Ah. Nice. Another distraction should the Saru be ordered to hunt us.
Part of Griffin's tension dissipated, and she could focus on the task at hand. In the long run, she could protect Jorie best if she found proof of what Jennings had been doing. "And? What are the Syak doing?" she asked Gus. "No signs of them packing to go home?"
Gus shook his head. "Not yet. Max said that since they lost their leader, there's been a lot of fighting over what to do. Some of the Syak just want to head home and lick their wounds. They know they could be in big trouble with the council for invading our territory and violating council orders not to attack while the forty-eight hours weren't up. But in the end, I'm sure the more aggressive pack members won. That's why they are staying. They'll hang around to see if there's a way to exact revenge without getting themselves into even more trouble with the council. They'll lie low until the council has made a decision. Then all bets are off."
Griffin clenched her jaw. Everything depended on her finding enough evidence to convince the council not to kill Jorie.
Hm. They're lying low, staying in their cabin.
Normally, that would be good. But right now, they wanted into the bed-and-breakfast, where very likely, the pack kept Jennings's things. The pack wouldn't stand around and watch the woman who had killed their leader go through his possessions.
Brian and Gus exchanged a glance.
"Time for a little ploy," Brian said. "Gus, you and I will go in through the front door. Griffin, you'll stay behind and —"
"Wait a minute," Griffin said. Taking orders had never been her strong suit. Her father's tendency to take control had driven her crazy even as a child. "I'm the one who created this situation, so it should be my decision."
Her father's green eyes regarded her steadily. "It is. You can decide if you trust me with your life — and Jorie's — or not."
Trust.
Everything came down to trust. Griffin sighed. She had never trusted anyone enough to hand over control of something so important. But after everything that had happened, maybe it was time for a change. Without her family's help and without trusting each other, she and Jorie wouldn't have made it this far. "All right," she finally said. "Let's do this your way."
Brian and Gus exchanged a quick glance. Twin smiles darted across their faces, then were replaced with the fierce expression of hunting predators.
"Gus and I will lure the pack away from the house. We should be gone for at least an hour. That should give you time to search their rooms for whatever you're looking for," Brian said.
"Luring away the whole pack and getting them to leave behind their dead leader..." Griffin shook her head. It wasn't something that she could see a Syak doing. Wrasa custom required someone watching over the body at all times. "How do you want to accomplish that?"
A mysterious smile curled up one corner of Brian's mouth. "Let me worry about that," he said. "You make sure that you get in and out of the house without leaving any trace behind. This is our territory, but after you killed their alpha, it's better to lie low for a while."
"After you're done, get Max or your mother to spray a generous dose of lavender or something else that can cover your scent," Gus said.
Griffin studied them.
They really make a great team.
Maybe being a Kasari had its advantages. "All right."
Making sure to stay downwind of the house, she hid behind one of the large trees surrounding the bed-and-breakfast. From here, she could still see Gus and Brian, but if she kept her head down, no one could see her.
Gus knocked on the door.
Griffin's heart echoed the hammering beat. Her muscles flexed against the confines of her clothes.
The door swung open.
Brian's broad back hid the face of the Syak that had opened the door, but the wind carried the scent of an aggressive male toward Griffin.
"What do you want, cat?" the man, probably the new leader of the pack, growled.
"For someone who is far from home, in the middle of a stranger's territory, he isn't very polite, is he, Brian?" Gus said conversationally.
"Maybe he's not aware of the age-old rules that forbid anyone from entering another's territory without express permission, brother," Brian said. His voice was as hard and arrogant as his stance. "Maybe he needs a little reminder."
The threat was evident in his tone.
Nothing about Brian reminded of the calm man who had stood next to Griffin just minutes ago. He had smoothly slipped back into the act of the brash, dominant pride leader.
An act...
Griffin had never before thought about it like this. His stubborn, overbearing arrogance was all she had ever seen.
