"Oh, I have no doubt you're dangerous, lady," he said softly, his blue eyes glinting. "The question is, are you a murderer or merely a fruitcake?"

Chapter 9

Murderer. The word seemed to echo around my aching brain with a resonance that was both familiar and frightening.

Was I a murderer?

No, something inside said. Then, frighteningly, yes.

I grabbed my coffee with a hand that was shaking, and wasn't entirely sure whether it was due to the weakness still washing through my body or that whispered revelation. I finished the coffee in one quick gulp that scalded my throat, then pushed to my feet. The room spun violently, and it was only my grip on the table that kept me upright.

"Am I under arrest?" I said, through gritted teeth.

"Not yet." He leaned back in his chair and continued to study me through slightly narrowed eyes. "But you and your brother should consider yourselves to be persons of interest."

"If you do the damn check, you'll discover we shouldn't be." I spun and headed for the front door.

A chair scraped backward, then footsteps followed me up the hall. "One more question," he said, as I flung open the front door.

"What?" I said it without looking back or even stopping.

"There's very little blood on your car and the damage - though extensive - doesn't look recent. Also, if you hit the roo hard enough to roll the car several times, why isn't its body anywhere in the immediate vicinity?"

Interesting observations, both of them. "Can I see the car?"

"No. And don't leave town, Hanna." He said it softly, but his words seemed to echo across the night as I retreated down the street.

I was a suspect.

And the worst of it was, even I wasn't so sure that I shouldn't be. Everything was so screwed up - both this situation and my mind - that right now, anything seemed possible.

I hit the main street and turned to head back to the villa, then paused.

Harris had said that Evin used the phone in the pub. Why would he do that when there was a perfectly usable phone at the villa?

With curiosity stirring, I spun around and headed for the pub. It was easy enough to find. All you had to do was follow the noise. Music and laughter ran riot through the air, and the aromas of wolves, beer, sweat, and humanity overlapped one another - a mix that was both enticing and repellant.

The building reminded me of something you'd see in an old Western. It might have been constructed out of red brick rather than wood, but it was two stories, with wide verandas on both levels and old-fashioned swinging doors.

Obviously, no one was worried about security in this place. But then, if this was a werewolf town, it'd be a brave soul that tried to steal anything.

I pushed through the doors and stepped into the main bar. The place was packed, and it was hard to see the bar let alone Evin or a phone.

I looked around for a moment, then approached a group of women standing to the left of the doorway. Three were wolves, the other two human.

"Excuse me," I said, catching the eye of the tallest woman. She had dark skin, dark hair, and a somewhat broad nose, and she reminded me a little of Harris, except that her eyes were a warm brown. "Can you tell me if there's a public phone here?" I had to raise my voice to be heard above the din.

"At the back," she shouted, pointing with her glass.

I waved her a thanks and headed that way. Everyone was so tightly packed it was difficult to get past anyone without actually touching them, and while the experience wasn't exactly unpleasant, it wasn't really exciting, either. Which was weird. I mean, I was a female werewolf without a mate, and this bar was full of males in the prime - and not so prime - of their lives. Once upon a time, I would have been dancing and flirting, and generally having a good time as I squished past them all. But my soul mate was dead and it felt like a chore. Like something I had to put up with, then escape.

No, that little voice inside whispered, it's not that. Ben lost his soul mate, and he still desires. He can still enjoy sex and the company of others.

I didn't even bother trying to recall who Ben was. My memories were obviously going to take their own sweet time returning.

I eventually found the phones at the rear of the room near the two bathrooms, but Evin wasn't there. Maybe he'd made his call and was somewhere else in this cauldron of humanity and wolves. I couldn't smell him, but that wasn't really surprising given the sheer number of male wolves in the room.

I found a spare chair in the corner and stepped up, looking out over the sea of dark heads in an attempt to find a red-gold one. There were several blonds and the occasional brown, but no redheads. Maybe he'd gone back to the villa.

I stepped down and pushed my way back through the crowd. But I was barely halfway across the room when I ran nose first into a rather solid-looking chest. It felt like I was hitting a brick wall.

"Ouch," I said, rubbing my nose as I stepped back and looked up. And up. Christ, he had to be at least six and a half feet tall.

His skin, like that of many of the wolves in the room, was dark, and his face was flat and broad of nose. His mouth was small and pinched looking, and his eyes ...

Something within me shivered.

His eyes were brown, but there was little warmth in them, little humanity.

"Little lady, you just spilled my drink."

"Sorry." Then I glanced at his hands and realized he wasn't even holding a glass. My gaze shot up to his again. There was something snakelike about his smile. "Would you mind moving out of my way?"

There were several men behind him, watching the two of us and smiling in anticipation. I had a feeling that this - whatever this was - was a game they'd played often.

"I'm afraid I can't move until I get a kiss in replacement for my drink." He reached for my waist, but I slapped his hand away.

Something flickered in his eyes. He didn't like being rejected. Well, tough.

"Move," I said. "Or I will make you move."

He laughed and glanced over his shoulder. "Hear that? You think I should be scared?"

"Please," I said, with the barest hint of a growl running through my voice. "Just move."

He grabbed me, moving so fast I didn't have time to stop him, and dragged me against his body. He smelled of old sweat and rotting grass. Not a pleasant combination.

"Kiss me," he said, as the men behind him began to egg him on, "and then you can go. Just one little kiss."

"Over my dead body."

"It would be my pleasure," he whispered, and swooped.

I shifted my face so that the kiss landed on my cheek rather than my lips then reached back, grabbing his fingers and yanking them backward as hard as I could. Bone snapped and he hissed in pain. But pleasure flicked through his eyes and his excitement surged around me, thick and hungry.

