Nathaniel stalked over to a long row of metal coolers and opened one of the doors. The body slid out, and a muscle ticked in his jaw as he gazed down at one of his wolves.

“The eyes are missing,” I stated the obvious, and Nathaniel nodded. He kept his gaze on the wolf for a long moment. I leaned closer, examining the body. No obvious sign of injury. What the hell could take down a werewolf so easily?

“Cause of death?”

“We’re still unsure. My coroners have reached out to a forensic technician from a pack in New York. She’s agreed to travel here to take a look. So far, cause of death is heart failure.”

Werewolves didn’t have heart attacks. Nathaniel’s eyes were a winter’s frost, and I shifted my attention back down to the body.

“I know someone who’s good with stuff like this.”

He stayed silent and I sighed. “She was able to find a suppression spell on my magic, and she helped me narrow down my suspects in the demon murders.”

“Fine. Call her.”

I ground my teeth. Evie reached over and squeezed my arm, and then she stared at the alpha.

“Call her, please,” Evie said.

Nathaniel’s eyes darkened, and his face lost some of its rage. “I apologize,” he said solemnly, his gaze on her face. Then he turned back to me. “I would very much appreciate if you could call your contact. Please.”

Evie looked away, her face turning pink.

I raised one eyebrow but pulled my phone from my pocket. “Selina? Hi. I was wondering if you could do me a favor. The wolves are looking for someone of your skillset.” I smiled at Nathaniel. “They’ve got money to spend, and they need answers.”

Amusement flickered across his face, but he nodded.

I lifted the phone away from my face. “She says she can come out tomorrow and take a look. Does that work for you?”

He nodded. I thanked Selina and hung up.

“I need to ask you a question.”

He nodded again. I shifted on my feet. “Could cutting out a werewolf’s eyes allow someone to see where a fae artifact has been?”

His eyes turned so light they were almost white. Evie and I both froze, and I dropped my eyes, waiting as he got his shit together. He let out a low growl.

“Yes,” he said hoarsely. “The myths are correct, at least in that. But it would require a black witch with knowledge of the most ancient spells on this earth.”

“How long would it last for?”

“Until the eyes decomposed enough that they were no longer usable.”

I winced. We both knew that there were plenty of ways— both magical and non-magical— to keep the eyes from decomposing.

19

Danica