“Where’s Silas?” Joe snarled, as he poked the old lady still selling quilts with his finger. She was the sole vendor in Artist’s Alleyway, since everyone else had already packed up and left for the day.

“Gone,” she answered, taking a step back, her gaze cast downward. “I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Hmm.” Matt shoved his rifle over his shoulder and brought a blade out. “You got anything more to add to what you said?”

“I told you everything I know, mister. Maybe he ran off. Maybe he OD’d. Maybe he got arrested.”

Dylan watched the goings on from the side of the table and lifted one of the colorful folded cloths.

“Do you make all of these?”

His mind went back to the time his mother sewed one for him. It’d been lost in one of the many moves he’d made since she died.

“Yes, they are all hand-stitched.”

“How much?”

“Fifty.”

Dylan’s eyes flew to his uncle, as Joe yanked the quilt out of his hands and threw it down onto the concrete.

“Who gives a fuck? Tell me what really happened to Silas! He may have somethin’ I need.”

Withdrawing his wallet from his pocket, Dylan opened it and pulled out a twenty.

“It’s all I got. Will you please answer his questions?”

She shook her head, still not looking at the men.

“Can’t take money for something I don’t know about.”

“She’s lying,” Matt muttered, as he sliced the knife through the fabric of one of the quilts. “Start talking, or the next cut will be to your throat.”

“Lady, please.” Dylan held a hand out to her. “He means it. Trust me.”

“I ain’t never snitched before, and I don’t intend to now.”

Joe tossed the table onto its side, sending her wares to the ground. He stepped over, crushing the material under his boots, and shoved her against the wall. When her head hit it, her hair flew back.

“What’s that there?” Matt pointed to a spot where her shoulder had been bared. “Turn her around.”

“No!” she cried, struggling to free herself from Joe’s hold on her.

Raising his hand, he slapped her across the face and flipped her so that her cheek was pressed against the wall.

“Shut the fuck up, you, old bat!”

After coming over, Matt yanked her sleeve down, revealing a small tattoo.

“Well, what do we have here?” He grasped her by her head. “That’s the mark of The Samaritans. Another shifter lover. They’re taking over the world, but we’re gonna set things right again.” He spat on the ground at her feet. “Now, seeing that ink, I’m thinking you had something to do with Silas being gone.”

“I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know anything. I never dealt with him other than to say ‘hello’ every once in a while. We kept to our own business.”

Taking the blade, Matt held the tip of it up close to her eye, wide with terror.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, “but you saw something, didn’t you?”

She swallowed hard but kept silent.

“You’d better start talking, or you’ll never see anything again.”

“Two shifters came here a couple of nights ago! They saw those hides Silas was selling. That’s the last time I saw him.”

“What’d they look like?”

“One was taller than the other. Looked like he was seven feet. Huge, extremely muscular. Short slicked-back black hair. Dark eyes. He had to be an alpha, and with his size, his wolf would be impossible to take down.”

“We’ll see about that. And the other?”

“The beta was shorter. Maybe six feet. Built, but not as much as the bigger one. Wavy hair, a dark brownish-blonde. Looked like he needed a haircut. Didn’t catch his eye color.”

“You got all that, Private?”

“Yes, Colonel.”

“What else about Silas?” Matt asked. The woman remained silent, with her gaze pinned on the blade so close to her. “What the fuck happened?”

“They… they…” She looked at Matt, as tremors racked her body. “...skinned him.”

“What?”

In a rush, she went on, “All the hides of their kind that he was selling were gone, but his flayed flesh was pinned on the wall at his stand. The rest of him had been burned up. Once the other vendors saw what had happened to Silas, how he’d been killed and given the same treatment the TMD gave those they captured and murdered, they set what was left of him on fire and tossed his bones in the trash out back.”

“You got rid of evidence of one of those mongrels executing a human?”

“I didn’t do it! It wasn’t me!”

“Complicit, all the same.”

Dylan screamed, “No!” as Matt slit her throat.

Blood flooded from her neck, and as she crumpled to the ground, she stared Matt in the face.

“I hope... they do... the same to you,” she whispered.