Crossed Fates by Lexi C. Foss

Alaric

“What the…?!”I shouted as I vaulted off the porch and ran to the mutilated body lying on my front lawn.

Petite frame.

Tangled, long strands of hair.

Blood.

So. Much. Blood.

My wolf growled in fury, the utter savagery of the scene calling to all my instincts to protect.

But it was too late.

The girl was very dead.

I knelt beside her slain form to check for a pulse anyway, the habit coming naturally. Black-and-blue marks littered her pale skin, making me wince as I rolled her to her back.

With a broken nose, split lips, and blackened eyes, it would be difficult to determine her identity. Her lack of belongings and clothes only made it more difficult.

But she was definitely a wolf.

I could smell it on her skin. Bitten.

Not one of mine, though. Not from Silver Lake.

Fuck. Who the hell would do something like this?

Makayla dropped down on the girl’s other side and began examining her in a clinical manner. Perhaps I should have expected that reaction after all I’d learned about her, yet it still surprised me that she seemed so desensitized to the scene before her. I recognized it because it echoed my own reaction to the situation. We’d seen too much for this to do anything more than fuel our need to capture and kill the culprit.

A crowd began gathering nearby as I scrutinized the body and the area surrounding the victim, searching for anything that could be of potential use.

“She hasn’t been dead long,” Makayla murmured.

I nodded in agreement. “Maybe five or six hours. Still enough time for whoever did this to be long gone.”

My wolf snarled, urging me to let him free so he could hunt the murderer down. Not yet.

“Unless they are from around here,” she said, voicing a possibility I didn’t want to consider. Her lips curled down, her nose twitching. “Do you smell that? It’s…” She sniffed, her eyes narrowing.

I inhaled with her, searching for whatever she’d caught with her senses. Blood. Bitten wolf. I frowned. Two. There are two Bitten wolf scents. Sort of. “A shifter.” Maybe a mate? A friend?

“Except, it’s tainted.” She studied the victim, then shook her head. “Something’s familiar. Like I’ve smelled it before. However, it also kind of reminds me of Vex.”

“He’s dead.” But I caught the subtle hint of smoke in the air, too. “Another hybrid?”

“Perhaps.” She didn’t sound convinced. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s a scent from that bar.” She shook her head, then continued her perusal, checking the girl’s neck for a claiming mark, and froze. “Alaric,” she whispered, her blue irises flaring as she caught my gaze, then gestured down to the female’s throat.

I followed her line of sight to find what she wanted to show me without bringing anyone else’s attention to it.

“Fuck,” I seethed through clenched teeth when I spotted the bruising on her inner thighs. It pointed to the very likely possibility that she had been raped. Which seemed like a hell of a coincidence considering that a big part of our investigation included a sex trafficking ring.

I swallowed the bile in my throat, then continued examining the scene with my shifter-given senses.

A variety of scents marked the poor girl, some of them shifter and familiar. That made me frown. I sniffed again, noting the scents of my own wolves on the girl. Because she’s in our lands? I wondered, inhaling again and catching the rusty old stench that could only be related to one species.

Vampires.

Why the hell does she smell like a vampire?

Makayla scowled, likely arriving at the same conclusion. I could almost taste her confusion and anger, which… was strange. I shook off the bizarre sensation to refocus on—

Another scream rent the air, turning my attention toward a hysterical Savannah. Hardt immediately pulled her into his arms, his low voice hushing her as he consoled her.

My eyes narrowed as several other packmates gravitated toward him for strength, like he was some damn beacon of light in this morning of darkness. Even the damn sun seemed to illuminate him from above. What the fresh hell is this bullshit?

“It’s all right, Savannah,” he cooed in what should have been a soothing tone but came off as patronizing. “Tell them. They need to know.” His tone held a note of authority.

I almost snorted.

It sounded like a damn mouse trying to mimic a lion.

I cleared my throat, my instincts driving me to take charge and speak. “What is it, Savannah?” I infused just a slight alpha rumble into my voice, the sound meant to call for attention while also offering a soothing undertone of protection to it.

Hardt’s expression told me he didn’t appreciate me inserting myself into the conversation.

I let him see just how much I cared about his opinion with a quick look. Fuck. Off.

