Destiny sat in his bedroom, at his office desk, with the door locked. Not once in the past several years had he ever locked that door. In fact, he hadn’t even been entirely sure that it did have a bolt to keep it from being opened. Really, it was an unnecessary precaution. What he was doing wasn’t exactly illegal or even suspicious in any way at all. It was exactly what anyone would expect him to be doing.

All the same, he felt better with the door shut.

For the past several days, in addition to his regular work, he went around doing research on the topic of who exactly in his pack might be responsible for these attacks. He didn’t believe anyone was, but he knew that he couldn’t eliminate that possibility without reason.

Now he had reason because the dozens of interviews had all led to dead ends. No one had seen anything suspicious. No one had taken his knife, or noticed his knife was missing, or seen his knife in an odd place. Those who gave him stories that they had been in other locations at the time he asked about, quickly had their alibis cemented when others professed to have seen them.

There was no deception anywhere. One of his own hadn’t done it. He was damn sure of that.

Then the police had dropped by with some questions that made it quite obvious they thought he was guilty of something.

Destiny blamed this visit on Brock. He fumed inwardly the entire time.

On the outside, he was nothing but helpful. He told the police exactly what he suspected was going on, then handed all his interview papers and notes to them to be photographed. The fact he was so willing to assist with the investigation was what seemed to convince the cops most of all, and they left without charging him or accusing him of anything.

Now he was at a loss, staring at a brick wall and wondering what was on the other side. If he picked and picked and picked at it, he might get somewhere; on the other hand, he might end up with bloody fingers and a great deal of regret. The police were involved now. The professionals could take it from here. Their job was to protect the city and its people, after all.

That’s a biker’s job, too, Destiny reminded himself. He reached across his desk for a pen, doodling listlessly on the corner of one of the papers laid out in front of him.

Someone tried his door, the knob jangling stiffly. Then, they knocked.

“Come in,” Destiny automatically called.

“Can’t. Fucking door’s locked.”

That was Cain’s voice, mildly amused. There was something else to his tone, an edge of what seemed to be bafflement. He had a right to be confused though, due to the locked door.

“Sorry, I forgot. Force of habit.” Destiny pushed himself away from the desk, the wheels of his chair scraping roughly across the worn rug. “I’m coming.”

He crossed to the door in only a few strides, unlocked it, and opened it wide. Right away, he saw the real reason Cain sounded so confused. It wasn’t the door, but rather the person accompanying him.

An omega man, smelling of blood and illness, peered at him from beneath tangled brown curls. The angles of his face seemed too sharp underneath his skin, his expression haggard. Shadowy smudges covered the soft skin underneath his eyes, making him look as if he had misunderstood where eyeshadow makeup was supposed to go.

“Markus!” Destiny exclaimed. “What the hell happened to you? You look awful!”

“You’re not looking so great yourself,” Markus muttered. He sounded nothing like himself, his voice unusually quiet and small. “You said if I needed to come see you, I could just come right here. So, I need to see you. And here I am.”

Cain sounded vaguely amazed when he spoke. “He just shuffled right up to me when I was standing outside. Asked to be taken to you. Didn’t you say that you walked all the way here?”

“Tried to catch a bus, but I was too slow and I missed it.” Markus shrugged a little. “Dusty, I really need to talk to you.”

“Sure,” Destiny replied. He looked hastily back over his shoulder, hoping there was nothing embarrassing out on display. Wouldn’t this just be the one time he left some porn lying out?

Luckily, there was nothing.

Cain took a few steps back, putting some distance between himself and the others. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, Markus, but I hope you do. And you, Dusty, I hope you’re confident about having him here.”

“I am,” Destiny said, as firmly as he could. His heart was pounding in his chest and his mouth was suddenly dryer than it had been a few minutes ago, but he would never back down on this decision. Something important was afoot.

“Then, that’s good enough for me. Let me know if you two need anything.”

Then Cain was gone, his heavy footsteps echoing and finally fading.

Destiny turned to face Markus again, more alarmed than ever now that they were alone. His ex did look absolutely like hell, especially as he was noticing more and more details. His face was pale, his skin clammy, and his posture lacking. When he walked into the bedroom, he moved with the penguin like shuffling of a man three times his age.

After shutting and locking the door again, Destiny went over to his chair and grabbed it. He set it down several feet away from Markus, who had taken up a spot on the bed, spun it around, and then straddled it backwards. Leaning over the back, he lowered his head far enough so he could peer up into Markus’ dark eyes. “What happened?” he asked. “How did you get hurt? And where are you hurt? And who did it, so I can fucking kill them?”

“We don’t know who did it.”

