“How well do you know Aldo Xenakis?”
“Not well at all,” she said, used to her father’s non sequiturs. Amazing . . . her headache was gone. She almost laughed. Dear old Dad had been the cause all along. “Why do you ask?”
“His son will be attending the reception Thursday night. I want you to meet him.”
“He has a son? Since when? I thought Xenakis lived alone.”
“The younger Xenakis has stayed in the background. From what I’ve learned, he didn’t even know Aldo was his father until a couple of years ago. When the boy’s mother died, he traced Aldo through her private papers.”
“Interesting. Why do you think the son’s important?”
“He’s been staying at his father’s home up here for the past month. You know where the house is. It’s a few miles from our place, though our properties share the southern boundary. Tinker thought he smelled an unfamiliar wolf near the edge of our holdings night before last. He traced the scent to a ridge on the Xenakis property. The wolf scent disappeared, but he picked up the trail of a man and followed it to the house. The only one there was a young man who appeared to be Xenakis’s son.”
“He’s Chanku?” Now that would be interesting, considering how xenophobic the father was.
“We don’t know. The elder Xenakis has powerful magic. If the son inherited his father’s gift, he could be shifting by magical means, not natural. I want you to get close enough, see if you sense anything.”
“Do you think he’s our murderer?”
“I don’t know, Lily. But the women have been killed near Kalispell and in the San Francisco Bay Area. Xenakis has homes in both places, and his son spends time at both locations. I’ve got Alex looking into his schedule now, checking flight records, that sort of thing. Be very careful.”
“One question. What’s his name? How will I know him?”
“Sebastian. I don’t know what surname he used before, but he’s taken his father’s name. Look for Sebastian Xenakis. Tinker says he’s tall with dark hair. And really odd eyes. Teal blue, according to Tink. Not amber like most of us. And, Lily?”
“Yes?”
“I love you, sweetheart, but I have a bad feeling about this. Be very careful. We don’t know a thing about this guy, but he’s got my sense of premonition in high gear. No specific danger, just a strong feeling he’ll have some kind of effect on our family.”
Lily stared at the handset long after her father had ended the call. The pack might tease Anton Cheval about his premonitions, but invariably he’d been proven correct. She flipped on her computer and typed in Sebastian Xenakis’s name.
It never hurt to be fully informed about the enemy.
“Lily. So glad you agreed to meet even after my office bungled this so badly.”
“Well, hopefully the media haven’t bugged the dining room.” Lily smiled at the mayor and shook her hand. “It’s good to see you, Jill.” Then she nodded toward the group of reporters gathered just outside the restaurant. “I was hoping they were here for you, not me. It’s been awhile since I’ve run a gauntlet like that.”
Mayor Jill Bradley shook her head as she reached for the menu. “It’s the killings, Lily. We’re doing everything we can to keep a lid on things, but . . .”
“I know.” Sighing, Lily reached for her own menu. “I heard from Alex Aragat, our pack’s law enforcement liaison in Montana. People are scared, and I can’t blame them. My father’s got every available resource working on this from our angle.”
Jill shook her head. “My gut feeling is that it’s not a Chanku killing these girls. I think someone’s trying to raise public anger against shifters.”
Lily had to agree. “Dad feels the same way, but until this guy is stopped . . .”
“Or they. DNA is inconclusive, but I’ve been told it points to more than one perp. Wolves, definitely, but possibly more than one human committing the rapes.”
Crap.
“They’ve narrowed it down to wolves?”
“Yes. We’re keeping a lid on that info.” Jill spread her hands in a helpless gesture. “Your people are catching enough flak as it is.”
“No kidding. Is it a single male? If a woman had consensual sex before the attack, it could explain more than one.”
Jill nodded. “There’s one consistent set, a few variables. That’s the conclusion. For now.”
