“I—I DIDN’T…” DEREK BEGAN.
He scrambled out from under Liam. The werewolf’s body fell, limp, to the side, his head twisted, neck broken.
Derek swallowed. The sound echoed in the silence.
“I didn’t—I just—I was trying to stop him.”
“You didn’t mean it,” I said softly. “But he did.”
He looked at me, eyes refusing to focus.
“He would have killed you,” I said. “Killed both of us, if it came down to it. You might not have meant to do it, but…”
I didn’t finish. I could have said the world was better off without Liam, but we both knew the point wasn’t whether Liam deserved to die, but whether Derek deserved the guilt of killing someone. He didn’t.
“
“It wasn’t a fight to the death for you. But it was for him.”
Derek nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, wincing as his fingers hit a scrape.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. Just a few cuts and bruises. I heal fast. Might need a stitch or two here—”
He glanced down at the blood-smeared cut on his side…and realized he wasn’t wearing any clothing. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t realized it already. Kind of obvious. It wasn’t like he’d been going to take time out to find his clothing before stopping Liam.
Fortunately, under the circumstances, I hadn’t had time to dwell on the lack of clothing. With the fighting and, now, as he crouched, I hadn’t seen any more than I had when he was in his shorts. That didn’t keep him from turning bright red.
I peeled off my jacket and wordlessly handed it to him, and he tied it around his waist with a mumbled, “Thanks.” Then, “We should get going.”
Only we didn’t get going. We lapsed into silence, with Derek still crouched beside Liam’s body, his head down, hair hanging around his face, his back and arms covered in a sheen of sweat. He shivered.
“I’ll go get your clothes,” I said, pushing to my feet.
He caught my elbow. “Ramon.”
“Right.”
I blinked hard, feeling fuzzy—from shock, I guess. One of us had to kick-start their brain, and Derek seem stalled, unable to stop staring at the man he’d killed.
“We need to move him,” I said. “At least into the brush for now, to cover the body. Then we’ll have to come back tomorrow and bury him.”
I couldn’t believe what I was saying. Hiding a body? A body?
And what’s the alternative? Leave him lying in the path and hope none of the neighbors ever walks through here?
Body disposal might be something I never expected to do outside a screenplay, but this was my life now. Adjust or give up.
I stood and took Liam’s arm, giving it a tentative tug.
“I’ve got it.” Derek rose. “I’ll carry him. We can’t leave drag marks or anything, and we’ll need to bury him right away, so no dogs find him.”
“Bury who?” said a voice beside me.
I jumped so high, my heart rammed into my throat.
“Chloe?” Derek said.
I turned to see Liam walking toward us.
“Chloe?” Derek said again.
“It’s L-Liam. His ghost.”
Liam stopped. “Ghost?” He looked at me, then at his body, on the ground. He swore.
“You’re dead,” I said.
“So I see. That must make you one of those people who can talk to the dead and”—he glanced at the bodies of the dog and rabbit, lips curling—“raise the dead.”
His gaze returned to his own corpse, and he swore again.
I cleared my throat. “As long as you’re here, I have some questions.”
He looked at me, brows lifting. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No.” I knelt beside his body and reached into his pocket.
“Chloe?” Derek moved closer, frowning.
I took out Liam’s cell phone. “Someone called him. Someone who seems to have set the whole thing up, someone who knew me, my name.” I looked at Liam’s ghost. “Who is it?”
He choked on a laugh. “Seriously? I just died. Your boyfriend there killed me. You really expect me to stick around and chat? Love to, but I’m a little traumatized right now. Maybe later.”
He turned to leave. I raced into his path.
“You’re about to go to the afterlife,” I said. “This is your last chance to do something good.”
“Huh, well, since you put it that way…” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not interested in second chances. I didn’t do a thing that I regret. If you want answers…”
He stepped up, towering over me. I resisted the urge to back away, but I must have stiffened, because Derek moved closer and whispered, “Don’t let him harass you.”
“Harass her?” Liam said. “She’s the one who can’t get enough of my company.” He looked down at me again. “As I was saying, if you want answers, find them yourself. And try to have some fun while you’re at it, because I have a feeling I’m going to be seeing you again real soon…over on this side.”
Derek’s hand tightened on my arm. When I tried to pull away, he leaned down and whispered, “Let him go. It’s not worth it.”
“Listen to your boyfriend, cutie,” Liam called as he strode away.
I pulled myself up straight. “What did you think of my zombies?”
Liam stopped, turned slowly.
I waved at the dead dog. “Do you know how I did it?”
“Do I care?”
“You should. Necromancers raise the dead by sending a spirit—a ghost, like you—back into a corpse, where it’s under my control, as you saw. It works the same for animals and people. So either you answer my questions, or I’m shoving you back in there.” I pointed at his dead body.
He laughed. “I’d say you’ve got balls, but that’d be kinda inappropriate.”
“Do you think I’m kidding?”
