Adele

Months Later

The home of the Huntsville pack had a bank, a police station, post office and several eateries offering anything a shifter could want.

And now, it had a dead body, too.

The man sprawled in the middle of Huntsville's Main Street like he'd dropped dead mid run. His T-shirt had been ripped open and someone had yanked his heart out of his chest. It sat next to him, dark with blood.

That was unusual for the small town, but that wasn't what had people raising eyebrows.

The killer had carved my name into the poor man's forehead.   

Me.

Adele.

Well. No wonder people were looking at me funny. At first, I'd thought it was because I was still in my pajamas with a crazy bed-head do—the pack police hadn't given me any time to change. In reality, my problem was the dead body with my name on it. I'd just been slow to catch on.

"Who is it?" The police seemed to expect me to say something. This was the best I could come up with. I glanced at Marie to see what she thought, but she was still fixated on the body, her eyes wide and wrinkles pinched. When the police had wrestled me out of her cabin, the elderly healer had insisted on coming along. Neither of us had expected to see blood and gore with my name on it.

I was glad to have the pack healer at my back, though. She might be old, but she was the kind of bad ass no one messed with. To wit: The first time we met, she'd drugged me and tied me to two trees with silver chains and bled me like a fresh kill. I'd fought it at the time, but I could now admit that maybe I'd needed that. I'd also learned not to fuck with Marie.

She only looked like a sweet grandmother. Once you got to know her, she was anything but. She would be the best defense I could have. Possibly the only defense, given the mood of the crowd around us. The fear and suspicion didn't just fill the air, it made a beeline straight for me.

Ducking my head because it didn't seem safe to meet anyone else's gaze, I studied the man looking for a clue that would explain the latest disaster in my life. He wore tan work boots, ripped jeans and a black T-shirt with a Celtic moon logo on it in electric blue. Most werewolves had a lot of moon themed stuff. It was totemic. I moved on from his clothes to his face, holding my breath in case I recognized him. His dark brown hair curled up at the ends and his eyes were open, unmoving pools that had filled with an unsettling emptiness.

"His name is Daniel. Did you know him?" The pack alpha, Cal hooked his thumbs in the worn belt holding up his belly and gave me a hard look watching my reaction. The big man had welcomed me—a complete stranger—with open arms and a warm smile that had made his eyes twinkle. Now dead bodies were showing up with my name on them, and his warmth had evaporated.   

I didn't blame him for being suspicious. Something had clearly followed me to Huntsville, something horrible and evil. Bleak terror trembled inside me, escaping from the corner in my gut where I kept it locked up. Please let it be something else. Don't let it be me. Not again.

Maybe the pack had another Adele. I hadn't met everyone yet and it was a pretty name. It could happen, right?

Swallowing, I pushed back my inner turmoil and said, "No. Was he part of the pack?" Maybe he was from out-of-town and had pissed off some random Adele out there. It was a big world.

"Yeah." Sadness flashed across his face, deepening his wrinkles.

Well, shit. I scanned the area. Okay, other Adele. Where are you? This is you, not me. I haven't done a damn thing wrong in months. But there was nothing to see except quaint storefronts dating back to the late nineteenth century, built after the pack first settled in Huntsville. And a growing crowd. People had noticed the commotion and were starting to gather.

The dark blot in my mind's eye quivered. It had joined my wolf shortly after I'd arrived in Huntsville, a shadow I couldn't shake. I had no idea what it was or why it had shown up, and I ignored it on the principle that if it wasn't supposed to be there, I could pretend it didn't exist.

I also chose to believe that sooner or later it would fade. Except I'd passed sooner and was well on my way out of later and it was still there, cloaking my wolf like a second skin. She seemed to like it, but she'd also been known to sniff butts, so I found her judgment suspect.

"Where were you last night?" This question came from a man wearing a police uniform. A silver badge on his chest read Chief Mueller. He'd been in the background talking with his fellow officers in low whispers, but now his attention zeroed in on me.

It was morning and early enough that the frost still sparkled in the day's new light. The temperature hadn't quite dipped low enough for snow yet, but I could smell winter in the air. I'd been sleeping when two deputies had banged on the cabin door and summoned me to Huntsville's idea of downtown.

"I was out gathering herbs," I said. Healer-in-training was my new calling, or job, or whatever you wanted to call it. Supposedly, all the big problems in my life had been because I was a healer, gifted with the sixth sense to know what ailed a pack. No one had realized that about me in my home pack, so I'd descended into addiction trying to numb the constant flow of psychic data.