Maybe I should take the time to look a little deeper. But not now.
When she directed her attention back to the Syak, she caught glimpses of grayish hair as the new alpha squirmed from one foot to the other.
He wants to move back but can't without losing face in front of the pack.
Griffin grinned. She didn't envy him.
"What do you want?" the Syak asked, this time just a tad more politely.
"It's time," Brian said.
"Time for what?" the Syak asked. Griffin heard the frown in his voice.
"Time for the sleme," Brian answered.
Genius,
Griffin thought with admiration. The Syak would never leave their dead leader behind, so this might be the only way to get them out of the house. She sat back and listened as discussions broke out among the Syak.
"This is our territory," Brian's booming voice cut through all the protests. "We make the decisions here, not you. You can't take the body with you, and it's stinking up the place. Soon, even the humans in Osgrove will be able to smell him even from across town. We won't take the risk of a human discovering the body. The First Law demands cremation within two days, and they're up. I'm sure you know there are a lot of saru around. They would be very upset to learn you're not following the First Law."
"Sounds like you're speaking from experience," the Syak's alpha said with a wolfish grin. "I can imagine how upset the Saru are with you. Maybe we'll hang around for a while longer and watch what they'll do to you once the council order finally comes."
Brian growled.
"While your dead leader is slowly rotting away in a cat's territory?" Gus asked. "Is that what pack loyalty means to you Syak?"
Most of the Syak looked away.
"We don't have a pyre site in the UP," one of the younger pack members said.
"No problem," Gus said, giving the growling Syak a friendly pat. "Our pyre site is really beautiful, and we'll honor your alpha by letting you use it."
Clever,
Griffin thought.
He's allowing their new alpha to save face while still doing what we want him to do.
After ten more minutes of discussion, the Syak finally carried Cedric Jennings's covered body out of the house. The somber congregation followed Brian and Gus into the forest.
When their footfalls faded away, Griffin shot up from behind the tree and sprinted toward the front door of the cabin the Syak had rented. Her hand reached for the set of lock picks in the back pocket of her cargo pants — and came away empty.
Somehow, somewhere in the chaos of the last few days, she had lost the lock picks.
Cursing, Griffin eyed the cabin's front door. The lock was sturdy. No way of getting in without the Syak noticing that she'd been there.
With her muscled frame and her four hundred pounds, she could easily break down the door, but this open invasion of their privacy wouldn't go over well with the Syak.
Well, they'll just have to get over it.
She didn't have time to go to the main cabin and retrieve the key.
Griffin took one step back and angled her shoulder, aiming at the door.
"You're not, by any chance, trying to destroy the front door of one of my cabins, are you?" a voice purred behind her.
Griffin's shoulder dropped. She turned around and met the hard eyes of Max Henderson, the Puwar who owned the bed-and-breakfast.
Damn.
"Um. I..." Griffin stopped herself. Lame excuses wouldn't work. Max was too clever. There was no time for long explanations. Griffin swallowed her pride and made a decision. "I need your help. I need to get inside the cabin," she told him.
"The council warned me not to get involved again one way or the other until they make a decision," Max said. "Anyone who helps you will earn the wrath of the council."
He was right. Max wasn't part of the pride. He had no obligation to help her. All he wanted was to be left alone, and if he helped Griffin any more than he already had, the council would make sure he never got any peace again. Griffin ground her teeth.
Her muscles tensed, and she flexed her fingers, getting ready to fight her way into the cabin if necessary. She couldn't allow Max to stop her. Jorie's life and her own depended on convincing the council. They needed proof.
Max cocked his head and pretended to listen. "Strange," he mumbled. "I thought I heard something outside. Guess it was just the wind." As he strolled away, back to the main house, something fell from his pocket.
The little object gleamed in the grayish light of predawn. Griffin bent down and picked it up.
It was a key.
That wily old tiger!
Grinning, Griffin unlocked the cabin's door.
