I’d never before had a vision of the future. Unless…unless I was seeing the past. Was Mere…
I couldn’t even think it.
My hands shook as we landed. I reached for my phone, messaging Evie.
Is Mere okay?
You mother hen. Why don’t you come back and protect her yourself?
Evie.
She’s fine. Happy hunting.
I slid my phone back into my pocket and stared unseeingly out the window as we taxied. The vision wasn’t the past. It was the future.
That meant I could change it. I wouldn’t lose Mere too.
Neither of us was in the right place to be together right now, but I’d protect her with everything I had.
No one would take her from me.
9
MEREDITH
Auniform was puking into a trash can outside the apartment building when we arrived. I winced as he retched noisily, then forced myself to stride up the front steps. I was a bar owner, not a cop. And if I didn’t get it over and done with, I’d lose my nerve.
“You don’t have to go in there if you don’t want to,” Evie murmured. “We can tell you anything relevant.”
“No. I’ll be okay.” My power had traced the guy’s phone to this spot, so despite the fact that it didn’t make sense, I felt like I had a duty to see this through.
Even though I’d likely regret it.
Kyla nodded reassuringly at me and leaned against the car, lifting her phone and typing out a message. For a second, I wished I were a werewolf who was currently low on self-control. She knew her limits, and Kyla wouldn’t be going near the death and blood.
Nelson showed his badge, and the cop standing in front of the door let us into the apartment. We took the stairs, following the noise up to the second floor. The apartment was crawling with cops, and they parted to let Nelson pass.
The man—body, I corrected myself—lay in the living room. The apartment was lacking in furniture, with a sagging sofa and TV propped up on a stand that had several books piled under one broken leg. He hadn’t lived well, and he hadn’t died well either.
He was lying facedown, his blood in a pool around him. The room was suddenly very hot. I took a deep, shaky breath.
Nelson held out a box of gloves, and we each slipped a pair on. I focused on the evidence, refusing to think of the body as a person until I was far enough away from the crime scene that I could throw up alone.
The guy’s clothes had been shredded, as if by claws. The skin beneath the clothes had been shredded too.
“Werewolf?” Nelson asked.
Evie shook her head.
“Claws are the wrong shape,” I explained. “But it’s definitely a paranormal.”
And why would a paranormal—and one with claws—be this interested in killing a human. A human who was involved in kidnapping a fae woman?
“Can we…” I swallowed. “Can we turn the body over?”
Nelson glanced at another cop, who nodded. “We’ve got what we need so far,” he said, and Nelson grabbed a shoulder. Evie reached for a hip, and I slid my hand beneath the other shoulder as we rolled the body.
“Fuck.” One of the cops behind us bolted from the living room, and I heard retching. The sound of someone else vomiting made it even more difficult for me not to puke on the body.