The waitress reached their table before Lily could respond. Jill set her menu down to place her order; Lily closed hers and studied the mayor. Jill Bradley had held her post for almost five years now, and her popularity had yet to wane. She’d become a good friend and a powerful ally, a woman Lily would have liked and admired even if she hadn’t been the mayor.
It never hurt to have friends in high places. Smart friends. The fact that she had already considered what Lily figured was happening was a good sign. She glanced up and realized the waitress was waiting patiently for her order.
“Hamburger. Rare.” Lily smiled at the waitress, waiting for the admonition that rare beef wasn’t safe. Instead, she got a saucy wink. “You got it. Be back in a minute with your wine.”
“Did we order wine?”
Jill laughed. “It’s on me. I figured you could use a glass about now. I know I sure can. Let’s discuss the reception and your father’s generous donation. The other topic is too frustrating when we don’t have any answers.”
“I agree. I think we’re being set up, but I’m not sure it’s more than one person.”
Jill’s dark brows drew down. “You’ll let me know if you learn anything to substantiate that, won’t you?”
“Of course. I mentioned Alex Aragat, our pack liaison with law enforcement in Kalispell. He’s working on a couple of things, but at this point it’s all supposition.”
The waitress reached the table and opened a bottle of wine. She poured a taste for the mayor, who sipped and quickly agreed.
“I’ll have your meals in a few minutes. Enjoy.” Smiling, the young woman moved on to another table.
Lily tipped her glass in a toast to her friend. “Here’s to the new wing at the museum. I saw it this weekend. It’s turned out beautifully.”
“Thanks to your father’s generosity.”
Lily dipped her head, acknowledging the mayor’s comment. Anton Cheval, via Chanku Global Industries and its subsidiary, Cheval International, had become a generous benefactor over the years, and Jill Bradley’s status as mayor had benefited greatly from his many gifts to the city during her administration.
“Consorting with the local fauna, Mayor Bradley?”
Lily fought the urge to spin around and glare. Instead, she sat perfectly still, outwardly calm and relaxed, though she raised one eyebrow at the mayor. Jill set her wine on the table and glowered at the man beyond Lily’s shoulder.
“There’s no call for such rude behavior, Aldo. You’re interrupting a private lunch.”
Lily slowly turned in her chair, at a disadvantage to the tall, elegant man standing much too close behind her for comfort. The hairs along her spine rose and she bit back a growl. She’d never met Aldo Xenakis in person, but the man was on the news often enough. Lately he’d made a point of baiting Chanku shapeshifters, and Lily Cheval in particular. She recognized him immediately.
Shoving her chair back, she stood while privately enjoying the satisfaction of watching him back up when he realized she met him at eye level. “Ah, Mr. Xenakis. I’d say it’s a pleasure, but we both know differently.” She smiled, showing a lot of teeth, and held out her hand. He stared at it a moment. Lily didn’t waver. Reluctantly, he shook hands.
The frisson of awareness left her wanting to wash her hands. There was something wrong about Xenakis. Something she couldn’t place. Oddly enough, it wasn’t her Chanku sense that left her skin crawling.
No. It was her magic, something as much a part of her as her Chanku heritage. Her innate power recoiled almost violently at the man’s brief touch.
Lily surreptitiously wiped her palm against her slim skirt. She noticed that Jill wasn’t the least bit welcoming. “Was there something you wanted, Aldo? Ms. Cheval and I are enjoying a private lunch while we discuss business.”
She placed her emphasis firmly on
private.
“No.” He stepped back and nodded. “I merely saw a beautiful woman sitting here and took a chance to say hello.” He kept his gaze planted firmly on Jill and blatantly ignored Lily.
Lily remained standing, purposefully invading his space until the waitress arrived with their meals. Aldo stepped out of her way and then left without another word. Lily turned, sat, and raised her eyebrow again as she glanced at Jill.
Jill shook her head. The moment the waitress was gone, she took a sip of her wine. “I do not like that man. Something about him . . .”