He answered by turning his back and walking away. I closed my eyes and imagined tugging him toward his corpse, just a little pull.
“Hey,” he said. “Hey!”
I opened my eyes to see him straining against an unseen force.
“Did you think I was bluffing?”
I ramped it up a notch and he stumbled. I gave another tug. His ghost shot a few feet toward his body.
“Okay, fine,” he spat at me. “What do you want to know?”
“Who hired you?”
“You’ve got the phone. Figure it out.”
I told Derek what Liam said, then asked, “Was it the Edison Group?”
His face screwed up. “The electric company?”
“Was it a man named Marcel Davidoff?”
“Who?”
“Diane Enright?”
“He’s right,” Derek whispered. “You’ve got the phone. Ask something else.”
“When you found us the first time, in the playground, you said you’d pulled off the road and picked up Derek’s scent. That was a lie, wasn’t it?”
“Everyone lies, sweetheart. Get used to it.”
“Someone hired you to get rid of Derek.”
“You’ve figured it out. So you don’t need me—”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do they want him gone?” I asked.
“Because I’m a werewolf,” Derek said. “Like Andrew said, no one wants us around.”
“Bingo, pup. It’s a lesson best learned early. They’re all afraid of us.” He strolled over to Derek. “You’re trying to be a good kid, aren’t you? You think that’ll show them they’re wrong. So, how’s that working out for you? Guess what? They don’t care. To them, you’re a monster, and nothing you do—or don’t do—will change their minds. My advice? Give ’em what they want. It’s a short, brutal life.” He smiled. “Live it up.”
Derek stared straight ahead, patiently waiting.
“He can’t hear a word I’m saying, can he?” Liam said.
“Nope.”
He swore. “Here I try to impart some final pearls of wisdom to the next gener—”
Liam disappeared. I jumped, startled, then looked around.
“Chloe?”
“He’s gone.”
“Left?”
“No, he just—” I kept looking, but couldn’t see any ghostly shimmer. “He was talking and then he vanished, like someone yanked him over to the other side.”
“What did he say?” Derek asked.
“Nothing we didn’t already—”
Derek wheeled. A man appeared twenty feet down the path. Ramon. Derek stepped in front of me.
Ramon raised his hand, palm out, showing he wasn’t armed. His broken arm hung at his side. As he walked toward us, I could see bruises on his jaw and blood soaking the side of his shirt. With every step, he winced.
“I’m not here to fight you, kid,” he said. “If you insist, I’ll give it my best, but I’d really rather call it a draw.”
Noticing Liam’s body, he stopped and shook his head.
“It was an accident,” I said.
“Yeah, well, I’m sure he had it coming.” Another head shake, but there was genuine grief in his eyes. After a moment, he tore his gaze from the body and looked up at Derek.
“So now what?” Ramon said.
“We call it a draw, like you said. But if you ever come after either of us again…”
Ramon gave a tight laugh. “Do I look like I’m in any shape to hunt you? Nah, this was Liam’s scheme. Crazy son of a—”
“Someone hired you two. Who was it?”
“Ask him.” He hooked his thumb at Liam. “He’s the man with the plan. Always was. I just go along for the ride.”
“So you have no idea who hired him?”
“Some supernatural. A healer guy.”
“Sorcerer?” I said. “Shaman?”
“No clue. I’m not into that stuff. Anyway, someone put Liam in touch with this guy who wanted a werewolf to track you down”—he nodded at Derek—“and hand you over to the Pack. Just so happened we were already in trouble with the Pack—on account of Liam, as usual.”
“And this was the perfect solution,” I said. “Give Derek to the Pack, blame him for the man-eating, and get paid for your trouble. If you couldn’t take him in alive, that was okay, too.”
“Not at first. The guy wanted you handed over to the Pack, seemed to think that would be okay. Or pretended to, anyway.”
“And if the Pack turned out to be killers, that wasn’t his fault,” Derek said.
“You got it. After we lost you the first time, he started getting antsy. Just wanted you gone one way or another. You want my advice?” He looked at Derek. “Take your girlfriend and start running. Whatever you’re trying to do here—live with other supernaturals, pretend you’re one of them—it won’t work. They’ll always be watching you, expecting you to lose control.” Ramon shook his head. “You know much about wolves, boy?”
“A bit.”
“There’s a reason they live as far from humans as they can. Centuries of experience. People don’t like other predators around. Makes them nervous. When they get nervous, they try to eliminate the threat. Now, I’m going to say good night and take my buddy there.”
“And give him a proper burial?” I said.
A sharp laugh. “We don’t get luxuries like that. I’m going to take the down payment on the job, then I’m going to take his body to the Pack, settle up with them. And, yes, it’s a helluva thing to do to a friend, but out here, it’s survival of the fittest.” He met Derek’s gaze. “For us, it’s always survival of the fittest.”
With Derek’s help, Ramon managed to get Liam’s body over his shoulder, teeth gritted against the pain of the extra weight. Then he hobbled off into the night.