Page 16 of Filthy Fae

Jane inhaled through her nose. “I’m going to have to disagree with you, Alpha. Submissive wolves sometimes kill as a fight-or-flight reaction. Dr. Reed admitted that he lost control of his wolf during the party. The way he described this party, everyone except him was a threat. When overwhelmed by fear, submissive wolves have been known to lose sight of what is and isn’t a threat.”

“Teenagers,” Scarlet said. “Zane is far from a teenage wolf with control issues.”

Even though she was still arguing, I could hear the defeat in Scarlet’s voice. Between puberty and adulthood, there was a period of time in most werewolves lives when changing back and forth between human and wolf went haywire. For some dominants, it was every time they were taken over with the urge to protect, fight, or fuck. Understandably, it happened a lot. With stronger dominants, there usually came more control.

On the other side of the fence, submissive wolves lost control when gripped with fear. In this way, alphas didn’t need to worry about our submissives as much. They could have normal teen fights and romantic relationships without mauling each other. In a healthy pack, submissive wolves were cherished and protected doggedly by dominant wolves. They were the ones who kept us from killing each other. But a submissive werewolf whose wolf was in a panic was the most dangerous werewolf of all.

Jane took a moment to respond, her expression almost as if she were breaking bad news to a loved one. “What do you think is more likely, twenty-six people are a threat out of nowhere and a werewolf flees or a werewolf perceives twenty-six people as a threat, his wolf takes control, and he attacks defensively? Dr. Reed almost lost control in the interview. My wolf could feel it. The only reason he didn’t was because there was a dominant wolf present. There weren’t any dominant wolves at the party. He already admitted he lost control. I think what’s in question is did he lose control at the end of the party or at the beginning?”

Scarlet stood. “Look. Zane said that the fae and humans were killing each other, it brought his wolf out, and then he panicked and hid. If the order of events was different, then he flat out lied—”

“Which wouldn’t be the first time he flat out lied in the interview. Maybe he didn’t lie so much as he perceived a danger that didn’t exist.” As if Jane just realized that she had interrupted an alpha after she finished her argument, heat flamed up the woman’s cheeks.

Scarlet didn’t seem to notice the disrespect. Instead, she squeezed her eyes closed and sighed. “You’re right. Zane is a liar. He probably lied about going alone. But there has to be another...” Scarlet’s eyes snapped open.

“Another what?” Jane asked after a moment.

Scarlet shook her head, seeming to return from somewhere far away. “Another explanation.”

“Did you think of something?” Jane asked.

It was the impression I got too, but Scarlet sighed and whispered, “I wish I had. I’m just so tired.”

After dinner, Jane headed out to the hotel room I’d arranged for her. Before she left, I’d asked her to investigate any possible way for us to get into the crime scene tomorrow, something the sheriff had told her would be impossible. Jane had agreed, and she would swing by to pick up Scarlet after checking out a few leads by phone in the morning.

When I headed back to the table, I found Scarlet sitting there, looking entirely dejected.

“I’ll wash up, and then we can talk,” I said, grabbing for her plate.

“I’ve got this,” Darrel said, taking my plate from me. He nodded to Scarlet and cocked a dark brow, clearly saying that I should get on with it.

“Wait—Darrel,” Scarlet objected, spinning toward where Darrel was already heading into the kitchen. “You cooked.”

“I got it,” Darrel called back. “You two have some things to talk about, don’t you?”

Scarlet’s eyes widened, and her lips parted. Her expression didn’t look annoyed or exasperated that I wanted to talk to her now, but perhaps a little nervous.

“Ready?” I asked, gesturing to my door.

“Yep.” She took a quick breath and pushed up from the table.

Down the hall, I swung open my door and waited for her to step in. Scarlet’s gaze combed over my room, pausing on the floor-to-ceiling bookcase which cost me a small fortune to stock with my essential reference books. Some of the books were borrowed from Jack, Scarlet’s father, whom I somehow seemed to be hanging out with more than Scarlet lately.

“I like what you did with the place,” she said with a smile, her hand tracing down my mahogany bedpost. Seeing her hand on that post made all kinds of inappropriate thoughts thrum through my head, but I shoved them aside.

Not right now. Not until she gives the signal.

“I wanted to talk to you about going back to school,” I said as I leaned against the wall.

“School?” Scarlet spun, looking pleasantly surprised, and my nervousness eased. Just as when I was a kid, I recently found Scarlet’s father a very easy man to spend time with. Over the past few weeks, he’d invited me to the pack-house several times to enjoy a whiskey and debate general subjects like human nature and the existence of god. I’d been dropping hints, trying to see if the man had any ideas on how I could bridge this chasm that seemed to have formed between Scarlet and me. Last week, I’d just come out and asked.

After consulting his wife, Jack had said that Scarlet and I needed to find something in common and spend time together. The idea had made me skeptical, but from Scarlet’s expression, she seemed interested.

“You can transfer your business credits from the university in New York,” I said. “I’ve already talked to the college, and they agreed.”

As if I’d flipped a switch, Scarlet’s expression fell. “Oh, I get it. You mean that I should go back to school.” She crossed her arms, annoyance flickering in her expression. “And you talked to my university in New York?”

What the fuck had I said wrong? Clearly, I’d said something that pissed her off. “You don’t like that I reached out to your university?”