Something deep inside my mind clicks into place.
“Holy fire?” I ask innocently.
“Yes,” Melanie says brightly. “The great power—”
“That we are all afraid of!” Jackson finishes in an urgent tone, and I hear the thump under the table again.
“Tell me more,” I say, keeping my wide-eyed expression. “This is fascinating.”
“If you’re from Eccles, then surely you know?” Jackson says, turning to me. His pale blue eyes are as cold and hard as chips of ice.
He’s testing me. What do you know, you old bastard?
“I’m not actually from Eccles,” I say. “I came here about a year ago with some friends. Rex is originally from Rose Hollow. He came back to take his place there as alpha. Our friend Brad took over at Eccles when their old alpha died. We haven’t been here that long.”
“How did the old alpha die?” Jackson asks, staring me down.
“I’m not sure,” I answer, holding his gaze.
He knows.
“Here we are,” Sara says, putting a platter down on the table. “Quiche and salad. Just one moment, and I’ll grab the roast and vegetables.”
“Did you make some of those cakes I like?” Melanie snaps, and Sara nods.
“Of course, Melanie. I wouldn’t forget your favorites when you’re a guest in my house.”
For a few moments, nobody speaks as we all get comfortable and load our plates. I can see Melanie is very noticeably not talking, and Jackson glares at her occasionally as if to make sure she stays silent. He gives me sidelong glances, and I know he’s trying to work me out.
“I should tell you, my friends will be back here soon with some supplies for the town,” I say. “We will need to make a warm welcome for them.”
“Oh?” Jackson asks. “The other alphas?”
“Yes, and some trusted people from both packs. They can get the gardens producing well, donate some clothes, and help fix the buildings.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Jackson says, his tone implying the opposite. “We are truly blessed to have your help.”
“Glad to hear it,” I answer. “I know the other packs are interested in knowing how you stayed hidden up here for so long. Is it magic?”
“No,” Jackson scoffs, a bit too quickly. “We don’t know anything about magic.”
I let the silence fall, and everyone turns their focus to the food. Once the atmosphere has relaxed, I drop the bomb.
“It must have been so difficult for you to lose your father,” I say in a gentle tone. “And to know that Talon was responsible.”
Jackson turns to look at me, and his eyes are swimming with confusion. “Yes,” he says. “It was very difficult.”
“Do you know how he died? Were you able to hold a funeral?”
“No,” Jackson says. “He and a few trusted men simply disappeared. Talon acted as if they were dead, though.”
“Tragic,” I mutter, looking back at my food.
The tension in the air has palpably heightened, and I realize I may have shown my hand, but I don’t care.
I want to put the old man on edge. I’ve got a heavy suspicion that his father isn’t dead. This whole situation reeks of a double-double cross.
As I think over the clues and things slip into place, I realize that for my suspicions to be true, Talon had to be a genuinely nice, trusting guy, and it makes me mourn him even more.