He got off on pain. Great.

So I gave him something else to get happy about, and kneed him in the nuts as hard as I could. And apparently I was stronger than I knew, because he went down like a ton of bricks. His friends - charmers that they were -

jumped out of the way rather than trying to help him.

"I did ask you nicely to move," I said, then looked up as the crowd parted and footsteps approached, to meet the gaze of an unhappy-looking Harris. The man obviously had a nose for trouble.

He looked from me to the man-mountain writhing on the floor, and I swear a slight smile touched his lips. But when his gaze met mine again, his expression was all dour and businesslike.

"I guess I should have also warned you to stay out of trouble," he said, voice heavy.

I held up my hands. "Hey, he grabbed me and wouldn't let go, even though I did ask nicely."

He glanced down at the man unconscious on the floor, then motioned to the two men who'd let their friend fall.

"Get him out of here."

They scrambled to obey, dragging their unconscious friend out the door. It was interesting to note that no one seemed too worried about the fact that he'd been felled by a stranger.

Harris's gaze came back to me. There was little emotion to be seen in the blue of his eyes, and once again it reminded me of someone else. I wished I could remember who.

"I think you'd better come with me." His gravelly voice was firm, and it was obvious he wouldn't take no for an answer.

Of course, part of me wanted to say just that, but it wasn't exactly the wisest course of action when I had no idea what the hell was going on. So I blew out a frustrated breath and followed him out of the bar. At least I didn't have to fight my way through - the crowd parted for Harris as easily as the sea for Moses.

"I'll escort you home," he said, once we were out the door. "Just to ensure you don't get yourself into any more trouble."

"I can handle myself." I rubbed my arms lightly. The night air seemed a lot cooler now than it had when I'd entered the bar. Maybe my sunburn was finally starting to heal.

"You probably can, but Denny doesn't like being taken down by anyone, let alone by a woman." His blue gaze met mine, assessing, calculating. A wolf undecided whether I was friend or foe. It was mutual. "Watch yourself, because he's likely to seek retribution."

I raised my eyebrows. "So warn him off."

"I will. But it won't make a blind bit of difference. And until he actually tries something, I can't do anything."

"If he tries to get back at me, he'll regret it."

He didn't smile. Didn't frown. Didn't really react in any way at all, in fact. It made me wonder at the reasons for the tight control.

"His dad is the pack second," he said evenly. "He's well connected, so watch how you react."

Don't damage him too much, in other words. I smiled grimly and shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans. "So what pack runs this town?"

"West. Remy West is the leader, although you won't often see him in town. He dislikes tourists."

That raised my eyebrows. "Then why open the town for tourism? If these lands are pack owned, you have the legal right to restrict entry."

He snorted softly. "Not if the land has some significant natural feature. In such cases, the government insists it be available for all."

"And Dunedan has a significant natural feature other than red dust, heat, and ocean?"

Amusement briefly twitched his lips and lent his stern features a surprising amount of warmth. "We have what is known as a fringing reef, which means the coral starts right at the water's edge. It's rare, and therefore significant."

"I'm guessing the pack makes a whole lot of money from that significant feature."

"We all live rather comfortably," he agreed.

I studied him for a moment, then said, "You don't look like the rest of the pack. Why's that?"

He slanted me a sideways glance. "You don't mind getting personal, do you?"

I shrugged. "When you can't remember anything of importance, you quickly learn to ask questions, personal or not."

He was silent for a moment, but his gaze roamed across the darkness and there was an alertness about him that suggested he was ready for trouble. If that trouble was Denny, then he could relax. Werewolf or not, I didn't think he'd be capable of walking for a day or so. I really had hit him hard.

"My mother came from a different pack, hence the blue eyes and lighter skin."

"And I'm guessing the pack never let you forget that you weren't entirely one of them."

His gaze flicked to me. "What makes you think that?"

"Because I know what it feels like to be unwanted by the pack."

"That's an odd statement," he said, "given your brother has been heard to say that his upbringing was happy."

I shrugged. "That doesn't mean mine was."

"Indeed." But again, I got the impression he just didn't believe me.

The caravan park came into view. Few lights were on and the caravans were little more than hulking shapes in the darkness. The perfect place for an ambush, except the cool air was free of any scent. The only people out in this darkness were Harris and myself.

"I can make it the rest of the way by myself," I said. "You don't need to baby-sit me."

"I'm protecting my packmates, not you." It was said as flatly as he said everything else, but this time, the teasing hint of amusement touching his lips also reached his eyes.

I smiled. "Good night, Officer Harris. I daresay I'll be seeing you around."

"Not in any official capacity, I hope."

I raised my eyebrows. "Does that mean you're open to unofficial approaches?"

"No. It simply means stay out of trouble."

"I'm not sure I'm capable of doing that." And the truth of that statement echoed right through my very being.

Trouble and I were old mates. Of that I was sure.

"Good night, Hanna," he said, then turned and loped off into the darkness. I watched him disappear, then headed past the caravans and to the villa.

Evin was sitting on the sofa drinking a beer, his bare feet up on the coffee table. "There's more in the fridge,"

he said, as I entered the room and closed the glass sliding door.

"Thanks, but I'm more a champagne person." And why wouldn't my own brother know that? I dropped down on the other sofa and crossed my legs. "So tell me about our pack."

He raised a pale eyebrow. "Why? You'll remember it soon enough."

"Maybe. Maybe not." I hesitated, then added, "You had a happy childhood?"

"Why?"