Everything was quiet inside. The cabin reeked of wolf and death. She followed the scent through the main room, not bothering to turn on the light. Her nose guided her unerringly to the room where they had kept Jennings's body and his possessions.
The door creaked open.
Ugh.
The sickly sweet stench of death engulfed Griffin as she entered the room. She pinched her nose and tried to ignore it. Once she was inside the room, Griffin turned on the light.
Not that there was much to see.
Since Cedric Jennings had never stayed at the bed-and-breakfast and had traveled lightly, there probably wasn't much to find. Griffin rifled through drawers and glanced at the objects on the dresser. As far as her suffering nose could tell, nothing carried Jennings's scent.
Half-hidden under the bed lay a duffel bag. Griffin knelt down and opened it.
A sloppily folded shirt peeked out. Jennings's scent clung to it.
He won't need it anymore.
The thought hit her with unexpected force.
She had killed a man. A fellow saru.
There was no doubt in Griffin's mind that she had done the right thing. She had killed Jennings to protect Jorie, protect herself, and prevent her species from going down a road that just wasn't right. She would do it all again if necessary, but that didn't stop the feelings of guilt.
At one time, Cedric Jennings had been her commanding officer, a man of duty and honor. While he had never been a close friend, she had always respected him. What had led him to becoming a killer of defenseless humans? Had he always been that way, and she just hadn't seen it?
The hand that reached into the duffel bag trembled, and she scolded herself.
Get yourself together. Now is not the time to fall apart.
Her searching hands encountered a plane ticket.
Just one. Jennings never planned on capturing Jorie or me alive.
His cell phone was nowhere to be found. Either he had lost it in the forest, or the pack's new leader had taken possession of it. Digging deeper, Griffin's fingers found something else, buried safely under a pair of socks. She pulled it out of the duffel bag. It was a small book. Griffin slid her hands along the worn leather.
It's at least a decade old,
her nose told her. Had Cedric Jennings kept a diary? Had he written down his plans, maybe even explained why he was so hell-bent on killing humans?
Holding her breath, Griffin opened the little book. Jennings's scent clung to every page.
Then Griffin looked at the handwriting.
Disappointment tightened her lips. While the Saru were careful not to write down mission outlines and reports to avoid being detected by humans, the few of them who still knew enough of the Old Language sometimes used it for personal notes. The diary was written in English, though, and the gentle slopes didn't resemble Jennings's nearly unreadable scrawl.
She pulled her glasses from her shirt pocket and read a few of the slightly faded lines.
I met her today — the woman I've been dreaming about. I can't believe she lives right here, among us. I can't let that continue. She's dangerous. If I don't stop her, she'll kill us all. Nobody else can see it, can sense the danger. I'm the only one who can stop her. The only one who sees her for what she is. I need to find a way to kill her without arousing suspicions.
Griffin frowned down at the page. This was the diary of a dream seer. It wasn't her grandfather's familiar handwriting, though.
I always thought he was the only maharsi who kept a dream diary.
Apparently, other dream seers had wanted to leave something behind for posterity too. And it wasn't a legacy of peace. Had he been a maharsi who had hunted humans? Had he been Jennings's inspiration, his guiding light? Had Jennings killed humans that the dream seer had described decades ago in his diary?
Maybe he dreamed about humans who would turn out to be threats. Maybe he described them in his diary, and Jennings searched for them and killed them.
Griffin's thumbs rubbed the worn leather. Even among the maharsi, a dream seer who couldn't only see the future but was powerful enough to change it was rare.
Is Jorie in the diary? Did he dream about her, describe her as a threat?
She was almost afraid to find out. Flipping through the book, she searched for the last few entries in the diary.
I dreamed about him again. I don't know if I'll ever meet him in my waking life, but if I do, I know I'll die. He'll kill me. I've seen it in my dreams. He knows what I am and what I've done. He wants to stop me, and I can't let that happen.