“What happened?” Hudson asked. I recounted the vision, the memory, the feelings. Everything.
“So you got a read off the animal she killed?” Dave asked as he folded his arms. “That’s new.”
I scowled at him as Hudson helped me to my feet. The world tilted for a moment before righting itself.
“Why kill them in the first place?” Hudson asked. “Seems a little much for one woman.”
Except she wasn’t a woman. She’d been dead a long time. She was undead. Unnatural. She was an entity guided by a powerful presence, one strong enough to rip her soul from Heaven and shove it back onto the Earth.
“I think,” I started, before drawing in a steadying breath. “I think we are dealing with zombies.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
If I show you what’s in my heart, will you crush my dreams or nurture them?
Worried shifters eyed me with distrust as I entered the pack house. My intervention in their children’s fate had run out of currency quickly. You could spend your life doing good deeds, and all anyone would remember was the one bad thing.
It was part of how we were wired; the negative feelings infiltrated our core memories so much easier than joy and happiness. But that knowledge didn’t mean I wasn’t feeling hurt and annoyed at Hudson’s people. I wasn’t responsible for this. If I was, I would hold up my hands and admit it, but they couldn’t lay this travesty at my feet.
“That was no animal attack,” Gordon snarled. “I couldn’t smell anything but death.”
There was no fooling a shifter’s nose.
Hudson folded his arms and leaned against the side of the sofa I sat on. “You’re right. But you need to stop looking at my mate like she is responsible.”
Gordon pointed at me, and Indigo perked up. Great. My soul-sucking alter ego was eyeballing an alpha as a snack. That was all we needed. “Wherever she goes, death follows. First the spiritual influx in town, and now this? You can’t tell me it’s a coincidence.”
Benedict leaned forward. “What is your explanation, Cora?”
Norbert shook his head. “She doesn’t need to explain anything. She wasn’t here and isn’t responsible. So use your anger and fear to fuel the hunt. Something has come on our lands and slaughtered our cattle. That is the ‘something’ that needs your focus, not the woman our leader has chosen to love and rule with.”
I didn’t want to rule anyone. I was happy in my small world of guest house tasks and small-town medical issues. The fact I’d fallen for one of the faction leaders meant I was dragged into the forefront of the political landscape. I knew it and accepted it, but it didn’t make me hate it any less. I couldn’t keep hiding behind Hudson, though. For this to work, I had to step up to the role I never wanted.
“There are forces at work beyond anything we have seen or faced before,” I started. Hudson’s hand squeezed my shoulder in silent strength. I met each of the alpha’s eyes before continuing. “My grandmother wants to out our existence to the humans and position herself as our de facto ruler.”
There was a round of curses and grumblings. I waited for them to quiet down, twisting my fingers in my lap.Here goes.“She tried to command the factions with a spelled pact, which failed because no one signed it. She also tried to siphon power from demons, which also backfired on her.”
“And now?” Keira asked.
I met her gaze. “Now she is in cahoots with a god.”
Silence blanketed the room.
“God? LiketheGod?” Benedict said with a laugh.
“No, not the god we pray to. A god of old. Donn.”
Norbert swore. Well, that was new. The doc was unflappable. But he clearly had knowledge.
“Who is Donn?” Gordon asked.
“The Celtic god of death.”
Nobody moved, and they collectively held their breath while it penetrated that we were dealing with a deity. We couldn’t ignore the enormity of it. Whatever was coming, we were severely unprepared.
“So what do we do?” Jessy asked, breaking the shock.
My eyes closed for a second. They weren’t attacking me for being the granddaughter of our greatest enemy. They didn’t go for my throat because my blood relation caused the chaos threatening their way of life. No. Instead, they asked whatwecould do.
