did Cash want?” Instead of breaking free, I leaned into his embrace, letting the warmth of his body engulf me. Pack meant comfort. Other wolves could help me feel safe and whole again, so why not take advantage of one who was right in front of me?

“He said he called you.”

“Left a message, but I’ve been too busy to check.” Was there a hint of jealousy in his voice? I was loath to admit it, but I kind of liked it when Wilder got a bit territorial. He was so often the calm, collected one, it was nice to know he cared enough to sometimes feel like he needed to prove he was the one I should be with.

Not that he had anything to worry about.

“Ah. Look, this can wait until we’re done here. You’ve got enough going on right now as it is. Maybe Mags and I could take this one?”

Mags, who was standing apart from us, shifting uncomfortably from our public-place snuggle time, perked up at her name. “I could do what now?”

“I was telling Genie we could help Cash with his problem so she can deal with Emmett and Mason.” I saw the imploring look he was giving her, practically begging her to go along with it.

Magnolia, for all her wonderful abilities, had been raised by a humorless mother and surrounded by socially inept werewolves. She didn’t really
get
subtle, expression-based hints.

“No, I’m sure Genie wants to help Cash herself.”

There was no way Wilder could hide his heavy sigh. His chest moved against mine.

“Can you just tell me what’s happening?” I asked.

“Cash has a friend, and apparently this friend is having some very…supernatural problems. He must have told her about you because now she’s convinced you can help her.”

She. Her.

I wasn’t sure why it stung, but when I realized Cash’s
friend
must have been a new girlfriend, I felt my own momentary pang of jealousy.

Ah, the heart, what a tricky little bitch she is.

I didn’t miss Cash, but a small part of me would always feel connected to him, and right now it was as if that part of me had been stabbed in the guts.

I kept my expression schooled and calm, and hoped my pulse didn’t betray anything. Wilder might get the wrong impression.

“Did he say what it was, specifically?”

“Something about a girl going missing.” His tone was even, but I knew Wilder too well to overlook the connection. Part of the reason Wilder had once been forced to leave the pack was because of a dead girl. Since then I think any news of missing young women set him on edge.

“Let’s deal with one crisis at a time,” I suggested. “Focus on the trees instead of the forest, just this once.”

Mags, the ultimate multitasker, frowned at my suggestion but didn’t argue about it. I could tell she was already trying to decide the best way to manage my day between typical Alpha duties and these two new burdens on my schedule. Whatever she was realizing didn’t make her terribly happy.

That seemed to be the general theme of my rise to Alpha: never enough time to please anyone, let alone everyone.

Honestly, I’d be thrilled if we could make it through the day without another dead body showing up.

If I had my way, there
would
be more dead bodies, and they would come in the general form of my new team of lawyers.

The two men and one woman who would now be representing Emmett and Mason had, in no uncertain terms, said my presence within the investigation was too sharply focusing attention on the werewolf angle, and it would be best for everyone involved if I left.

“We’ll call with updates.”

Sure they would. They’d call Callum.

At least they’d convinced Detective Perry to move the guys to the precinct office instead of leaving them locked up at a dive bar. That was a small improvement.

I left Magnolia behind to go along with them to the station, much to her chagrin. In spite of her protestations, I told her I needed someone there I could trust who would keep an ear to the ground and let me know the minute anything took a turn I wouldn’t approve of.

In the meantime, Cash had called me yet again and left a rather cryptic,
Please
text.

Whatever was going on, he was freaking out, and that was reason enough for me to bypass a stop at home and head right for the Tulane campus, with Wilder in tow.

I guided my car onto a street lined with huge trees bowing low under the weight of their crowns, the sidewalks on either side of the road broken up and uneven from emerging roots. The houses were beautiful old manors, all pristinely kept with smart, tidy lawns and fresh paint. Over the front entrance of every single one were a variety of two or three Greek letters.

“Are you sure you’re cool with this?” I parked the car in front of a pale brick mansion with crisp white trim. The two letters over the door were a triangle and a circle with a line running vertically though the middle. Delta Phi.

“Of course.” He was looking at the house with mild interest and more than a little judgment. “I’m great with sorority girls.”

A laugh bubbled up from my lungs and burst out in an unexpected guffaw. “I
bet
you are. Try to not be
too
good with them.”

Wilder winked at me. “You’d prefer I be bad?”

A shiver of excitement made my insides tremble. Something about the way he said it was an unspoken promise that his version of bad would be so, so wonderful.

If Cash had moved on, what was stopping me?

My hand drifted, as if guided by its own motivations, and landed on Wilder’s thigh. This got his attention. He turned his body towards me with a dangerously hungry expression on his face. Heat flooded through me from my cheeks down to my toes, and I gave his leg one firm squeeze.

“You can be as bad as you want once we’re done here.” As soon as the words were out I was terrified he would laugh or call me out for how ridiculous they were. Wilder had a habit of voicing what he thought, and if he felt I was being absurd, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell me.

Instead he leaned in so near to me I could count the individual green flecks in his irises and smell the faint, lingering trace of coffee on his breath. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

Oh God, yes please.

He got close enough for the tip of his nose to brush my cheek, and my eyes fluttered shut as I expected him to kiss me. Except, he didn’t. His presence vanished, and the cool air from outside brushed my skin. The passenger door banged shut, and when I opened my eyes, he was already halfway up the front walk.

I let out a shaky breath.

The man totally upended all my common sense. When every other aspect of my life demanded I hold it together, he undid me.

No wonder I was scared of letting him get too close.

Wilder Shaw might be the one person who could really hurt me.

I followed him to the house, keeping a professional distance. The front door opened before we could knock, revealing a pretty blonde girl who was about my height. She had round cheeks and a full figure, and radiated the kind of sweetness that couldn’t be faked. One look at her and you wanted to befriend her.

“Genie?” Her cheeks were faintly blotchy, and tears shimmered in her big blue eyes.

I wanted to hug her, and we’d never met.