Markus told him everything that had occurred, from the brutal attack that put him and Jacob in the hospital, to Brock’s new rules and refusal to listen.

“Holy shit,” Destiny whispered. Every last instinct he possessed was demanding he go over to Markus and hug him tightly, kiss him on his hurt places, promise it would all be better soon. His heart ached so much that his chest and throat felt like they were swelling up from some actual abrasion inflicted upon his soul. “And you walked all the way here? Why didn’t you call me? Or something? I could have come gotten you.”

Markus shrugged, winced. To see him be in pain made Destiny ache all the more. “I didn’t want to stick around there much longer, if you know what I mean. Home, that is. Sorry, hard to think.”

“Take your time.” Destiny reached out, then hesitated. His hand froze in the air in front of him, then dropped down like a rock again.

Markus watched all of this, didn’t really seem to care much about it either way. “That meeting was yesterday, and Brock has been just unbearable ever since. And…” He bit his lip. Destiny wanted to rescue it, restrained himself from doing so successfully this time. “There’s more bad news. Pockets died.”

For a moment, Destiny couldn’t move. He could feel his jaw had become unhinged, was dangling in a most unseemly manner. “What?” was all he could manage.

“Pockets died,” Markus repeated.

Shaking his head, Destiny got up from his chair. He didn’t know what to do with himself, and he paced around the room and came back. He sat down on the edge of the bed this time, perching there for an instant, then moved back to his desk chair and sank down. The urge to keep moving around was deep-seated inside him, making him feel like a caged animal, causing him to lift up his hands and push them back through his hair.

“How?” he asked. His voice choked on the word and he tried again. “How did it happen? He was healing.”

“The word right now is that it was a blood clot that formed after he was attacked. It made its way to his brain. Apparently it was pretty bad. He died in less than a minute, from what they can tell.” Markus’ shoulders slumped. “And that’s not all.”

There’s more? There can’t be more. The world can’t be that cruel.

“Jacob killed himself.”

“But he could hardly have been conscious!”

The wolf had just gone through surgery and had more scheduled. He was in the intensive care unit. How could he have done something like this, so soon? And why?

“I know. And I don’t know why he did it. He somehow got out of his bed and went on the roof. And then he…he jumped.”

Destiny knew why. Jacob lost his third leg. It was what made him Jacob. What he thought made him the individual he was. Pushing his hands against his forehead, Destiny squeezed his eyes shut tight. God, this couldn’t be possible. Denial ran rampant through him, cavorting and cartwheeling in his thoughts. “Whoever’s behind all this has two deaths on their hands now. They will not get away with this. I won’t let it.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Markus said, very quietly. “For some reason, you and I are the only ones who have any sort of common sense about this. The man who attacked us this second time, he called you the Shade Claws. Not Shadow Claws. And he called Ralphie, Ralph. Stuff that was close but just not correct. Like he only heard about them from a distance.”

“Eavesdropping. Spying. Someone trying to frame me, frame my pack, using whatever dirt they can get. But why?” Destiny thumped his fist on his thigh. It didn’t hurt. His leg was too muscular, his body too tense for that. “For fuck’s sake, why? What are they hoping to gain?”

“I think that’s obvious.”

Surprised, Destiny looked over at Markus.

Markus shrugged, seeming a little embarrassed. “I mean, it seems obvious to me because of the way my thoughts are working right now. I could be wrong, but at the same time I can’t imagine anything else. They’re trying to get our groups to fight. They want us to hurt and kill each other.”

“And after that, you think whoever this is will move in and pick up the pieces for their own gain.”

Markus nodded. “That’s what I think. I tried to tell Brock that this seemed all wrong, but he wouldn’t listen to me. I…I need your help, okay? You have to look into this with me. You have to help or things are going to get real bad, real fast.”

Destiny reached out again and this time he didn’t stop himself. Picking up Markus’ hand, he held it gently between his own. “Markus, I’m with you. I know we’ve had our differences, but in this, I’m with you. Let’s get to the bottom of this, you and me.”

After all, they both wanted the same thing. It made sense to combine their efforts. Two heads were better than one.

And that’s all this is. Isn’t it?

It was nothing more than a union of their thoughts, meant to figure out this dilemma. That was all. When this was all over, they would both go back to their respective packs and everything would be the same again.

Markus gave a wobbly smile. Destiny thought that he might try to pull away but instead he leaned forward a little, lifting his other hand to clasp at their joined fingers. “Thank you. Where do we start?”

Ignoring the little tingle of warmth that started deep inside him, Destiny gestured with his chin in the general direction of his desk. “I already got started. I have spoken with every single member of my pack that I’ve seen. That’s all our regulars. We’ve got a few outliers here and there who only pop in on occasion, and I’ll keep an eye out for them. But, I don’t think that will turn up anything significant. Nothing has so far.”