That fun little detour had almost killed me.

My drug habit hurt my sister, too. Lia had come after me, as always, to try and save me. They'd bashed in her head until she'd forgotten who and what she was. At least the alpha who'd done that to her was dead. Mason had been funneling shifters like me into the blood ring for months, getting rich off other shifters' lives. so there'd been a happily-ever-after for her. She and Ryder had settled in a patch of land not far from Huntsville, starting their own brand new pack. I had yet to visit.

I was such a fuck-up.

With a sigh, I accepted that, unless some other Adele fessed up, it looked like my poor life choices were still trying to kill me. I could run, but apparently my past as an addict was keeping up. Who had done this? And why? I wasn't important or special.

"You were alone last night?" The sheriff barked out the question like he didn't believe me.

"Yes."

The sheriff stepped close to me and sniffed deeply.  Then he leaned down and did the same thing to the dead body. "I don't smell you on him."

"Because we weren't together. I don't know this man." I barely knew anyone in Huntsville unless they were a patient of Marie's, and shifters were naturally so healthy they didn't need much medical care. I knew a lot of the old folks in the pack because they needed the most care, but wolves like Daniel, in the prime of their lives, didn't get sick.

"She came back with all the herbs I asked for, Sheriff." Marie's calm voice carried in the morning air. She lifted her chin, daring the sheriff to challenge her. Unlike me, she'd had the presence of mind to grab a pale pink robe to cover her white nightgown. Her silver hair hung in a thick braid down her back, looking sleek and polished next to my frizzy 'toss 'n' turn' do. Pajamas, yes, but fit for a queen.

The sheriff straightened and gave me a contemplative look. "She didn't take too long?"

"No. In fact, she was faster than I expected. She didn't have time to do what you're accusing her of."

"All right. You can go, but I'll be by later with more questions."

Something zoomed in the periphery of my left eye, moving so fast, I couldn't react in time to keep it from slamming into me. I went down, street gravel slashing my back. Fists pounded my shoulder and face. I put up my hands to protect myself. Through my fingers I saw it had been a woman who'd tackled me, her face twisted into a flushed scowl.

"God damn whore. You killed my Daniel. Moon curse you." My assailant's voice cracked, and she began to wail like a siren.

Strong hands came in and pulled her off me. More hands helped me to my feet, and Marie wiped dust off my pajamas, which the gravel had shredded until the lower half of my top and shorts hung in uneven tatters.

"Sheri, stop," Cal said holding a petite blonde's chin in his hands so she was forced to look at him.

Sheri twisted her head free and shot me a glare. "Whore! You let this whore into our pack, Cal, and now look what's happened."

"I'm not a whore." I stalked over to her. "I'm an addict. There's a difference." I'd decided to be honest about my mistakes so they couldn't be held against me behind my back. Might as well get all the rotten stuff out in the open, right? Let people process it and give me a chance.

"Addict, whore, bitch," she growled at me.

Great. I'd just given her more slurs to throw my way. Being open was going well.

"Adele," Marie chided, taking me by the elbow and guiding me away. "Daniel was her mate. You can't reason with her right now."

"Oh. Sorry," I said, instantly feeling all kinds of stupid. I didn't have a mate. Washed up, used as a dirty needle, I was no one's fantasy mate. I had no real idea of how she felt, but thanks to my healer empathy, I got a good dose of the despair that filled Sheri.

A headache throbbed in my temples, and the black cloud in my head darkened, looming over my wolf like a storm.

Tires squealed to my right and a black Dodge pick-up truck raced toward us. From the other end of the street came a pale blue Ford pick-up.

"What's going on?" I asked, rubbing my head. Pack energy pressed against me from all sides, thick and heavy enough to bury me. I'd learned that all my problems stemmed from an ability to tap into a pack's emotions. I couldn't shut it out unless I had help. Hence the whole recovering addict thing. Growing up, no had told me what it was, what I was, so I'd come up with my own solutions. Namely, all the wrong things. As it turned out, kids weren't so great at fixing big problems.

Marie gave me a worried look. "I don't know."

Brakes screeched and the trucks pulled right up to the dead body, stopping short of running him over. The drivers, both men, hopped out of the car, all shouting at once.

"Wait a minute, folks. One person at a time." The sheriff held up a hand.

The men kept talking over one another, their voices booming so loud it was hard to make out any words. More people arrived, some running, some driving in a mix of trucks and jeeps. Several had shifted and bounded toward us, all four paws flying over the ground. Word had gotten out about Daniel and everyone had come running. With the pack all gathering in the same spot, the energy of Huntsville coalesced into a whole. The force of it made me taut as a branch bent to its breaking point.