Lily nodded. “Makes your skin crawl?”
“Exactly. Why? He’s handsome enough. Well mannered.”
“Rich and powerful.” Lily laughed. “I bet he’s asked you out.”
“He did, and like a fool, I accepted. I couldn’t wait for the evening to end.”
“Did he make a pass?”
Jill shook her head. “Nothing so obvious, but he makes me very uncomfortable. Just a feeling I wasn’t safe with him.”
Lily took a bite of her blood-rare hamburger and swallowed. “You sure you’re not Chanku? You’ve always got good intuition.”
“No. Not a drop. I was tested. Took the nutrients for two weeks. Not even a hint of the need to howl.” She shrugged and turned her attention to her salad.
Lily used her French fry as a pointer. “I’m sorry. I think you could have given the guys in my pack a run for their money.”
Jill sipped her wine. “I still can. I just have to do it on two legs.”
They both laughed, but at the same time, the fact she’d tried the nutrients meant Jill had hoped she was Chanku. Lily was sorry for her, for the fact that her friend had wanted something badly enough to go for it, yet failed.
It was something Jill had to accept she could never have. Lily wondered what that would be like, to want something that was totally impossible, something forever out of reach.
They concentrated on their food for a bit. Then Jill set her fork down. “You know, Lily. I think the world of you, and I really love your folks. You’re good people. All of you, your mom and dad especially. They give generously whenever there’s a need, and they’ve done a lot for this city, even though they don’t live here. I don’t want to see these killings hurt any of you, but if we can’t find the killer, I don’t know how we’re going to keep the anger under control. I worry about your safety.”
Lily glanced toward the crowd of reporters waiting at the front door. The questions they’d thrown at her as she walked into the restaurant had been pointed and ugly. In their minds, shapeshifters were committing rapes and murders, and she was just as guilty as the ones actually doing the deed.
The sudden jackhammer inside her head had her gasping.
“Lily? Are you all right?”
Jill reached across the table and took her hand.
Lily pressed fingers to her skull. “Just a minute.”
Her father’s voice filled her mind.
There’s been another killing, Lily. A woman’s body was found about ten minutes ago in Golden Gate Park, not far from the garden your mother designed many years ago. If you’re in a public place, you might want to find somewhere private to finish your lunch with the mayor.
“Shit.” Lily took one more quick bite of her burger and tossed back the last of her wine, taking a moment to consider the consequences of her father’s words. She focused on Jill, one of the few people aware that the Chanku were telepathic. “My father just contacted me. There’s been another murder. The body was found about . . .”
The mayor’s cell phone rang. She answered the call, but her gaze was glued to Lily. With a soft curse, she asked a couple of brief questions and then ended the call. “That was the chief of police. I’m needed back at City Hall.” She stood up. “I’m sorry, Lily. I’ll do what I can.”
“I know. Thank you. Go ahead. I’ll get lunch.”
Jill was reaching for her handbag. “That’s not . . .”
“Go. Call me later.”
“I will.” She slipped the strap to her purse over her shoulder and gave Lily a quick hug. “Later. And thank you.”
Lily watched her walk away. A pleasant-looking woman in her early fifties, Jill Bradley looked like someone’s mom, not like the head of one of the nation’s largest, most diverse cities.
She walked as if she didn’t have a care in the world, passing through the throng of reporters with a quick smile and a friendly greeting to the ones she knew.
Lily wished she had that kind of grace under fire. She handed her card to the waitress, signed the tab when it came after adding a sizeable tip for that perfectly prepared, almost raw burger, and walked toward the back of the restaurant.
There was no way she was going to try and get through the reporters. Nope. She’d take the coward’s exit, through the kitchen and out the back.
And the first thing she’d do when she got back to the office was call Alex. The last murder had been in Montana, but this latest had happened barely a mile from her office.
She wondered where Sebastian Xenakis had been last night.
2
“
A
nything newsworthy?”