“If it was someone from your pack who was doing this, it’d be more likely to be someone loyal to you,” Markus agreed. “Like, really loyal. Constantly here.”

“That’s what I thought. You can look at my notes if you like.”

Markus shook his head. “I trust you. I wish I could do the same thing for my own pack, try to get them to talk to me, but Brock has them convinced that I’m pretty much worthless right now.”

“Bastard.”

“No.”

Destiny leaned back a little, surprised at the vehemence of that denial. Even Markus looked startled at the strength of his own conviction. “What I mean is, yeah, he’s a knucklehead. A huge jerk. So fucking thick. But he really thinks he’s doing the right thing.”

“Remind you of your opinions of someone else?” Destiny asked, sarcastically.

But Markus shook his head again. “No. The problem with you is that sometimes you’re too smart.”

“I want to take that as a compliment.”

“You would.”

God, how easy it was to fall back on their old banter. That was really how they had connected so well in the first place, teasing each other, mocking each other, disguising meaning beneath layers of humor. Destiny took so much pleasure in untangling the knots of their conversation that it hadn’t occurred to him that Markus might not feel exactly the same way. Markus just liked the feel of it. By the time he figured that out, their relationship had already ended. Hindsight really was 20/20.

Markus fidgeted with his own fingers, keeping his gaze down. He looked as if his head might be hurting him, or maybe he was trying to hide from Destiny’s gaze. “I don’t know if it would even be worth anything to talk to everyone, anyway. Would members of LF deliberately attack other members? I think I would have recognized the shifter who killed Jacob if he was one of our own. He was pretty unforgettable.”

Destiny pondered that possibility. “Could Brock be doing this?”

They looked right at each other and said, “No,” at the same time. Markus smiled a little and Destiny found himself chuckling, too. He might have his own opinions about the other leader but there was just no way in hell Brock could have orchestrated this whole plot on his own. He was just much too direct. He had already said the wolves from SC were going to have to watch their backs after taking Ralphie Green away from his rightful pack. If he was going to follow up on that promise, he would have done it out in the open instead of plotting something sneaky like this.

“So, we have two options here.” Destiny held up his index finger. “Brock is doing this, but he decided he would need some help with it. So, he hires someone or a group of someone’s to start causing trouble with LF, so he can blame it on us. That explains why the shifter who attacked you had the details close, but overall incorrect.”

“Highly unlikely,” Markus replied. “My brother is way too proud to ever think that he needs help.”

“Right.” Destiny nodded, pleased that they were on the same page. He held up his middle finger now as well, making a narrow peace sign. “Which leaves the second option. Someone from outside our packs is definitely doing this to take advantage of all of us.”

Markus nodded. His topaz eyes darkened with worry. “Which means your pack could be next.”

That was what he was afraid of, put out there in the open. Destiny shuddered, chilled fingers sweeping up and down his spine. “I’m going to have to figure out a way to tell everyone to be cautious without making them fearful. Great. But what I think we should do for now is just watch and listen. Pay very close attention to anything that looks or sounds wrong. The police are in on this, which means the rest of the city is going to start hearing about it. Weird sightings in the news is mainly what we’re going to be looking for. Some hint that gives us a place to start.”

“Got it,” Markus replied. He set his hands down on either side of the mattress, as if he was about to stand. Bracing himself against his chair, Destiny prepared to stand up if the other wolf needed a hand. “How should we stay in touch? I’m not sure how often I should come back here. Your wolves will start talking.”

Yes, they will. Damn right.

“And you can’t come to my side. Brock would skin you alive and mount your pelt on the wall.”

“You can call me. Or text. We can set up meetings if either of us finds anything. Let me get my number for you.”

“Wait.” Markus held up one hand. “Is it still the same as it used to be?”

“Yes.”

Some color finally returned to Markus’ face, this time in the form of a blush. “Then, I’ve still got it. I should probably get going. I need to think of some excuse for Brock about where I’ve been. If he even notices I’ve been gone.”

Pressing his hands down against the mattress, Markus slid forward and put his feet on the ground. He hesitated for a moment and then stood, wobbling. Destiny started to rise, only to be waved away. Though it went against his better nature, he sat back down and just watched Markus toddle over to the bedroom door.

The omega opened it and stepped through, pausing just before his shoulders passed all the way through. “See you around, Dusty.” Then, he was gone.

Destiny looked at the crack in the doorway, where Markus hadn’t shut it all the way, and wondered if that opening might hint at the future. Something would be coming in through the gap. Whether it would be good or bad, there was no way of knowing.