“Th-that’s Kristen Whiting. She was staying with me. When she didn’t come back to my house after her run”—she broke off as a fresh bout of tears cascaded down her cheeks—“I-I thought sh-she left to go home. She’s from the McKenzie Pack.” The last part came out on a whisper, her slender shoulders curling in defeat.

Well, at least that explains why I smell my pack on the girl, I thought, somewhat relieved but also devastated for Savannah.

“McKenzie?” Makayla repeated, her lips curving downward into a frown. Her blue eyes were pensive when they met mine. “Alpha Bortex,” she whispered low enough that only I heard her. “This blows my theory to hell.”

I nodded in agreement. If people from Bortex’s pack were also being targeted, it was highly unlikely that someone among them was seeking revenge by poisoning the alphas and taking the girls. Which left us back at square fucking one. “Shit.”

The smell of vampire hit my nose again, and I moved over to finish inspecting Kristen’s neck. It took a little searching because of all of the bruising and swelling, but eventually I found what I was looking for—two small punctures just to the left of a major artery. That explained why her skin appeared ashen. However, the bite marks were smaller than normal.

My fingers flexed, my instinct to grab a stake hitting me square in the gut.

A vampire was on my land. Around my pack. Unacceptable.

My wolf snarled and snapped, ready to tear them limb from limb.

I need to hunt these leeches down and put them in the ground.

Makayla leaned close, her floral scent replacing the vampire stink, and before I could stop myself, I inhaled deeply. Her natural perfume softened my anger and pain. Or perhaps it was just her nearness that caused me to relax.

“Where’s the nearest vampire coven?” Makayla asked.

“About fifty miles away,” I replied, my mind already forming a strategy for a search patrol. We’ll head west, then—

“No one in our pack would do something like this,” someone said loudly, drawing me from my thoughts.

“I agree. It has to be a setup,” Hardt stated confidently as he placed a consoling hand on the shoulder of the woman who’d spoken. A few more people made comments, but they were all directed toward Hardt. They were looking to him for leadership and comfort and solace.

Emotional support—something that didn’t come naturally to me. Especially after leaving my home and family. Working for E.V.I.E. meant I couldn’t afford the distraction of feelings. That was how a slayer got himself killed.

Being methodical, following the investigation, and taking down the bad guys—that was what I knew.

Vengeance and justice, too.

Finding the asshole who did this and protecting my pack was how I could help them. The fact that the situation appeared to be orchestrated by vampires, well… Now we’re in my element. I can do what I do best.

Still, it irritated the shit out of me to see the way the pack gravitated toward Hardt as if he were the man in charge around here. If they didn’t want to see me as their alpha, they should at least have been looking to Alpha Hawk for leadership.

“Ric.”

Think of the man and he appears, I thought on a sigh as the crowd parted for his entry.

And here we go. He would chastise me over my handling of the situation and then take over. Just like when I was a kid.

In five, four, three, two…

He stopped in front of me, his gaze on the gruesome scene.

I cleared my throat and gave him a quick summary of my findings. He might not approve of my choices, but I could at least play the role of good slayer.

“Someone left me a sick present,” I muttered. “Looks like a vampire’s doing. Has the pack had any issues with leeches lately?” I had to ask, but in my gut, I knew it wasn’t related to the pack at all. This body had been strategically placed on my lawn. This had to be related to the silver-poisoning case. Maybe someone didn’t approve of me taking out the hybrid and his bloodsucking buddy.

Or maybe it was related to one of the many cases in my past.

I’d certainly pissed off a lot of vampires in my time.

My father thought for a moment. “Nothing beyond the normal turf wars. You know how the vamps are about the boundary lines.”

“Yeah.” But the nearest one was a little over fifty miles out, which meant they’d come pretty far into our territory before dropping off the bloody gift.

“Alaric?” Makayla had crouched down by Kristen’s foot and was staring intently at the sole.

Dread descended like a thick blanket, déjà vu slamming into me.

“Alaric,”one of the E.V.I.E. technicians had said just a week ago from a similar position on a different victim.

On Valaria Crimson.

I fought the urge to vomit as I stepped around Kristen’s body to join Makayla.

One glance was all I needed to confirm the similarity.