Sebastian glanced away from the big bay window with its unobstructed view of the sun slipping into the Pacific Ocean, something he found more attractive than anything that could possibly fill the media screen this time of day. “I have no idea. I’ve not been paying attention.”
His father paused in front of the screen, raised the volume, and then spoke over it. “Maybe you should, son of mine. I don’t understand your lack of interest in events shaping the world. How do you expect to help shape those events if you’re not even aware, if you don’t care, what’s important?”
Sebastian merely shrugged. “I have no interest in shaping events. I’ll leave that to men like you.”
“That’s the coward’s way. No son of mine—”
Sebastian smiled as he interrupted. “Wants to compete with his father. You’re obviously good at what you do, Father. There’s no need for me to fight your battles. You do quite well on your own.”
His father stared at him a moment, and Sebastian wished he could read the man’s mind. He couldn’t even read his aura, something that came naturally to him with most people. The man remained a mystery. Sometimes he wondered if the elder Xenakis wanted to send him away, if he’d rather not claim a son who was so unlike himself. Other times, Sebastian was certain his father was proud of his accomplishments, even a bit impressed by his magical abilities.
The shapeshifting had certainly gotten the old man’s attention. When he’d demonstrated his ability, Sebastian’s shift from man to wolf had left Aldo Xenakis speechless. Of course, with his father’s avid hatred of Chanku shapeshifters, Sebastian possibly could have chosen a creature other than a wolf—one more politically correct—but that was the one that came easiest to him.
He had not wanted to risk failure, and he hadn’t. In fact, he’d grown so comfortable now with the shift that it took less energy every time, but he really should work on some new creatures. He’d watched the Chanku on the neighboring property. Hiding high on the mountain on his father’s land, he’d used a powerful telescope to study them as they went about their daily lives.
Even the children could shift. Fascinated, he’d watched the little ones take the shapes of various creatures, of birds and lions and leopards, always under their parents—or at least an adult’s—watchful eye. And always creatures of prey, whether it be hawk or cougar, wolf, or even, on at least one occasion, a snake.
He’d not ventured beyond the wolf. His greatest fear was finding a shape and getting caught in it, but eventually he was certain his skill would allow shifts of all kinds.
“What do you know of this?”
Sebastian glanced at the digital tablet his father shoved in front of him. The evening news was updating—he read the headlines. Another body had been found, another young woman raped and murdered. Raped by a man, yet murdered by a beast. Or beasts.
He raised his eyes and stared directly at his father. “Not a damned thing. Why? Do you expect me to have inside knowledge?”
“The last murder occurred Sunday in Montana, not far from our home. This one was here in San Francisco. You were in Montana on Sunday. You’re here now.”
He tapped the screen, shutting down the view. Then he turned away from Sebastian and stared out the window.
Silence truly could be deafening.
Sebastian clamped down on the surge of anger. There were some topics he’d rather not argue. This was one of them, but he wasn’t about to let his father’s insult go entirely unanswered. “What’s your point, Father?”
“Are you still shifting? Still running as a wolf?” Aldo continued to gaze out the window as he questioned his son.
“I am.” Sebastian took a deep, controlling breath. “Are you insinuating that I have anything to—”
“Do you?”
The question, the fact the man would actually voice it, startled him. He stared at his father’s back. Stared until the bastard slowly turned and glared right back at him. Energy sparkled in the air between them. Energy and anger unlike anything Sebastian had ever experienced. He felt his wolf stir within, an unnerving, unexpected sensation. For the first time ever he had to consciously hold back the shift. There was no magic in this—it was rage. Pure, relentless rage.
He clenched his jaw, fought for control, and won.
Still the two of them stood there, glaring at each other like two alpha wolves daring one another for control. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t have to. Anger simmered, a palpable force in the room.
Sebastian was the first to lower his gaze. Seething inside, fighting the wildness reaching for release, he stared at the stone tiles that covered the floor. He didn’t raise his head until he was certain his father had left the room.