"Easy." Marie put a hand on my shoulder and loaned me some of her unflappable calm. She did it so easily, but I still struggled to shut out the psychic energy of the people around me. It made me want to run screaming, but Marie didn't even blink.

The noise level reached a roar punctuated by a cacophony of howls from the wolves. The sheriff tried to quiet people down several times before finally pulling his gun and shooting a nearby oak with a broad trunk. That got everyone's attention.

"Everyone quiet!" He pointed to the guy who'd jumped out of the Dodge pick-up. "What's set your tail on fire, son?"

"I woke up this morning and my mate wasn't there. I thought she'd gone for a run, but when she didn't come back, I went looking for her.  I-I-I found her in the creek. Dead." The man clapped a hand over his face, scrubbing away tears. "When I rolled her over, her heart had been torn out and the name Adele had been carved on her forehead."

Total silence fell over the crowd. My own heart stuttered in my chest. More than one person had died with my name on their flesh?

The sheriff pointed to Daniel's body. "Did it look like this?"

The man nodded, and then his gaze fell on me. "It's her. She did this." He began to walk over to me, but two deputies headed him off.

The sheriff heaved a sigh and shot me a dark look. Turning to the Ford driver, he said, "And you. What's your business?"

"Same thing happened to my mate." This guy also made to come at me, but the deputies stepped in once again.

"I didn't kill anyone," I said to Marie.

"Well, whoever's doing the killing sure knows who you are," she muttered back. "And they want us to know they know."

My wolf stirred, concerned. She urged me to run. It didn't sound like a bad idea. There was a lot of anger directed my way. If the Huntsville pack believed I was out murdering their pack mates, I would be torn limb from limb.

Marie grabbed my elbow."Come on. Let's go. They don't need us here anymore, and we don't want to add to the trouble." She nodded to a deputy. "We'll be at my cabin if you need us."

"Wait just a second," said the Sherriff. "You're not leaving here alone." He nodded to a tall, lanky deputy. "You go with them. Stay with Adele. Where she goes, you go."

"But, Sheriff—" I started.

He cut me off and stabbed a finger in my direction. "Until we know what's happening, you are to be accompanied by a deputy at all times. If you don't like it, I can put you in a cell."

"A deputy is fine," Marie said shooting me a look that said, 'shut up or else.'

"Marie! Adele!" A deep baritone shouted our names.

I turned to see Jackson racing toward us, his eyes wild with what I took to be panic. When Cal stepped down, Jackson would be the pack alpha, and he usually conducted himself with a quiet authority. Just then, though, he waved us down like he was trying to fly, and his eyes were wide as a full moon.

My heart sank. Oh no. Not Chloe. Please don't say she's dead. I chanted that over and over in my head. I'd come to know her because of her pregnancy. Marie and I visited her weekly checking in on her and the baby. It was a boy according to Marie, who said she could tell by Chloe's scent, and he was due any second.

"What is it, Jackson?" Marie asked. "Is everything okay?"

"Chloe's water just broke." A broad smile burst across his face, but his brow furrowed with worry. He cleared his throat, fighting to talk. His voice a tight little squeak, he said, "We're going to have a baby." 

And then he saw the dead body and we had to do a hell of a lot of explaining to catch him up.

***

It was a very sober father-to-be who took us to see Chloe. We drove in silence, not even turning on the radio. The deputy hitched a ride in the truck bed. The chief hadn't wanted to give up a cruiser that would just end up parked at Jackson's house.

Jackson drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. A pang went through me at the way he struggled with his duties to the pack and his obligation to his mate. If this all ended up being my fault, how would I ever forgive myself?  How would they? I didn't want to think about it.

"I should go back and help with the investigation," he said, both hands tightening on the steering wheel of his truck. "I'll shift and you can drive out to the house."

Marie shook her head. "Your child is our pack's future, Jackson. And your mate needs you. Cal and the sheriff can deal with this."

"Yeah, I guess so." He rubbed his forehead with one hand.

"And we keep this quiet until after the birthing is done. She doesn't need that kind of worry on her mind right now," Marie said.

Jackson nodded his agreement. Then, turning to look at me, he asked, "Why was your name on Daniel's forehead?"

"I wish I knew," I said. My fingers itched for my cell phone. I needed to tell my sister, to warn her. What if whatever had come to Huntsville came for her too?