My mouth snapped shut.
“And…” Austin prompted.
“And…he admitted what he’d done—not that he could deny it. They could smell him in my scent. I’ll carry a trace of him with me forever, just like you carry a trace of whoever infected you. Just like we all do. Those of us who survive long enough to shift, anyway.”
“Who killed him?” Austin asked.
“Titus pronounced his sentence, and it was all very official. But I executed him. They decided that was my right, as the victim.” I’d ripped his throat out, and I hadn’t missed a single moment of sleep over it.
Until last Friday, when I’d learned about Yvette.
“We want the same right,” Austin said. “Bishop and I. We want to be there. We want to watch the light drain from this bastard’s eyes, when we find him.”
“I have no problem with that,” I assured him. “But I’m sure you understand that there are other surviving relatives who could make the same claim.”
Austin nodded. “Just as I’m sure Titus will make the right call.”
I planted my hands on the edge of the desk and rolled my chair back, assuming this was over. Signaling an end to a debriefing that had felt more like a confession. But Austin didn’t stand.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” His gaze remained trained on mine with a relentless steadiness I’d come to associate with both Austin-the-police-detective and with Austin-the-grieving-brother. “I assume we’re looking for either an associate of this Silas or for a copycat, and you’ve known that all along, but you didn’t tell us. Why not?”
“Because I didn’t know that all along. You came in here ready to kill Nolan Blake, and while I knew that my own case was similar to Yvette’s, I also knew there were differences. She wasn’t kidnapped. I didn’t make any large cash withdrawals.”
“But your brotherwasa shifter. So anyone who knew about that dormant gene could assume you had it.”
I blinked, considering my next words carefully. “Yes.” But I wasn’t ready to talk about Ben, and maybe he could feel that. “However, we didn’t know that was a victim commonality at first, either. There were too many differences between my case and Yvette’s for me to rationally assume they were related. Until we connected the other victims.”
“But even then, you didn’t tell us.”
I exhaled slowly. “Things have happened quickly since then. I was about to tell you.”
Austin blinked at me.
“It’s personal, okay?” I relented. “My personal trauma. I didn’t tell you before because I don’t like to talk about it, and because it wouldn’t have been helpful before we knew most of what we know now. And because I didn’t want to blur the line on my role in this investigation. Give you a reason to doubt my judgement.”
Austin stared at me for a second, and I could see him thinking. Weighing the obvious betrayal he felt, that I’d kept information from him, with what appeared to be sympathy for the position I was in. For the merging of my trauma with his. With this investigation.
“I understand,” he said at last. “Thank you for telling me.”
I stood, and this time he stood with me. “I have to go downstairs. Why don’t you take Bishop back to your apartment and fill him in on all of this, and we’ll meet again tonight to start looking for connections between the victims—or their relatives—and Silas. Okay?”
Austin nodded. But he hesitated with one hand on the doorknob. “I’m sorry, Charley. For what happened to you. For the fact that we’re dredging it all up again. I understand that that isn’t fair to you.”
“This isn’t fair to anyone,” I assured him. “But we’re going to catch this asshole, whoever he is. And Silas Morelock is going to get a new roommate in hell.”
TWELVE
“Nolan Blake,” I said as I opened the door at the bottom of the steps, jingling my key ring. “You are hereby free to go.”
“Great.” He stood, already shoving his stuff into the duffle bag Tucker had brought from his apartment several days before. “And exactly how soon after I step out of this cage will Bishop Mattheson murder me?”
“That’s not going to happen. Bishop understands that your sister was likely one of the victims. He’s as interested as we all are in catching theactualmurderer. Please don’t leave town, though, until you hear from me or one of my enforcers that we have completed the investigation. Should you feel like you are in danger, let me know. Titus has extended an invitation for you to stay in Jackson for a while, if you like.”
“No, thanks. I’m going home to order a pizza. I don’t care if I never see another burger again.”
“Fair enough. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
“Then I’ll call my boss and let him know I’m over the ‘flu,’” he added, using air quotes as I unlocked his cell.