Once again, he’d been judged.
Judged, and found wanting, even though he knew he had his father bested.
Sebastian could shift. The wizard couldn’t.
Long moments later, he felt the wolf subside, took a deep breath, and then let it out. He inhaled again, slowly, until his thundering heart settled back to its normal cadence in his chest.
He turned to the window, breathing slow and steady as he watched the fog rolling in over the dark water, but his thoughts were far away. He wondered about the latest victim—who she was. What she had been like.
What her thoughts had been before she died.
If she had known the one who killed her.
It was a little after ten when Lily paid the cabbie near 19th and Lincoln, got out of the car, and slipped into the fog and shadows at the edge of Golden Gate Park. She wore loose sweats and sandals and carried a cloth bag, well aware she looked more like a homeless transient than the CEO of one of the largest import companies in the city.
It was exactly the look she wanted.
Slipping into the thick shrubbery that bordered this area of the park, she stripped out of her clothing and stuffed shoes and sweats into the bag. Naked, shivering in the cool night air, she bent low and shoved the bag with her stuff under a low-growing shrub.
A branch cracked nearby, sharp and loud as a gunshot. She went totally still, crouched low beneath the brush. After a moment, Lily heard laughter, a feminine giggle, and the soft tones of a masculine voice. She raised her head and sniffed, picking up the faint hint of cologne, a softer, feminine perfume, and the rich cloud of pheromones in the still night air.
She heard the sound of clothing rustling, a soft whimper, and a rough, masculine moan.
Just her luck. She wanted to run, and the dude on the other side of the bush wanted to fuck. It would be funny if she weren’t so desperate to leave her human self behind tonight, though she almost laughed out loud when she thought of what Alex would make of the situation.
He had a smart-ass comment for everything, and he’d absolutely be loving this mess, which meant she’d probably tell him about it later. She could hear him now, running a riff about her hunkered down in the bushes alongside one of the busiest streets in the city, bare assed and buck naked while some bozo tried to make it with his girlfriend less than two feet away.
She waited, hoping they’d disappear, maybe find a room somewhere. Instead, she heard the snick of a zipper, a soft, “Oh, baby. That’s it . . . that’s . . .”
Shit. Enough already. Lily called on her wolf and felt the change sweep over her body. She paused as all her senses synced with the night around her. Within seconds she’d slipped through fog and shadows without making a sound. The soft gasps and moans faded as she silently left the couple behind.
The fog grew thicker as she ran, muting the ever-present sounds of civilization as well as the soft pads of her paws against the trail. With mouth open and tongue lolling, Lily drew great draughts of air into her lungs. Her wolven brain easily categorized the scents—alder and pine, pungent eucalyptus, and freshly mowed grass. A hint of cigar smoke and the familiar odor of marijuana. The acrid smells of many who had passed through the park earlier, scents of dogs and children, of perfumes and colognes.
Familiar smells, but not the ones she wanted. Not tonight. She missed the smells of home, the sharp tang of cedar and the clean scent of damp earth. The sounds here were lacking as well. Owls hooting in the night, the squeak of bats overhead. There were some small rustlings of mice in the weeds and the occasional slither of a snake or the crackle of voles in the leaves, but no rustle of deer in the brush, no bugling elk.
No pack members to run beside her.
No male who wanted her as his mate.
And that was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? She was damned tired of living alone, though she’d never admit that to her parents. They wanted her to find love and had always hoped it would be with Alex Aragat.
Even Alex found that idea insane. They’d slept in the same crib, and played together as toddlers and beyond, until they each went off to college. Through all their years together, Lily had been the big sister, the one in charge.
She still was. That dynamic would never change.
She loved Alex, and sex with him was amazing, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. He didn’t challenge her, and she would always intimidate the hell out of him. They laughed about it, pretended to go along with the wishes of their parents, but both of them accepted their relationship would never go beyond what they had now: packmates—special friends with benefits.
