“She barely survived losing Maisie,” Peyton gently said. “It took me and Duncan and Badger and a fuckton of energy to keep her wanting to live, even when she was pregnant.”
“I concur,” Duncan said. “If Tamsin were to lose a second mate this soon… I don’t honestly know if we could save her. Before, we could force her to live because she was pregnant. Knowing Maisie has an incredible extended family now who can love and care for her and keep her safe… Well, I don’t know if what we did before would be enough.”
A solemn silence settled over them for a few seconds.
“I hate that I can’t hate her,” Dewi grumbled. “Aisling, I mean.”
Ken knew this time from her tone that she was trying to lighten the mood, and he chuckled. “Remember you promised not to punch me, sweetheart.”
That finally earned him a laugh from Dewi. “No, just Peyton. What do you think you guys can find out? Badger’s still on the phone with someone and won’t tell me shit. Can one of you please fill me in?”
Duncan took over. “I don’t remember exactly when, but during that time period—World War II—close to a hundred or more refugees arrived from Britain and Europe and elsewhere. They came to America to escape the war. Most of them never moved back and fully integrated into the Targhee Pack or other packs. Because of the circumstances, we didn’t ask many questions or do a lot of research. We were more concerned about moving people and their families to safety and helping them get settled. And sometimes, because of the war, research wasn’t possible. Hard to access records in a town that either no longer existed, was under enemy occupation, or where the local infrastructure was bombed back to the Stone Age.
“But I remember a couple who arrived not long after the war ended. At the time, I didn’t have the focus to dig deeper, but they said they lost everything in the Blitz. I remember asking if they had any packmates they wanted us to try to locate, and they said no, they were alone. That everyone was dead. By then, we were also offering to connect people to the Staffordshire Pack, but they had no interest in returning to England. They didn’t want us sharing their information with anyone, either.
“I mean, there was a lot of trauma because of the war, so we didn’t press people. And they slipped off my radar not long after they arrived because I had no further contact with them. As far as I know, they never attended a Muster or asked for help. We didn’t have the resources back then to monitor people who didn’t want to stay in contact with us. Plus, back then, there were more packs around. Far smaller than the Targhee Pack, yes, but they easily could have joined one of those. Or they went off and blended in with human populations. That also wasn’t unusual. Especially if they had no children to worry about.”
“And you think they might be Donnel and the real Hyacinth?” Dewi asked.
“Maybe,” Duncan said. “I remember their first names were something like Donald and Helen. Meaning it’d be a hell of a coincidence if it’s not them.”
Ken let out a low whistle. “In terms of secret identities I guess the bar’s in hell.”
“Wait a minute,” Dewi said. “Tamsin said they wanted to mate her to a first cousin on her mother’s side. How’d they pull off that switcheroo if the woman’s not the real Hyacinth?”
“The man was likely this Hyacinth’s—Frannie’s—nephew,” Trevor said. “Or the man might never have met the real Hyacinth and had no way of knowing it wasn’t her. Shifters use different names throughout the years. Plus, Faegan is such a well-known control freak that?—”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Dewi said. “Can we ask him? The cousin, I mean.”
“We could, except he’s dead,” Trevor said. “He was one of those killed in the days after the safe house was attacked.”
“Well, that’s unfortunately inconvenient in this situation,” Dewi snarked. “Normally, I’d celebrate that kind of news. Too bad necromancy’s not a real thing. I’d happily dig him up, question him, and then kill him a second time.”
“That sounds like overkill,” Hamish said.
“Hey, every girl’s gotta have a hobby,” Dewi snarked. “Can we hunt down this Frannie’s family and find out what they know?”
“I already have people working on it,” Trevor said. “Before we even left the safe house. If any of them are alive, we’ll locate them.”
Hamish looked grim. “If they’re still alive. I wouldn’t put it past Faegan to have set it up and then killed them to keep his secret. Not like she would remember them to mourn them, right?”
“Fuuuuck,” Dewi said. “The sad part is, I think you might be absolutely right.”
Chapter Sixty
Miranda Segura
Miranda sat in her office chair and stared out the window at the city outside. The view in here wasn’t as good as the view from her father’s office, which remained exactly as he left it. He said it was because when he did need to come in, he wanted it, and as the man who started and owned the company, it was rightfully his.
While she smiled and agreed and ate shit the way a dutiful daughter should, inside she seethed.
If anyone else gets that office, I’ll slit their throats.
A knock on her doorway caught her attention, and she swiveled around to find her executive assistant standing there.
“Yes?” Miranda asked him.
“Ma’am, your 10:00 appointment is here.”
