Wyatt held up the bag. “What the immortal hell is this? Organic kale chips?”
“Is something wrong with your machine?”
“I’m out of chips, and I don’t get my next order until Tuesday.”
Claude plopped down to my right and hooked his long arms over the back of the black sofa. “Take it or leave it. At least she’s buying snacks.”
Wyatt flung the chips into his wastebasket. “Whoever showed her the organic section of the website is going on my hit list.”
I sniffed and turned my head toward Claude. “What’s that smell?”
He smiled lazily, a smile that had certainly seduced many a woman. “Organic mint bodywash. You like?”
“You smell like a Christmas tree. All you need is a star on your head.”
Blue chuckled. “He’s got the shiny gold shorts to match.”
“You slay me.” He leaned forward and gestured to the paper pile. “Any progress?”
I reached back and kneaded my shoulders. “The night is young.”
His hands rested on my shoulders. “May I?”
Blue smiled knowingly. “He’s got magic fingers. Say yes.”
I glared up at him. “Okay, but no funny business.”
Claude wasn’t just an excellent hairstylist—his hands were also made for working out muscle knots. Once he started, all the tension melted away. I lowered my head, closed my eyes, and didn’t protest when his thumbs made circles around my shoulder blades.
“Careful, Raven. I’ve heard that’s how he gets women in bed,” Blue quipped.
The purr rumbling in Claude’s throat quickly died. “Pleasing a woman is in my blood, but I have too much respect for the females in this house to seduce anyone.”
This conversation was heading south, so I leaned away. “Okay, that’s enough fingerplay.” I glared at Wyatt. “Can’t you put out an all-points bulletin? If he doesn’t poof his way in here, I’m shutting this case for good. It’s probably not a good idea to accept help from someone we killed. It feels like a trap.”
Wyatt used his heels to walk his chair toward us. “Patience, buttercup. They can sense electricity, so the office is easy to find. Trust me on that one.” He flung his beanie onto the sofa and ran his fingers through his wavy hair. Wyatt looked more like himself again. Not so tired and sickly—his cheeks had color, and his eyes weren’t bloodshot. He glanced over his shoulder. “Speak of the devil.”
I straightened up, trying in vain to sense an energy change in the room. We followed Wyatt’s gaze as he looked up to his right.
Wyatt signaled me. “Well, tell him what’s up.”
“Maybe you should do it. I don’t like talking to thin air.”
“It’s not like he can’t hear you. Anyhow, this isyourcase.” Wyatt crossed his leg over his knee and fiddled with his loose sock.
Instead of staring up, I looked at the files on the floor. “Wyatt says you want us to relay a message in exchange for information. We agree to those terms, but we need to have the information up front. You can trust we’ll uphold our end of the bargain.”
Wyatt glared at the empty space beside him. “Because I want you gone, and if we don’t make good, I have to stare at your ugly face every night.” He shook his head. “I’ve never had any complaints from the numerous ladies that—”
Blue snapped her fingers. “Hey!Focus.”
Wyatt’s stubborn mouth stopped moving. For a second at least. “Specterpath,” he mumbled. “It’s a crazy lost soul that doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about, that’s what it is.”
Claude reached out and shook Wyatt’s chair. “Silence.”
“We’ve got all these deaths that we think might be connected,” I said, gesturing to the papers. “Lots of young people. It happened all of a sudden, similar symptoms reported in some. That’s why we’re questioning all these Shifters; we’re trying to figure out if there’s something more devious going on. It could be natural causes and accidents, but nobody lived to tell the tale. If there’s something you know about one of these people who might have been in your pack or den or whatever, that’s what we need.”
Wyatt straightened his legs and crossed them at the ankle. “He says thathelived to tell the tale.” Wyatt glanced up. “Technically, you didn’t live.”
