“Boyd found more tracks,” Rainier said.
I snorted a derisive laugh. “Well, damn, Rain, we find more tracks every fucking day. What’s the big deal?”
“They weren’t on the edge of Hidden Grove,” he said. “He caught a scent and followed it. By the time he got to the end of the trail, it was on the outer edges of Idlewild.”
“What?Are you serious?”
Rainier nodded, kicking at a stone. “He confirmed the tracks were there, and they had the Red Maw scent. Says it looked like at least three wolves had stalked around the edge of town before leaving. He lost their trail on the way back, though. They did lots of creek crossings like they usually do.”
Idlewild? What the hell were they doing there? It was one thing to attack or threaten our little village. We were small and isolated, cut off from civilization. We didn’t even have cell service. But Idlewild? That was an honest-to-God town.
“Do you think Desdemona has her eyes on Idlewild as well?” I asked.
“She’d have to be crazy,” Rainier said.
“I think we’ve established that she is. Crazy or power hungry—both are bad.”
“Yeah, but that pack is way bigger than ours,” Rainier said, shaking his head, and sending furtive glances toward the surrounding forest. “Red Maw is much bigger than we thought, but they still won’t be a match for Idlewild.”
“That’s what I’d think too,” I said, but my voice was hollow. If the Red Maw had their sights set on attacking or taking over Idlewild, then June might be in danger. Even thinking of her sent a jagged bolt of pain through my heart. But pain or not, I still loved her, still cared about her, and as hurt as I was, I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.
“What do you want to do?” Rainier asked.
“What Iwantto do is gather up a posse and go kick Desdemona’s pack in the teeth,” I said, clenching my jaw as I spoke.
“You and I both know we don’t have the numbers for that,” Rainier said. “There’s no way.”
“Yeah, I know,” I muttered. “I said what I’d want to do, not what I was going to do.”
If we attacked Red Maw, we’d need help, but where would we get that? I’d spent damn near a hundred years making sure no one knew about Hidden Grove, which meant we had no allies. Who the hell would help us in a fight?
Rather than try to work through those thoughts, I changed the subject. “Has anyone said anything about Stephen dying?”
Rainier heaved a sigh. “Yeah. I think everyone knows something is up now. There were already questions about why we were doing so many patrols. Now they’re all terrified. Pretty sure everybody understands it’s the Red Maw at this point.”
I nodded along, unsurprised. I’d known it would be difficult to keep this a secret, especially with how bold Desdemona’s men were getting.
“All right, I think it’s time I put together a council. A group of senior pack members to discuss our issues.”
“A council of elders? Is that what you mean?” Rainier frowned. “We’ve never had that here.”
“I know, but it’s time. The pack needs a better understanding of what’s going on, plus it will help take some of the burden off me and you.”
“Can’t say I would hate that,” Rainier said with a wry laugh.
“I’ll give you some names,” I said. “I’m sure they’ll say yes. We’ll meet tonight.” Glancing over, I watched as the last few shovels full of dirt were cast onto the grave. Stephen’s backpack sat beside the makeshift headstone. I pointed at it. “Has anyone gone through that yet?”
“Nope. Want to do the honors?”
Sighing, I walked over.
The pack had been found several yards from where we’d discovered his body, obviously tossed aside in an attempt to lighten his load and evade his pursuer. It hadn’t helped—no human could hope to outrun a shifter in their wolf form.
Unbuckling the top, I reached in and began to take out the items. A few pairs of socks and underwear, a couple shirts. Rain pants and jacket. Dried fruit and jerky, a pair of sunglasses, and a fairly hefty bag of marijuana. In the second compartment I found a few of his trade items. Magazines and coloring books wrapped in plastic to keep moisture away, a small package of plastic building block toys, three small cartons of crayons, a pack of condoms, and a bag filled with assorted candy bars, gum, and lollipops. Deep at the bottom, my fingers brushed a hardcover book.
“Did our boy Stephen keep a diary?” Rainier said, frowning at the ancient-looking book in my hands. “Didn’t seem the type.”
I shook my head and turned it over in my hands. “No, this is old. Antique.” I pointed at the embossed gold stamp on the bottom. “I know this brand. It was popular when I was a kid. They made notebooks, journals, desk blotters, all that stuff.”