AVC

My initials. Burned into the flesh of the victim.

Fuck.

The same three letters had been carved into Valaria’s heel, likely by a knife. But this one resembled a brand.

Sick bastards,I thought, my nostrils flaring as I stole a deep, calming breath.

The vamps are taunting me.

Bloody invitations.

Sick pricks.

“What—” Makayla started.

But I shook my head and gave her a pointed look. “Later,” I said under my breath, the word for her ears only. We weren’t going to discuss this on my lawn, with a dead body, in front of my packmates.

She closed her mouth and bobbed her head once.

I jumped to my feet, my hands clenching at my sides as my gaze swept over the group that had accumulated. Alpha or not, I owed it to Tyler to fix this. Hell, I owed it to my dad, too. I owed it to the whole damn pack.

Someone had poisoned my brother.

Then a vamp felt confident enough to drop a body in my yard.

I couldn’t stand for that. Not now. Not ever.

“I’m going to find out who did this,” I said, my voice low and underlined with promise. “And I’m going to make them fucking pay.”

“And how are you going to do that?” Hardt demanded. “You probably brought this to us with all your E.V.I.E. bullshit.”

“All my E.V.I.E. bullshit is how I’m going to fix this,” I retorted, not missing a beat. “All my E.V.I.E. bullshit is how I’m going to find out who killed my brother—the alpha of Silver Lake—and deliver justice.”

He snorted, his disbelief palpable.

A few others conveyed expressions of dubiousness, but more of them appeared relieved.

The pack didn’t doubt my ability to fix this problem. However, some of them exuded skepticism over what came next.

I hadn’t accepted the alpha mantle. I hadn’t promised protection. I hadn’t guaranteed them a damn thing other than vengeance.

How could I protect Silver Lake if I rejected the role as alpha and returned to my previous life? Was that my choice? I wasn’t sure. But if I did go that route, it would sever my tie to the pack completely. I would truly be a lone wolf.

A castrated lone wolf. My inner animal seemed to push that thought at me, but I ignored him. That was the least of my worries, but it didn’t make it any less true.

Focus,I thought. Focus on the here and now and take charge. For Tyler.

I spotted two Silver Lake enforcers in the crowd and called them forward. “Paul. Timothy. Do a perimeter run and see if you can pick up a trail for the vamp smell,” I ordered.

They glanced in Hardt’s direction, and I growled. Their heads snapped back to me, and my expression had them muttering, “Will do” and “Got it.” Then they took off for the woods, stripping along the way.

I gritted my teeth at the very idea of what I had to do next. With all the clenching and grinding these days, I’m going to end up toothless as well as ball-less.

It took me a second to force the words from my mouth. “Hardt, I need you to take Kristen’s body to the coroner and make arrangements with her family to come and pick her up.” I hated asking him for anything, but as the pack beta, it would be expected that he be issued an important task.

He looked like he wanted to argue, and my wolf snarled, ready for a fight. However, to both our disappointments, he nodded and gave Savannah one last hug before approaching the body. Makayla ran inside and returned with a blanket for him to wrap Kristen in. I had no idea where she’d found it. Probably in one of the linen closets. Regardless, it was a thoughtful gesture.

“Thanks,” I said to her.

She responded with a small smile.

Hardt didn’t acknowledge her, his gaze on Kristen.

Then he picked up his head and met my gaze directly. “So you’re just going to run off and play hero and leave your lost, grieving pack members without someone to give them comfort and reassurance?”

“I don’t remember saying that at all,” I replied.

His eyes narrowed. “You’re focused on solving the crime and avenging your brother, not giving the pack what they really need.”

I arched a brow. “Yeah? And what’s that?”

“Heart,” he said through his teeth, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he meant his name or the organ.

“Sometimes it’s not about having heart,” my father interjected before I had a chance to reply. “Sometimes, an alpha needs to be logical and take charge so he can handle the threat while his people grieve in peace.”

Hardt said nothing.

My father stepped forward to clap him on the shoulder, his expression stern yet somehow full of understanding as well. “The pack needs more than emotional succor right now, Beta Hardt. They need protection. It’s a decision only an alpha truly understands, so let’s leave the leading to my son, yeah?”