Lily realized she was growling as she ran. Time to stop thinking about Alex and her lack of male companionship. This run was supposed to relax her, not leave her frustrated and angry.
She put in a fresh burst of speed and raced through the park. Normally she preferred to run in the Marin Headlands or through the tangled grounds of the Presidio, but her time tonight was limited and she
needed
this run.
Desperately.
She raced past the golf course and circled the soccer fields, keeping to the shadows, out of plain sight. Circling back, she found herself drawn toward the small garden her mother had designed over thirty years ago. Keisha Rialto had been a young landscape architect when her life was turned upside down by a horrible assault and an unexpected shift from woman to wolf.
In spite of everything, her design had won a contest that resulted in the beautiful memorial to Tibetan Sherpas who had lost their lives guiding climbers into the Himalayas. Her simple yet elegant design had changed so many lives—including her own.
Somehow, the woman who would one day give birth to Lily had included specific plants native to the Tibetan Steppe—plants containing nutrients Chanku shapeshifters needed to shift.
Instinct? The hand of the goddess? Whatever force had lead Keisha to those plants had also led Lily’s father to search for her mother.
If not for that garden, Lily might never have been born, her parents might not have found one another, and the Chanku species could have disappeared forever.
She’d always loved the garden and felt a special connection to the peaceful memorial near Stow Lake. Now, though, as she drew closer, Lily sensed something different.
A darkness that hadn’t existed before. A sense of evil so powerful that the entire area felt tarnished.
How could she have forgotten so soon? A woman had died here just a few hours ago.
Raped by a man, her throat torn out by a wolf.
Lily eased up on her ground-eating lope and slowed to a trot, moving silently among the large stones and softly clumped grasses. The scent of blood hung thick in the foggy night despite the best efforts of the cleaning crews to remove all signs of the assault and murder.
Lily’s sensitive nose picked up the stale scent of fear, of sweat and blood, of semen. Overlaying it all was the powerful scent of wolf.
Not a wolf she recognized, and not just one. She crossed back and forth, breathing in the smells. At least four different wolves. Maybe more, but there was an underlying stench of something wrong, a darkness that didn’t fit with the familiar scent of Chanku.
It made no sense. Man and beast had been here, but had they been Chanku? Or had it been humans and natural wolves—wolves trained to kill?
She was certain she knew all of the Chanku capable of shifting. Over the past twenty-six years, ever since their existence had become public knowledge, they’d searched among normal-appearing humans in hope of finding more of their kind, those who carried the genes for shapeshifting.
Very few had been discovered, but each of them had been brought into the pack, taught to live as a wolf, and encouraged to stay on as part of the ever-growing family of Chanku.
A few had chosen life elsewhere—generally those who preferred solitude to life within the pack. Still, they all kept in contact with her father, and all acknowledged Anton Cheval as the über-alpha, their pack leader.
Just as every one of them looked to Keisha Rialto as the true power over all Chanku. Lily was so proud of her mom, and like everyone else, recognized the quiet strength in the woman who had easily brought über-alpha and powerful wizard Anton Cheval to his knees. Her father might act like the ruler of his own kingdom, but even he acknowledged his mate’s alpha nature.
Of all the known Chanku, none of them, as far as Lily knew, were evil. As wolves they had the power to kill, but they also lived by a code of honor. Evil was a trait that would have shown up very quickly. One thing she’d learned to count on with the pack was the way they watched out for one another. They truly were a family, and if someone had problems, they were the pack’s problems to be dealt with and solved before they were put aside.
But someone was raping and killing young women, and if it wasn’t Chanku, it was someone intending to make it look like Chanku. Lily circled the garden once again.
Her nose wrinkled at the stench of old blood and death, and the overlying sense of something terribly wrong. She couldn’t place it, knew that, if asked, she’d not be able to describe it, but she also knew she would never forget it.